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lovieku · 11 days ago

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TRUE LOVE ⋆ 정국

when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.

⋆⁺₊❅. 5/6 from christmas & chill

pairing tattoo artist!jk x fem reader

genre fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l

warnings jk 24 | oc 24, jk thinks he’s too cool for love, oc suffers from a chronic case of “i can fix him”, she eventually does, oc simps HARDDD and jk only pretends to be unaffected, yea he’s a bit of a dick sometimes but he’s also Very funny, brief description of panic attacks, male masturbation, kissing, idk what else to add i just rly rly love them and will think of them for the entirety of xmas season

word count 10.2k

author’s note hi lovies 🩷 it’s my last time with c&c 🙁 i’m kinda emotional omg… it’s been such a fun, warm and lovely week, and i love each one of you for showing endless support to this project <33 i’ll keep trying to not disappoint… please tell me if you like this!!! thank u always and always 🩷 luv u <3

banner by the gorgeous @awrkive ⊹₊⟡⋆

On the first day of December, your path crosses with thee Jeon Jeongguk’s after enough years for your brain to trip slightly before recognising him. But it would have been impossible not to—there’s likely a whole, well-preserved section of your thinking organ dedicated to that mortifying phase of high school, when your hormones turned life into an endless internal tug-of-war.

The moment your eyes widen at having him stand in front of you, you’re yanked unceremoniously into the past, brought back to buried, locked and left to gather dust feelings that have your teenage self’s screams echoing within you in a chorus of delight and cringe.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is simply following his duties as a tattoo artist. When he catches sight of you next to his appointed client on such a breezy day, the cold December air starting to find its space even in the confines of his studio, he only nods his chin upward at you in slow recognition.

It’s awkward, at first. Only because you make it.

You’d volunteered to accompany Eunbi, your best friend, to get her first tattoo as an early Christmas self-gift. Your mission was clear: support her, hold her hand if the pain became unbearable (though you’re probably the least dependable person when it comes to making clarity in situations of panic, as seen right now), and be the first to bask in her excitement as she finally sees what she’s always pictured to be inked on the skin of her forearm. A blue whale tattoo, large enough to make you wince just thinking about the needlework.

You’d never go through something like that. Never.

And that’s exactly what’s showing on your face when you’re met with Jeongguk’s full sleeve of tattoos, leaving you rooted to the spot.

You’d always known him to be the different kid, the quiet one with forced sharp eyes that canonically listened to alternative rock and glared at anyone who dared approach, whether to tease him or befriend him. He’d convinced himself that no one could ever understand him.

See, you’d instead fooled yourself into thinking you were the exception. That you did understand him.

Fourteen-year-old you had gone through some weird phases, and the one that resurfaces now at the vision of his adult self is the one centered entirely around him. You unashamedly had the biggest crush on Jeongguk. To you, he was mysterious and edgy—in an effortlessly cool way.

You’d tried everything. Offered him your lunch more times than you were left with any for yourself. Even cut your bangs to have them fall over your eyes to mimic his fringe, dyed a strand in blue, overhauled your wardrobe to align with his back-and-grey one. None of it worked. He never noticed.

But, thinking of it now, there’s no way he didn't. He definitely did. How could any boy turn a blind eye to a lovesick girl’s heartfelt Valentine’s letter, a hopeless romantic girl who almost cried on the spot when she got rejected? Jeongguk just chose to willingly ignore it.

These are all valid reasons as to why your functions seem to slow down in his unexpected presence. And you’re not going to deny nor fake that his calm, almost detached demeanor doesn’t flow through your body and right to your left eye, making it twitch with a slight tremor.

Yet, you must also admit that your teenage self was onto something. Jeongguk has changed drastically but he’s also stayed the same. You think fourteen-year-old him would be proud of where he is right now. Two piercings on his lower lip and one on his eyebrow, intricate ink tracing up his muscled arm, his… muscled arms. Wow. And then, his studio. His own studio, a place for him and his passion, one that he made into his job. That’s undeniably cool.

Maybe just not cool enough for you to be gaping like an idiot as he moves with purpose, adjusting your friend’s arm to position the stencil he had prepared, perfectly fitting in the space she had chosen. His muscles flex with every shift, and it’s impossible for you to go past that with the way the black beater he’s wearing is loose on his torso, but still clinging on his chest.

Eunbi notices, of course. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed and in return she doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when your usual chatter dries up entirely, only gulping obnoxiously noisily and alternating that with nervous silences. Jeongguk, too, catches on.

He’d always known you as obnoxious and noisy. In, huh, a good way. Or whatever.

Jeongguk just agrees that you were (and probably still are, if the pastel yellow skirt softly flowing down your legs paired with a cozy cream sweater and the full toothed grin you shoot at your friend are any indicators) the pinpoint embodiment of his opposite. You’ve always been talkative, smiley, and friendly, eager to help and to receive help, not in the slightest ever turning down the opportunity to blabber on, and on, and on.

Honestly, Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever truly listened to a single word of your rambling back in the day, especially during those times when you’d bounce up to him and launch into enthusiastic rants about obscure alternative bands he himself hadn’t even heard of. He respected the hustle, though. He’d always wondered where you found the time and energy to immerse yourself in music like that.

He much preferred when you were less trying so hard to be him and mirror his tastes, more when you gave up on impressing him and simply stayed true to yourself, the girl whose heart belonged to Justin Bieber and One Direction. Truthfully, he fucked with them. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. His quiet, brooding image wouldn’t survive that revelation.

What he respected the most was your resilience. After all the times he rejected you and your awkward blurts of confessions, you still didn’t think it was enough of a reason for your villain origin story to take off, and instead remained the same frustratingly positive ray of sunshine you’d always been.

Now, as Jeongguk works on the tattoo in front of him, the very design that caused all these long-buried memories to rise back, his dark eyes flick toward you sitting on a stool in a near corner every now and then, a hint of confusion in his expression each time you take more than five seconds to reply to his small talk.

It’s just, you’re a bit taken aback. Since when does he do small talk? The foreign smoothness with which Jeongguk handles interactions is so far removed from the sullen boy you used to know. You’re not prepared for this version of him. It’s disarming, to say the least.

Enough time has passed for you to settle into the odd scenario, your current best friend and your long-standing high school crush in the same room. Slowly but surely, your curiosity sparkles again, and the signature tendency to let thoughts tumble out of your mouth unchecked returns to you naturally.

“Ouch, that looks painful.”

Jeongguk snorts, eyes trained on Eunbi’s arm as he glides the tattoo needle with precise strokes that have his brows pinching and the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips, a habit you remember from the past but one you’ve never found quite so distracting before.

Still, he multitasks and responds without missing a beat, “Wanna try?”

Wow. This is, like, the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. It spurs you on to do anything it takes to hear more of his voice, the sound of it definitely deeper than the shy tones you struggled to coax out of him ten years ago.

That is probably why you literally lie, “Hm. Maybe. I was thinking of getting one actually. In the future.”

Eunbi chokes on her spit, her chest coughing with the sudden, blatantly fake revelation, and Jeongguk promptly pauses, lifting the needle from her skin as his tattooist reflexes kick in. While your friend apologizes between a clearing of her throat and sinks back into the chair, she doesn’t keep from glaring at you, her expression screaming What the hell are you doing?

You deadpan. You’ll explain everything later and it’ll all make sense. And you know this will inevitably end up being added to the list of the many embarrassing facts she knows about you and threatens you with when she wants to go clubbing and you don’t.

Jeongguk uses the brief interruption to glance up at where you’re perched in the corner of his peripheral vision, just to square you up and down with a skeptical arch of his brow, “Really?”

You scoff, smoothing out the creases on your skirt as if the fabric is somehow responsible for the lie you just told, “Is that shocking?”

He hums, returning to his work with the buzz of the needle filling the studio again, his voice padded the more he gets closer to Eunbi’s forearm, “I just find it hard to believe such a princess like you could handle any pain.”

You gulp.

What you’re getting from this conversation is that Jeongguk has always had an idea of who you are in his mind all along. That he’s always perceived you in some way. As much as your inner fourteen-year-old is swooning at the attention, gobbling up each of the tiny crumbles he’s giving you, it doesn’t sit right with you. What exactly does he think of you?

“Test me.”

He shrugs, eyes fixated on the shade he’s perfectioning with black ink, “Busy now.”

“I’ll go pay for mine. I saw you have one last free spot today,” you announce, the words tumbling out with more confidence than you feel. You’re already on your feet before the sentence is fully formed, betraying the fact that your nosy tendencies had gotten the better of you earlier. You’d discreetly glanced at his appointment book when Jeongguk and Eunbi were finalizing her tattoo details and negotiating the final price at the desk.

He hums, head tilting slightly, “And I wanted to spend it bumming around.”

“Too bad. You’ll have to postpone that.”

You walked into this studio swearing you’d never let a needle even brush you.

Now you’re stretched out on a leather bench, Jeongguk leaning over you with a stencil in hand, gloved fingers moving with careful precision.

The design you’d chosen came from his portfolio—a delicate illustration of two butterflies in motion, their soft threads intertwining. You’d flipped through countless pages of bold skulls and intricate linework before settling on this.

The spot you’d chosen for the tattoo was the flat, firm plane between your breasts. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just a place you’d always liked. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that nature hadn’t exactly blessed you in the cleavage department. Subconsciously, perhaps, you thought that adding something there might give the illusion of more.

“Tehe,” you can’t stop the breathy giggle that escapes as the cool paper brushes against your skin. Your hand is pressed to your bra, holding it in place as best you can, though the situation feels so surreal it’s hard to focus on anything but the ridiculousness of it all.

Jeongguk glances up at you with a glare that’s more exasperated than angry before returning to the delicate task at hand, “What’s funny?”

Your voice wobbles, “I just— I tend to laugh during serious moments.”

“Oh. Weird.”

“Sorry.”

With a small sigh, he smooths the stencil, and once it’s transferred he hands you a square mirror, waiting for your approval. You nod, the butterflies now perfectly poised in their eternal dance, and Jeongguk doesn’t waste a moment.

The buzz of the needle fills the room as he leans closer, one gloved hand resting on the upper part of your chest to steady himself. He’s mere seconds from beginning the inking process when another laugh bubbles out of you.

Jeongguk sits back abruptly, dropping his pen onto the metal tray with an audible clink. Tilting his head, he levels you with a look of thinly veiled irritation. “I really can’t work if your chest keeps moving.”

“Sorry,” you blurt again, turning your head to face the wall. You clamp your lips together tightly, mentally scrolling through every sad memory you can conjure. Think of something awful. Your childhood dog dying. Okay, maybe not that sad—

“You haven’t changed a bit since high school. Always smiling like you live surrounded by flowers and rainbows,” Jeongguk’s mutter vibrates against your chest, warm breath fanning over the cold skin, distracting you from your no-giggling mission.

The unexpected observation has your brows furrowing in a mildly offended frown, and banter is ready on your tongue. “You’re just the same too, Gguk. The emo boy who thinks he’s too cool for a smile.”

“I’m not an emo boy. The fuck,” he scoffs, kissing his teeth and murmuring more of his indignation under his breath.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. I can teach you.”

The whirring needle glides across your skin with a slightly firmer touch, making you hiss softly under your breath. He seems unbothered by the reaction, and instead bothered by your words, “Teach me what.”

“How to smile a bit more,” you reply, your voice laced with mockery as you keep your gaze firmly fixed on the wall. The smirk playing on your lips is triumphant; he walked right into your little jab, hehe.

Your mind is already racing, piecing together the beginning of a sarcastic rant about how his perpetual scowl probably contributed to his mysterious high school persona. For the sake of his ego, you won’t add how it worked in his favor, how more than one girl (your own self) found his untouchable vibe completely irresistible.

Even though, thinking back, he looked ridiculous. His big, round, slightly scared-of-the-world eyes truly didn’t belong with the heavy black eyeliner.

But before you can get a single word out, Jeongguk straightens his posture, pulling away from your chest. With a practiced motion, he tosses one of his gloves onto the counter behind him, his expression cool and indifferent. “It’s done.”

“Done?!” you exclaim, tilting your chin down to look at your chest. You go slightly cross-eyed trying to catch a glimpse of the design now inked onto your skin. Forever.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even feel it.”

Jeongguk seems equally done with small talk, transitioning into a professional explanation of the tattoo’s aftercare step. His tone is calm but clipped, and you can’t tell if it’s his usual demeanor or just reserved for you. He also hands you a small tube of cream of which you’re not sure the use of, too enthralled by the vision of his colored sleeve this up close.

And still laying on the leather bed, you almost reach to trace one of the many lines with your finger before he interrupts, “You can pay with Yoongi at the entrance.”

Clearing your throat, you sit up, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt as Jeongguk turns his back to you, his focus already back on cleaning his tools. You still are not over, “Thank you, Jeongguk. Can I— huh. Can I get your number?”

He pauses mid-motion, just long enough for the silence to stretch thin and taut. Turning around to study your features, he stares you up and down with knitted brows and a hostile kind of confusion painting his expression. “… For what exactly?”

“In case anything happens with the tattoo.”

Jeongguk stills for a second, eyes narrowing slightly, then turns back to what’s keeping him so occupied with a noncommittal grunt, “Huh. Sure. Yoongi has my business cards at the desk. You can ask him. Have a good day.”

With Eunbi practically dragging you out of the room, you don’t have the chance to say anything more, though your chest burns with indignation. It’s not that you expect him to fall over himself at the chance to catch up, but the sheer indifference is maddening.

Should you pretend you don’t care either? You could. But really, who are you fooling? You still have those old diaries buried somewhere in your closet, their pages crammed with his name written in looping, lovesick cursive. That little girl in you never truly died.

On the fourth day of December, you finally text him. It’s about your tattoo, of course. There’s not much else to say to him, but when his only reply to your picture of the healing process is a yellow thumbs up, you find your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Words start forming before you’ve fully processed them, and before you know it, you hit send.

You [3:39 p.m]: btw u still friends with kim tae?

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: Yes

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: He’s my best friend

You [3:43 p.m.]: ohhh, cool

jeongguk [3:45 p.m.]: You want his number?

You [3:46 p.m.]: no… i’m good with yours ☺️

You can’t help but giggle at how his typing bubbles appear and then fade for a whole minute, biting your lower lip with a sheepish grin, savoring the silent victory. You’re doing this for your fourteen-year-old self, who would’ve squealed at the thought of making Jeon Jeongguk flustered. But you’re a different girl now. You’ve changed. No man could ever reject—

jeongguk [3:48 p.m.]: If there’s nothing else about the tattoo then 👋

“Hmph,” your frown is so pronounced that you feel your chin aching and your wrinkles prematurely deepening. Well, this is not the first time you come face first with his sour antics. Only now, you’re prepared.

You [3:48 p.m.]: yall hanging out soon? let me join

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: Why lol

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: He barely even remembers you probs

You [3:50 p.m.]: who would not remember me

jeongguk [3:50 p.m.]: The only thing i’m now remembering about you is how I couldn’t stand your ass

You gasp, hand coming up to brush against your parted lips. With a huff, you hastily click at your keyboard, “Mean. Sent. Ugh.”

On the sixth day of December, your persistence pays off, and you find yourself at a random bar you’d never been to before, seated with both Jeongguk and Taehyung.

Between Jeongguk’s cigarette breaks—forcing the three of you to brave the cold outside—and brief moments in corners of the cramped place where the music feels muffled against the walls, you manage to catch up with Taehyung. The rest of the time though, the noise inside is so deafening that it makes any kind of meaningful conversation impossible.

Even more when a random girl slides into the booth next to him, capturing his attention entirely, leaving you and Jeongguk in paradoxical silence.

The tattoo artist has been glued to his phone with his head down for the last 20 minutes, and now you alternate between observing his side profile, roughened by the piercings and a more defined jawline, and analysing the weird dynamic that is beginning to form between Taehyung and the girl, sitting in front of you.

Alone with your thoughts and, well, the pulsating music, you feel yourself getting unreasonably closer to symptoms you know all too well, that threaten to have you spiraling. You shake your head, forcing it to stop. There’s no reason for anxiety to visit you at such an inconvenient time.

But of course, the little voice in your head starts listing all the totally valid motives why this is indeed the perfect time for it to visit you.

The bar feels suffocating on your skin.

Your dress clings too tightly.

The couple facing you is shamelessly close to making out.

Jeongguk sighs in visible boredom.

You shouldn’t have come. Hell, you shouldn't have suggested it in the first place. A smarter version of yourself would have brought Eunbi for balance, for comfort. But in your foolishness, you thought this could be an opportunity for you and Jeongguk to catch up. Instead, you feel foreign to him, foreign to this pub booth, and the air begins to feel foreign to your lungs. You’ve never liked bars, clubs, or places with loud music.

You sniffle, looking down at your lap. Then up at the ceiling. Then around the room. It keeps spinning and booming with volume that only adds to the feeling of helplessness. Quick, quick, quick.

What are five things that you can see?

Five. Your gaze falls on Taehyung and the girl, their lips and tongues clumsily entangled as they laugh between sloppy kisses. No help there. The air catches harder in your throat.

Four. Your empty glass, its smudged rim a reminder of the single drink you had, now sitting uncomfortably in your stomach.

Three. Your scuffed heels, their tips worn to the nub despite your best efforts to hide it with a marker.

Two. The swirling lights above the bar, dizzying as they flash brighter and brighter.

One. Jeongguk’s tattooed hand on your thigh.

His fingers dig into the skin, shaking you alarmedly, with a force you’ve never known from him, not even when it came to stopping your shaking stomach as you were laying on the studio’s leather bed.

Head snapping up to face him, you’re met with a perfect resemblance of how you must look right now. Wide eyes, knitted brows, nose flaring and exhaling, and you try to follow the movements of his mouth, but they jumble together annoyingly in your brain. You lean closer, narrowed orbs still fixated on his lips to try and read them. Are… you… ok—

“___, you’re scaring me. Hey, hello? Are you okay?”

Jeongguk moves from your thigh to your shoulders, jolting you gently but firmly from the fog that is threatening to cloud up your brain. The sudden clarity hits you, but you still stumble forward, your weight toppling over his chest. With it, your head dips rapidly, hurtling toward the sharp edge of the table, and before Jeongguk knows it his instinct snaps and he catches you promptly.

The next steps blur together. You vaguely register the boy next to you standing up and pulling you along with him, his broad shoulders supporting one of your arms while his inked one secures around the small of your waist, holding you firmly against him.

Then, it’s nothing but brief flashes. Jeongguk pressing a water bottle to your lips. Sitting you down on the stairs outside the pub. Holding your hair back as you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach onto the pavement. Cracking a smile to make you laugh, showing off his tattoos in exaggerated detail like it’s the grandest tour of your life. Opening the door to his car and gently easing you into the passenger seat, ensuring the seatbelt clicks into place.

Inside his car, you slowly feel your senses come back to you.

At a redlight that you recognise as the one near your apartment complex, you muster a small and hoarse thank you. Jeongguk only hums low, eyes fixated on the road and fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.

Before a sheepish smile can make its way on your lips and spread across your face, your head twitches back as your brows furrow. Your thoughts suddenly catch up with you, “Hey, how do you know the way to my flat?”

His gaze briefly flicks toward you in annoyance, then back to the road. “You literally just told me.”

“Oh.” A beat passes before you giggle softly. “Don’t remember.”

Jeongguk mutters something intelligible under his breath, and next thing you know he’s turning down your street and slowing in front of the building that matches the number you gave him. Given your current state, he begins to question if that is even the right one.

“This one!” You point at the tall front gate with an almost childlike excitement, back shifting slightly from the seat as your grin stretches wide. Jeongguk grimaces. Why the fuck do you look like you’ve been reuinted with your home after years apart, as if you weren’t there just a couple hours ago?

“Right. Huh, you good with going back on your own?”

“Yes. I’d hate to bother you further. I’m sorry for this, I… was getting better, I guess.”

The sad confession doesn’t land with the weight it should, softened by the smile painted on your lips and the chuckle you let out as if it were nothing. Jeongguk’s eyelid twitches, unsettled by the unnecessary happiness that always seems to drip from you, even when it doesn’t belong.

“‘S okay. Have a good night,” he awkwardly bows his head, waiting for you to exit the car. When you stay still, he clears his throat, adding just to fill the silence, and perhaps because he means it, “Huh, and make sure to rest a lot.”

You take a moment, maybe longer than you should, to study his features up this close. You particularly fixate on the way his eyes dart everywhere but never land on yours. Then, with your signature toothy grin, you bow back and open the car door, leaving with a string of thank yous, and get home safe, and I’ll text you, and please, reply to me, and bye.

Jeongguk has to fight a smile of his own.

On the tenth day of December, you realise you want him. Even more badly than your fourteen-year-old self ever did. Which is frankly insane.

You don’t know if it was the natural way he looked after you during your episode, or his dry sarcasm as he actually started replying to your random updates throughout the day.

But no, it was definitely the selfie he sent you after what he said was a long day. Messy hair, tired eyes, a hint of a smile. You’d struggled to even gulp down your saliva when the picture popped up in your chat, and maniacally stared at it with eyes glued to the bright screen before sending one of your own. He had replied with Cute. followed by Your hair pin is cute.

That is why you find yourself facing… Yoongi? If you remember correctly. The guy at the front desk of Jeongguk’s studio.

You beam at him, and what you’re met with instead is a confused stare. You inhale, “Hi. Is Jeongguk in?”

Yoongi scratches his head, muttering, “He’s busy with a client.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” you wave off his concern. “Can I wait here?”

The boy hesitates, looks unsure the more your interaction develops, and he glances between you and the empty waiting area. He relents with furrowed brows, “Sure… Huh, It’s a back tattoo, so it’ll take him a while.”

You shrug and plop yourself onto the leather sofa, seemingly unfazed, “I like waiting.”

Crossing your legs, you take in the studio’s atmosphere, eyes drifting to the dark walls lined with framed artwork and certificates. You spot Jeongguk’s name on many of those.

For the next fifteen minutes, you try distracting yourself by flipping through the stack of tattoo magazines on the coffee table. You wince at inked heads, faces, butts, and even… more private parts. Deciding this world is definitely not for you, you slam the book shut.

By the time an hour passes, you’re fighting a battle with your lack of sleep. The third yawn you manage to stifle, but the fourth escapes before you can stop it. Yoongi, seated at the desk, doesn’t bother hiding his unimpressed stare. Still, he’s polite enough to offer you a glass of water, a coffee, or even a chance to join him for a cigarette break.

You decline all of it, though your throat does feel dry.

Maybe you should have planned this with a bit of rationality. Or at least gotten more sleep. Now, your every blink is slower, eyelids batting to shut and taking longer to flutter open again. Hm, this feels nice. You’ll just let them rest for a bit longer. And longer. And a bit more.

The next time you open your eyes, Jeongguk’s face is inches away, his warm hand resting firmly on your arm. You jolt upright with a startled yelp.

“Jeongguk.”

He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in an unmistakably mocking smirk. “Hey. You don’t have a bed?”

You sit up, forcing Jeongguk to step back and straighten to his full height. Your neck cranes upward to glare at him, brows furrowed in what you hope is an intimidating glare, though you sport a pout that is all but menacing, “Shut up.”

He clicks his tongue, turning back to round the desk and fiddle with the appointment book, clearly unbothered. You take the moment to rub your eyes—only to remember, too late, that you’d worn makeup. A quick glance around reveals how much has changed since you last let your eyelids flutter open. The lights in the studio are dim, the hallway is dark, and every door is shut. Yoongi is nowhere in sight. It’s just the two of you in the deathly quiet space.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your parted lips, “Did I fall asleep? I'm so sorry. I was probably really tired from yesterday.”

Jeongguk hums, focus still locked on the book in front of him, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t ask why you came here in the first place, and doesn’t acknowledge your apology. Ugh. This is humiliating.

Before you can stand, you feel something heavy draped over your body. It’s a jacket. Definitely not yours, since you never took it off. At least not consciously. No, this is a worn black leather one on which his scent lingers. You tug it closer, puzzled, and then look up at him, holding it out. “Did I steal this in my sleep?”

Jeongguk scrunches his nose, “Ew, are you a sleepwalker?” Locking the till, he strolls over to you and plucks the jacket from you, casually slipping it on. “No, I put it on you. Wanted to see how long someone could feel safe enough to pass out in my studio. Thinking of turning this place into a daycare. I’ll have you play in the morning, get some lunch, nap time...”

There’s a beat of silence in which his sarcasm lingers in the air, and you stare at him, unamused. He shrugs, smirk unwavering.

You huff, “I regret coming here.”

“Yeah, why did you come here?”

Smoothing down your pink wool sweater, you stand up to stretch with zero shame. Then, fluttering your lashes at him, you assert with a smile, “You’re coming with me to the Christmas markets. This Sunday.”

Jeongguk groans like the idea physically pains him, “Oh, I would fucking hate that.”

Ignoring him, you zip up your puffer jacket and rock on your toes, “Pick me up at seven, okay?”

He glares, unimpressed at your excitement, before heading toward the entrance and pulling a hefty set of keys from his pocket, “I don’t even remember where you live.”

You hurry after him, following him outside and shuffling closer in your coat at the cold air hitting you. Watching as he locks the door and pulls down the rolling shutter with its red-and-black skull graffiti, you chirp, “You’ll have to text me for that.”

Jeongguk rises up again, giving you a slow once-over. He seems distracted by your hair before snorting, “You’re talking like I’m the one who spent their afternoon napping in my studio just to drop this bomb and leave. Couldn’t you just text me this?”

You shrug innocently. He sighs, reaching out for you, “Do you need a ride hom—”

“Bye!”

You spin on your heel and skip off in the opposite direction before he can let his own greeting out, waving a gloved hand behind you. Jeongguk stays where he is, arm still held out.

Do you even have a car? He hopes so—it’s freezing out.

With another sigh, he shakes his head and tugs his jacket tighter around himself. Why are you so fucking weird?

On the fourteenth day of December, your arm is looped tightly through Jeongguk’s as you stroll through the Christmas markets, burying your face further in your scarf to shield against the icy air, and with each few step you gasp at things that the boy next to you finds utterly unimpressive.

You stop at nearly every stand, eyes glowing with the warm Christmas fairy lights strung all around, effortlessly picking up conversations with the vendors and melting even the most stoic faces with the scrunching of your nose at every grin and the exaggerated nods following descriptions of their crafts.

Through all of it, Jeongguk remains put at your side, his arm linked with yours and a subtle pout on his lips. When you tease him about it, he simply shrugs, and you figure it’s just his natural expression. You find that oddly endearing.

He still humors your enthusiasm, offering low hums or murmured praise whenever you exclaim you’ve finally found what you’ve been searching for everywhere, and he offers to pay every time, the gesture so casual that he doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

When you bow to the nth seller, clutching yet another bag of sweet treats tightly to your chest, Jeongguk exhales and resumes slow walking beside you, “I don't like these places.”

You glance up at him, fluffy hat almost slipping off before he promptly secures it back on your head with a gesture so smooth you hardly notice it. You instead wonder, “Then why are we here now?”

He slips his hand into his pocket, “Because you threatened me.”

“With a really good time.”

“If this is your version of a good time, you might as well kick me in the balls. That probably feels better.”

You gasp, halting in your tracks to glare at him. When he lets a small chuckle topple out of him, you think you might forgive him. No, you’re more than sure with the way his smile lingers. You sheepishly look away, muttering, “Don’t tempt me, emo boy.”

“I’m not—”

“Oh yes, you are,” you interrupt, snapping your face back to his. Clearing your throat, you prepare your best imitation of him, exaggerating a frown and lowering your voice, “I’m so different, I hate Christmas.”

Jeongguk scoffs, pulling you tighter to him when a scooter unexpectedly zips past you. You yelp, instinctively shuffling closer to his arm. He continues the conversation casually, unaffected, “That’s the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard. And also, I never said that.”

Releasing the breath you held for a moment too long, you uncertainly keep your slow stroll going, only narrowing your orbs at him, “It’s written all over your face.”

“I love Christmas.”

The admission is small, his voice soft and almost reluctant, like it pains him to reveal something so simple and obvious as loving Christmas. When you lean your chin on the puffed arm of his jacket, he doesn’t look down at you, his gaze fixed ahead, guiding the two of you through the chaos of the busy street.

You chirp, your steps stumbling, “Really?

Only then he shifts his attention to you, steadying you with his other arm wrapping around your figure in what seems like a hug, before he lifts you up by the neck of your coat and retreats just enough to face you. His lips press into a straight line as he nods, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes the more he stares in yours, “Yeah, really. I just don’t like… crowded spaces.”

You can’t help but think back to what happened just a week ago. The exact reason why the spirals in your brain wouldn’t stop twisting and tangling is now slipping from his lips in a voice that quietens as he seems to grasp the delicacy of his own confession.

He doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him. Drawn-up brows over wide and sparkling eyes—the only part of your face visible beneath your scarf—stare at him with something too tender, too focused, that makes him uneasy. He turns his head to the side, the tips of his ears red not only from the cold, and pulls you along toward another stand, an almost nervous distraction.

It’s your turn to frown. Maybe the one that’s permanently plastered on his face tonight isn’t just a reflection of his usual sullen demeanor. With a knot tightening in your chest, you can’t help but feel like you dragged him into something he truly hated, and that he wasn’t just pretending to.

What if this isn’t just your evil inner voice talking? What if this isn’t just overthinking, but the factual truth of your current reality? He’s hating every second of this but still enduring it because— you catch your breath with a long and strained inhale, because—

“Hey, dimples. You okay?”

Jeongguk moves to stand in front of you, his hands settling gently on your shoulders, a stance eerily reminiscent of that night you were just thinking back to. He nods at you, “Breathe with me, hm?”

You find yourself quickly adjusting to his comforting aura, drawn in by the reassurance in his eyes trained on you, never wavering, watching closely as you begin to mirror the measured rise and fall of his chest, your breathing gradually syncing with his until the tightness in your chest starts to ease.

When you feel your feet touching the ground again, you offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m okay. Sorry. Just…” You quickly scan your surroundings, eyes landing on a colorful stand, “Wait here a second, okay?”

Jeongguk lets you slip away, fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He takes a few hesitant steps closer, careful not to crowd you but unable to tear his eyes away from your next actions, how your grin comes back on your lips with unpracticed ease, lighting up your face as easy talk flows between you and the seller. A few coins trade hands, and soon you’re holding two churros, their chocolate-dipped ends threatening to drip onto the ground.

You don’t hesitate, biting into one of them before it has the chance to make a mess, and with a quick nod of your head you motion for Jeongguk to follow. He does so, only after taking the churros from your hands, and letting you seek his warmth again with an arm snaking under his. He’s only letting you do this because it’s fucking cold, no other reason.

You walk, and walk, guiding him along until you find a quieter corner, away from the bustle, where you two stand isolated from the rest. The dim lighting casts a softer glow, and the distant hum of chatter and music fades into a gentle background noise.

Glancing up at him, you flash a playful smile before leaning in to bite another chunk of the churro he’s holding, your laughter spilling out as he grimaces in exaggerated disgust and pulls the sweet out of your reach. You settle onto a nearby bench, patting the empty spot beside you invitingly.

Jeongguk is unsure of what this means. He takes slow steps towards you, handing you your churro—which you take eagerly, already chewing on it—before tilting his head back in mild confusion, “But… you wanted to visit the markets.”

You shake your head, your bug eyes meeting his as you speak around a mouthful of sugar and chocolate, “There’s no point if you’re not going to enjoy it.”

The look you’re giving him is one he’s seen countless times before—familiar, and annoyingly reminiscent of ten years ago. It’s the same look that, he’s convinced, is solely responsible for making his knees weak and his fingers jittery, no longer something he can blame on the cold. You’re unbelievably frustrating.

He clicks his tongue, looking away, “You’re fucking weird.”

You giggle, humming, “If weird is a synonym for whipped, then sure.”

He has to fight the twitch of his lips. Fakes a gag instead. You chuckle louder. Only then, he hints at a smile, “C’mon. Let’s go check out some other stuff.”

“But—”

He interrupts, pulling you up by your forearm, “I’m hungry.”

The next hour you spend wandering around is made of Jeongguk’s small, imperceptible ways of cracking: his pout less prominent, more replaced by lips pulled into a tight line or in a mildly pursued scowl as you ask him which beanie looks better—the pink or purple one; his so evident sarcasm as he comments on how the old vendor was totally flirting with you, or when he mockingly adds to your over-the-top excitement every time you spot a dog. All in all, he’s more relaxed. More himself.

You then find yourself standing in front of the churros stall from earlier, the warm scent tugging you closer. Without hesitation, you ask the lady behind the counter for another four churros—this time with extra sugar. You add two thank yous.

To fill the waiting, you pick up casual conversation with the woman, until she pauses mid-sentence, wrinkled hand coming to rest over her heart as her gaze flits between you and Jeongguk, her crinkled eyes lighting with a sudden fondness and a quiet, content smile finds its space on her chapped lips, “You two look perfect together.”

Jeongguk snorts, “Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you, auntie!” You chirp, and your grin is so wide it squeezes your eyes into crescents. You accept the first churro she hands over, biting into it and talking through it, “These are delicious. Is the recipe a secret or can you share it with me?”

The woman laughs, clearly flustered by your energy, and leans in with a conspiratorial expression, though she gives in pretty soon, “It is a secret, but… Oh, c’mon. A pretty lady like you deserves to know.”

You burst into chuckles, joined by auntie’s own rolling and carrying a contrasting warmth to the cold air. Jeongguk, for his part, stands slightly to the side, observing. You still cling to his arm, even as the vendor reaches over to gently smooth her fingers through your curls, complimenting the way they frame your face. You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation, but there’s a dimpled smile stretching on your cheeks that gives you away.

Before you leave, the lady points to Jeongguk, voice growing earnest, “You, handsome. I can see you’re a good guy, so you probably don’t need my advice. But treat her right, yes?”

Jeongguk stills for a second and stumbles over an awkward nod, managing to force a smile that has you stifling a laugh under your scarf. You tug him away with a cheerful wave to your new friend, promising her you’ll come visit again before Christmas.

Once you’re at a safe distance, he mutters, “Why did you not tell her that we’re not together?”

You tilt your head considering his question, “It’s not like she knows us. She looked like she adored you. I didn’t want to ruin that for her. Maybe seeing a young couple like us really means a lot to her.”

Jeongguk observes how the more you explain, the more you’re convincing yourself as much as him, eventually solidifying your reasoning as you nod, muttering some more under your breath. He scoffs, looking away to hide his lips twitching.

When he turns back he’s frowning, though it doesn’t quite match the way he lets you hook arms again, your pastel pink bag hanging from his shoulders. Still, he sulks as though the mere thought of your observation has him shivering, and not with the cold, “We’re not a couple.”

Jeongguk barely gets to let his unnecessarily petty comment out before you drag him with an unusual strength over to another stand, his voice not even touching your ears, “Oh, let’s go over there, Gguk!”

On the twenty-first day or December, you send him a picture of your tattoo.

You had been talking non-stop ever since your… date? Or was it just a hangout? Whatever it was, it’s been a week, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling at a fucking screen too many times a day for his linking. It’s irritating. Even brings his phone with him to the bathroom in case you text him. Not because he cares. No, it’s practical. What if you ever had an emergency and he was the only one who could help?

Most of the time it’s just you sending TikToks, but he clicks on the links with the same urgency he’d reply to a genuine plea for help. He doesn’t really want to think of the reason why.

Now, this picture—it catches Jeongguk off guard.

It doesn’t even look like it’s about the tattoo. Not really. It feels like an excuse, a flimsy pretext for you to show yourself to him. The tattoo—the one he himself inked—is there, yes. But it’s not at all the main focus of the photo that tightens his grip on his phone.

You’re wearing a thin, pink tank top with delicate lace trim, the straps barely clinging to your shoulders. Your fingers hook under the neckline, tugging it down just enough to expose the tattoo nestled between the soft curve of your breasts. The angle of the shot is deliberate, he can tell. Your back arches slightly off what he assumes is your bed, and your face is cropped out, save for your glossed lips, full and slightly parted, catching the dim light.

Jeongguk blinks, hard. Then again. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, the low light of his phone screen doing little to soften the image burning itself into his mind. His eyes dart upward, scanning his surroundings, just to make sure everything is in place. The shop is empty, the door is closed, the hum of quiet settles over the space.

Looking down, the picture still stares back at him paired with a single message.

Annoying [11:39 p.m.]: do you think it’s healed? idk about this stuff, need your help 🥺

He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what this is. He alternates between the photo and your words, jaw ticking and tightening more with the seconds flowing.

It’s almost cruel, the way you’re testing him like this. He tries to push the feeling down, to reject the buzz of heat pooling low in his stomach. You know him well enough to be aware that he won’t reply to something like this. A stupid, unnecessary message. The tattoo is healed—he told you that a week ago, clear as day. There’s no reason for you to ask again.

What’s the purpose of this?

He gets a distorted idea when he shifts uncomfortably in place, the dull ache tightening his pants almost unbearable now.

Jeongguk groans and locks his phone, tossing it onto the counter as if that will put an end to this. He tries to refocus on his tasks, the last ones before he clocks off. Cleaning needles, tossing used stencils.

But his heavy balls keep sending desperate, silent prayers to his brain, to please let them have this. Just this once.

It’s been a bad day. Two of his appointments canceled last minute, leaving him to sit around bored. The last client showed up drunk and wouldn’t stop trying to flirt with him. His coworkers were loud and distracting, and to top it all off, the heater broke, leaving the studio freezing cold.

It’s been such a bad day.

So, would there be any harm? It’s not like anyone will know. Not you, not his friends. He’s the only one that will. And he’s far more willing to live with this dirty secret rather than with his hard dick straining achingly in its confines.

Jeongguk abruptly snatches up his phone again, unlocking it to the same picture that caused him to brush the device aside just minutes ago. He lets out a shaky breath, thumb hovering over the screen. You won’t get no reply to him. But if you knew what he was up to right now, you would probably geek. Tease him, with your warm smile that digs dimples in your cheek, hopping on your toes to poke at his chest playfully, with those perfectly manicured hands of yours.

“Shit,” his free hand is already pushing the jeans down along with his boxers, and he drops his weight onto the nearest stool as he grips at the base of his thick cock, eyes devouring the image of you in the empty chat.

He doesn’t zoom in. That would feel too shameless. But he finds it oddly better like this. Is it weird that your text, so innocently worded, is turning him on? That the simple idea of you needing his help is enough to have his hips jerking?

What could you possibly need his help for? Fuck. The different ideas that pool his mind have him squeezing harder at his stinging tip.

Jeongguk focuses on your dainty hand, slim pointer finger snaking under the collar of your flimsy shirt to show yourself to him, and your small boobs spill from the sides with a delicious, soft swell. He hisses when he pictures that same hand working on him instead, his warm mouth stuffed with your stiff nipples, visible through the sheer material.

He can’t help the loud groan leaving his lips, wrist flickering up and down in a motion that feels sloppy way too soon, hips jutting up to fuck into his tight fist. Throwing his head back, he sees you even behind closed eyelids.

He pictures your delicate figure sprawled on his bed, long lashes batting up at him as you sheepishly hide with your cheek to your shoulder. Can clearly make out how you’d sit on his lap instead, unsteady breath fanning over his lips, using his long shaft to make yourself cum. The whole time, he sees the tattoo on your chest, the one that is forever on you, eternally a reminder of him.

When he lets his head topple forward again, his bright screen still stares at him, only because a new message pops up in the chat. He startles, and his cock throbs in his hand.

Annoying [11:52 p.m.]: oh, and i miss you.

“Oh, fuck,” the curse is strained through a loud whine, and only followed by more of his full moans filling the room. His brows knit as his hand moves rapidly, palm collecting the precum spreading embarrassingly fast on his tip and rolling it down his length.

He focuses on your parted lips, the soft curve of your breast, your hard nipples begging to be sucked and spit on. Your last text has flashes of your bug-like eyes staring up at him seizing his mind.

That’s what undoes him. He’s delirious as he lets out his every sound, freely, unchecked, not caring about how loud he is, whimpering as he gets closer to his climax. When he thinks of those eyes locking with his, kneeling before him, eager and willing to swallow his every drop, he cums. Hard.

Jeongguk pumps everything he can out of him, and it’s messy—spilling over his hand, staining his clothes, pooling on the floor. His chest heaves with the effort, and the sensation of abandon he feels is so pleasurable, energy drained but leaving him with a lightness that threatens to make his cock hard again.

Fuck. He can’t afford that happening if you’re not the one attending his needs. This won’t be enough, not until it’s you. He’s insatiable.

Jeongguk needs to hear your voice.

It’s an instinct, and he bends to it. He’s careful, making sure not to tap on the FaceTime option, because if you were to see him right now it’d be glaringly obvious.

When he looks to the side, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the long mirror, and he visibly grimaces at the way his cheeks are flushed, the pearls of sweat coating his forehead causing his bangs to stick uncomfortably to the skin.

Guilty doesn’t even begin to cover it.

With the phone to his ear beeping to eternity, he hesitates, contemplates ending the call before you can answer. But just then, you do.

“Jeongguk! Is everything okay?”

Your voice is familiarly soft, but there’s a trace of concern. Blinking, he brings the device closer again and gulps thickly when he can make out your panting breaths. He clears his throat and puts on his best nonchalant act, “Huh— Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know… You just never call. Or text first. This is weird. You sure you’re okay?”

Oh. Is that really what it is like?

Jeongguk never realized this was how he came across—so detached that a simple phone call feels out of character. Your naive honesty hits him square in the chest. God, he needs to get better at this. The irony stings: he just fucking jerked off to your picture and the simple thought of you, while you’re on the other side thinking he’s just a careless piece of shit who doesn’t even know how to call.

The long stretch of silence registers in his brain, and he coughs to buy time, “Yes, I’m sure. I— huh,” he thinks of stuff you usually ask to keep the conversation flowing. Not out of courtesy, but out of genuine interest, the curiosity that makes people want to open up. He’s still not used to that. Still finds it weird.

“How… How was your day?”

It must be equally weird for you because it takes you a longer beat to reply. In that quiet moment, he clenches his eyes shut and feels his jaw tick with shame. And embarrassment. And this icky feeling that makes him feel too mushy for his liking. Hell, what is he doing? He’s never been like this, he’s not supposed to be like this.

But you recover quickly, as you always do, and you smooth over the moment. Fix it all for him like you were born to be just that. Make him feel like he fits in ways that have him exhaling shakily.

Jeongguk senses a foreign drumming in his stomach, and it’s warm but odd, and he loves it but he doesn’t want to.

On the twenty-fifth day of December, cheekily under a mistletoe, Jeongguk realizes he wants you. There’s parts of him that probably knew way sooner. But the parts of him that didn’t, fighting tooth and nail to suppress the mere thought, are just now finally surrendering.

Jeongguk has always found you admirable, back in high school. You had this determination to you. Not only when it came to him. It shone particularly when you catered to others, always finding ways to help, to mend, to offer yourself with nothing less than a fully toothed smile.

But he’s also always thought you two were—and still are—too different to work. He can’t be what you want, let alone what you deserve: someone who can match your enthusiasm and unwavering smiles, your frustrating positivity; someone who sees the world the way you do. No black, no grey, no shades in between. Just bright, hopeful white. Blinding white.

It’s the white making him dizzy, shifting his perspective, having him believing the opposite of what he’s always known. Pushing to be a little more egoistical, deceiving himself that he’s right for you. Because he wants to be. He oh, so selfishly wants people to know he’s the one who finally gets to have you, the one gifted with such a light, unfairly deserving of all the love you carry into every room you walk into.

Just a few days ago, during another one of your increasingly frequent phone calls, you asked him what he was doing for Christmas. He could have lied, come up with something on the spot.

But with how you so easily, and always coax the truth out of him, he let it slip. He told you he’d be alone, words subtly heavy. But they didn’t have the chance to even drop their weight before you were already inviting him to your friend’s party, insisting that he would be the most welcome.

And he’s here, and he sits beside you, and every time you laugh you lean your weight over him, and the room vibrates with the energy you fill it with, and each one of your friends is so enamoured with you, and for reasons he can’t fully understand it fills him with a sense of pride that shouldn’t belong to him. But it does, and it comes with so many other feelings.

You don’t push him to talk. You never force him into the spotlight when he takes a step back, quietly observing, choosing to stay in the background. Because you read him like it’s in your nature to do so, your soul seems to intuitively melt with his, and it intertwines in such a tight knot that he feels it constrict his throat. He knows he’s still alive because his heart is beating, just a little faster with each time you flash your dimples at him.

“Dimples. What are you doing, hm?”

Now, he’s in front of you, a small smile on his lips as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to dangle the mistletoe over both your heads. You’re struggling just a little, your hand unable to reach high enough, and the fake plant awkwardly brushes his hair, the tickling sensation causing his nose to scrunch. You laugh.

Looking up at your swinging movements, you lose your balance for the slightest second. Jeongguk’s hands move instinctively, catching you promptly by the waist to steady your body. But even after that, he doesn’t shift, his warm palms stilling. And when you face him, he’s closer and his chest brushes against yours. From this proximity, he witnesses the Christmas lights painting a galaxy of their own in your orbs.

You beam, “What does it look like? We have to kiss now.”

Jeongguk stares in your expectant eyes, brows wiggling and all. The more his mouth keeps in a straight line, the more the wiggling slows. You eventually come down from your tiptoes, letting the mistletoe fall to the side, tilting your head.

He snorts, looking away briefly to hide an embarrassingly wide grin behind his hand. When he turns back to you, your pout is enough to have him scrambling to meet your gaze.

“On one condition, though.”

You chirp, “Yeah?”

He licks his teeth, reserving you with a smug look, “Admit that you were scared to get your tattoo.”

Your smile vanishes in an instant, your expression falling into mock offense. With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you turn on your heel, pretending to walk away from him. Pretending, only because you know he won’t let you. And you’re proven right when his fingers wrap around your arm, tugging you back with enough force to spin you into him. Suddenly, you’re pressed so close you can feel the heat radiating from him. Your chin nearly touches his chest as you glare up at him, narrowed eyes meeting the mischievous glint in his.

He bites a smile, lips twitching, “C’mon, princess. You wanted to act all tough and shit, but I could feel you shaking.”

Your scoff is loud and incredulous, “You’re such a bitch.”

He only shrugs, “You want my kiss, no?”

“Oh my god,” groaning, it’s your turn to face the side to hide a grin, “Are you always this cocky?”

His chin tilts upward slightly, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, “Say it.”

You whip back around to meet him with a seriousness he hardly ever sees on you, and you even clear your throat, channeling every ounce of the determination he knows you for, every drop of resolve that makes you you. “Yes. I was scared shitless, Jeongguk.”

Foreign excitement brims out of him, not before his eyes widen just a fraction, and his nose scrunches the more he leans closer to you, inches from you, swinging side to side with exaggerated mockery and a grin splitting his face, “See! I knew—hmph.”

There’s no other second to waste.

The condition has been met, and now all the requirements for you to claim what you were promised, your reward, are there. Even more when kissing him means catching him mid-taunt and silencing whatever teasing remark he had ready.

Your lips touch his in effortless ease, breaking the air as they press together. It’s tentative at first, almost uncertain as you feel Jeongguk remain still.

But it doesn’t take him longer to move, mouth molding against yours in a sickeningly sweet hug, tasting each other with quiet curiosity, taking your time to adjust and melt, instructing your bodies to imitate the dance.

Your arms lock around his neck, his stronger and tattooed ones circle your waist, and the way you click together feels so right, almost too perfect, so perfect it scares you. When you arch yourself further into him, even the non-existent space between you unbearable, he accompanies the motion with his wide palms gliding along your back, squeezing you into him, feeling the curve of your hips.

The soft whine that scratches your throat and vibrates against his lips betrays you, along with the useless effort to contain the intensity of what you’re feeling. The emotion disarms you, the sound gasping in your chest, but in Jeongguk’s arms it feels safe to let go.

On Christmas day, you crown a youthful fantasy, the kind you’ll look back to even when you’re older. Jeongguk feels like he’d be the right person to stand by you to do so.

When he reluctantly detaches from you, his face keeps at a safe distance that’d allow him to go back and taste you, not before resting his forehead on yours and whispering, “Merry Christmas.”

You giggle. “Merry Christmas, Gguk.”

2K notes · View notes

misojunnie · 5 months ago

Text

DELICATE ─ psh. ☆ (teaser)

does love ever cross the line?

# genre: rich kid!enemy!sunghoon x fem!reader, forbidden love, enemies to lovers, slow burn, family feud, non idol au

# warnings: substances, lots of pining/angst, cursing, insults, mature jokes, implied sex, I have no idea how businesses work plz don’t roast me

# featuring: sunghoon & enha! + le sserafim

# playlist: delicate by taylor swift, take care by beach house, love by kendrick lamar, babydoll by dominic fike, hurts so good by astrid s

# a/n: hello all! been a long time :,( my life has taken several turns since I started this account, and I've been so preoccupied with my own bs that running this blog is becoming harder than ever... hence my little disappearing act. but I don't want to disappoint u guys! this fic was supposed to be released several months but it completely slipped my mind :( I decided to log in once again to finally let you all see it! I hope you like it and I hope to be back again soon 💓 much love to all my dedicated readers and I appreciate you all more than you know!

# word count: 13.2k

# taglist: @lovialy @minniejenseo @powerpuffstuts @mnxnii @idkdykilr @ionlyreadforfanfics @heelovesmeknot @100520s @simjyunnie @scrumptiousloser @eneiyri @pinkkami @milkycloudtyg @enhypenlovre @pinkkami @m3chigo @saythenameseventeen178 @desistay @capri-cuntz.@taerifin @ohmykwonsoonyoung @vixensss

# unable to tag: @hohohobo

this was written upon anon request; check it out here!

when your father’s company cratered after a faulty business deal, a vendetta was formed between your family and the biggest export company in south korea. but that rivalry begins to falter when you fall in love with the ceo’s son.

[more under the cut!]

You hated the business world.

It was ruthless. Bloodless. It had no heart and no compassion. It taught you that humans were created to tear their own kind apart; it was a dog eat dog world.

A couple years ago, your family’s company went bankrupt, and you blamed it all on the Park Company. Fine, maybe your father held some culpability for throwing his business away in a deal that was obviously so faulty. But naivete and malice were entirely different things altogether; one was mostly harmless. The other? Not so much.

The Park Company was the most ruthless corporation in the business world. Working in any kind of business guaranteed running into them sooner or later. And now, not only had they run your business into the ground, they owned over ¾ of your company’s wealth in stock. Not that it was worth much anyway.

Well, it turns out fixing your father’s mistake was a little harder than you thought. Reviving a company from the dead was difficult, especially when public opinion wasn’t exactly favorable. So you made the riskiest decision yet; to start from scratch. You invested all your family’s ruined fortune on establishing your dream hotel. Even if it was the last thing you did, you would have more than a ruined corporation as your legacy.

With ten cents to your name and a pipe dream, you managed to create what would later be the most successful hotel chain in South Korea. Your wealth grew, and so did your reputation. Some praised you for making such a comeback, some degraded you for your family’s mistakes. And it definitely didn’t help that your father became a raging drunkard after his failure, raving the streets like a maniac. You even considered having him taken out just so he’d stop damaging your reputation, but you decided against it. To you, it didn’t matter. Your success was your only concern.

Destroying your life was all in a day’s work for the Parks. They were so obscenely powerful, that losing a mere company like yours was like losing an eyelash. Meaningless. You were nothing to them.

You hated them with a vengeance. They didn’t even know your name.

Or so you thought.

☆☆☆

Awards banquets were Sunghoon’s least favorite part of being in business. Forget the ruthlessness and backstabbing, dressing up in a suit and pretending to be successful blew all that warfare out of the water.

“It’s too tight.”

“It’s fine. You’ll be fine. Just stop complaining.”

“I’m not kidding, Jake. Loosen it or I’ll kill you.” Jake sighed, tugging on the navy blue tie until it was hanging loosely around Sunghoon’s neck, a stark and messy contrast to his crisp black suit and neat button up.

“Jesus Christ. After fifteen years, you’d think you’d know how to tie a tie.” Jake said, shaking his head as his best friend checked his hair in the mirror.

“Are you sure we have to go to this thing tonight?” Sunghoon huffed, brushing a stray piece of hair into place.

“Don’t be stupid. You’ve been going to these galas since you were six, and dragging me along with you.” Jake scoffed, pushing Sunghoon’s head from behind and ruining his hairstyle yet again, the latter glaring at him.

Jake Sim, heir to the Sim corporation. An airplane manufacturing company that was this close to going under when the Parks took pity and bought nearly all their stock. These days, their company was worth next to nothing, but young Sunghoon took Jake under his wing, and there was no escaping now, to his chagrin. Though they’d never admit it, they had grown very fond of each other.

“You love it.” Sunghoon teased, tearing his eyes away from the mirror after checking his hair a last time. “God, I can’t believe we’re still having these idiotic galas. Everyone just knows they’re a coverup for big corporations to distract from the fact that they’re abusing their poor workers.”

“Nobody cares these days. Put a bow on anything and the media will eat it up.” Jake said, adjusting his tie before slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Ready to ruin some lives? Destroy some young futures?”

“Not funny.” Sunghoon warned, pointing his finger at Jake while trying to tug on his shoes with the other hand. “You know how much I hate the company.”

“Say that as much as you want, but you’re still wearing shoes bought with your daddy’s blood money.” Sunghoon huffed.

“Hm...I suppose you’re right.” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the ball, Prince Charming.” Jake dragged Sunghoon out of the room by the wrist, locking it behind him, Sunghoon in tow.

Sunghoon sighed. God, how he hated his life. A legacy built on deception, and nothing he could do about it. Him and Jake made their way to the elevators, his dull eyes disappearing behind the closing doors.

He didn’t belong anywhere. Certainly not here.

☆☆☆

On the other side of the city, you were having an entirely different conversation.

“Take that off, Chae.” you said, biting into an apple. Your red lipstick bled into the fruit as you stared judgingly at Chaewon’s enormous diamond necklace.

“But it’s so pretty.” she crossed her arms, but you gave her a stern glance and she turned around to change with a roll of her eyes. “And you, put that out.” you swatted at Jay’s hand, a lit cigarette perched between his two fingers, roiling smoke spilling from the top. “You’re gonna make my new dress smell like smoke.”

“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Jay asked, putting out his cigarette on the corner of the coffee table, which made you frown. “No need to stress. You’ve done this business routine a million times over.”

“I’m just nervous, I guess.” you said, hands fidgeting in your lap.

“I thought you didn’t care what the Parks thought about you.”

“I don’t.” you said firmly, tongue poking into the flesh of your left cheek. “I just want things to go smoothly, that’s all.”

“So you’re not gonna stand up to those fuckers that ruined your life? No protest?” Jay asked, resting his chin on his hand. “You always wanted to take them down.”

“Of course I do. But tonight’s not the night.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead, smudging your foundation and cursing when you realized what you had done. “I just want to be put together, just for one night.”

“Well you certainly look the part, honey.” he said, eyes trailing over your floor length red gown. “You’re a proper businesswoman.”

“I hope so.” you laughed.

“You’re gonna kill it. I know it for a fact.” Jay said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing. “Now let’s get you to this ball.” You grinned up at him, getting to your feet and brushing the dust off your skirt with determination.

“Let’s show these people who the Queen company is.”

☆☆☆

When the email stated “an intimate gathering”, you didn’t exactly expect nearly 300 people crammed into a dancing hall. The building was bursting at the seams to hold all the milling guests as they sipped on champagne and dined on fine food, laughing boisterously, teeth chattering. You hid your mouth behind the rim of your glass. You didn’t want to talk to a single person tonight.

Across the room, Sunghoon was doing the same. He had just about enough of the noise, and was considering running to the bathroom to hide when his father clapped him on the back and engaged him in a conversation he didn’t care about.

You wished you could escape.

He wished he could escape.

You stood, leaving your empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter as you walked around the crowded hall, searching the crowd for anything of interest. Your eyes landed on the desserts, and you beelined for the table of sugary treats, hoping to at least find a bit of solace in them, head down as you avoided the public eye.

Your hand bumped into another’s when you reached for the tiramisu.

“Oh, excuse me.” he said softly. He was beautiful. Dark eyes, silken hair and pink lips. His posture was straight as a ruler, shoulders back and a kind look on his face. It was almost too cliche, running into this beautiful stranger.

If only you didn’t know who he was.

You turned to look at him, eyes meeting. “It’s you.” you said, and he stiffened at the sight of your face. “I was wondering when we would meet.”

Sunghoon wasn’t expecting the daughter of the Queen Company to be so beautiful. Sure, he had seen pictures, but they had never done you justice. And putting a face to the name was suddenly making him dizzy.

“Hello.” he said politely, avoiding your eyes as he gulped, throat dry. “I’m Park Sunghoon. Son of the Park company president.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” you waved him off. “No need for introductions between us. Time is valuable, let’s not waste it.”

“And patience is a virtue, so let’s make time.” Sunghoon said, smiling a tight lipped smile with his hands behind his back.

You looked at him skeptically. You didn’t think it was possible for Sunghoon to be more of a prick than you expected him to be, but he had somehow done it.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” you said, holding out your hand for a handshake. “President of the Queen company.” Rather than shaking your hand, Sunghoon bowed his head, his lips brushing over your knuckles as he held your hand, pressing a chaste kiss to it.

“Charmed.” he said, and your brows raised instinctively.

“I’m sure.” you scoffed, pulling your hand away and rubbing it on the side of your dress in disgust. Sunghoon’s eye twitched. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m rather busy.”

“With what, buzzing around the dessert table?”

“With running a business.” you snapped, turning on your heel and walking away as fast as you could. Sunghoon watched, listening to the faint clicking of your off-brand heels against the marble floor, shaking his head the moment you were out of sight.

He totally fucked that up.

“Jesus, that guy is more of an asshole than I thought.” you huffed, taking your assigned seat and placing the desserts you had gathered on the table, Chaewon excitedly reaching for a mango pudding.

“What, is that even possible?” Jay asked, sparking up another cigarette. You swatted the lighter out of his hand, and he scowled.

“Apparently so.” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. You couldn’t wait for this night to end. You could feel eyes on you from all sides, judging, watching your next move. Waiting for you to fuck up, waiting for you to make a mistake or a rash decision they could broadcast to the media.

“I think we started off of on the wrong foot.” you heard a voice say from behind you, and you craned your neck to meet the eyes of Park Sunghoon, yet again. Those damn dark eyes. Swimming with emotion.

“I think there’s a reason for that.” you responded sharply, quick as a whip.

“Let’s start over. What do you say?” he grinned, leaning his head down until he was at your level, ignoring the stares he received from your friends.

“I say I’d rather die than become acquainted with you. Sorry.” you said very unapologetically, pleased with the put-out expression on his face.

“Well,” he said, straightening up and adjusting his jacket indignantly. “Doesn’t someone have an enormous chip on her shoulder.” Your smug expression crashed, morphing into a scowl. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/l/n.” With that, he stalked away, nose turned up and an unpleasant look on his face.

“Stupid piece of shit.” Jay said, sparking up his cigarette with the lighter he retrieved from the floor. You didn’t try to stop him, just stewing in your own displeasure. You couldn’t believe that audacious bastard. Was he aware that his family was the sole reason for the ‘enormous chip on your shoulder’?

You tried not to let it get to you, and quickly gave up. Suddenly, this was feeling all too real, and you got to your feet, brushing off your dress, bunching it in your hands. You felt like you were going to throw up.

“Bathroom.” you mumbled, pushing your way past to get to the exit.

☆☆☆

If you didn’t know better, you’d think Park Sunghoon’s spirit was haunting you on purpose. The only thing convincing you otherwise was the fact that he was alive and well –to your chagrin.

You sat, fuming from your office as his snotty face stared at you from a newly mounted billboard across the street, a wide smile on his face as he endorsed some brand of cologne. So not only was he a scumbag businessman, now he was some kind of model? It turned your stomach to think about it.

“I want that billboard down, now.” you grumbled, dropping your head onto your desk in despair as Jay watched you with amusement.

“I can get someone to set it on fire, if you want.”

“Not necessary, but I appreciate the thought.” you said, standing and pacing around the room restlessly. “We need to take them down.” Jay snorted, taking a seat in one of your office chairs, twirling around comfortably.

“What, take down the biggest corporation in the country? It’s not as easy as it seems, honey.” You glared at him, continuing to pace. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I wholeheartedly support your ventures to destroy Park Sunghoon, but don’t you think your fury is a bit misplaced? His father is the one that destroyed your company.”

“Evil by association.” you waved him off. “Plus, he’s rude.”

“Can’t disagree with that.” Jay took a long drag. You hadn’t even noticed that he lit a cigarette, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“You seriously need to stop smoking.”

“I’ll stop when you stop seeking vengeance.”

“...Touche.”

☆☆☆

You seriously needed a vacation from work. After five 16 hour shifts, the exhaustion was beginning to set in. You couldn’t even remember the last time you went out with friends. A couple of years ago, there wasn’t a weekend where you, Jay and Chaewon weren’t in some hole in the wall drinking until you forgot your failures. But ever since your company took off, you didn’t have time for that behavior. But that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy a good dive bar now and then.

You snuck through the entrance of your favorite dive bar on the East side of the city, your slip skirt waving in the wind as you nodded to the security. This was the only bar in South Korea that wouldn’t sell you out to the papers, and besides that, they made a damn good Manhattan.

There were less than 10 people in the whole place, an odd couple here or there and some folks in need of a pick-me-up. You took a seat in the middle of the bar, your usual seat at the end taken by a sodden boy with a big hood that covered his face.

“Hey, Won.” you greeted the bartender as he wiped his hands with a towel, smiling at your entrance.

“Hey, y/n.” he said, throwing the towel over his shoulder. You heard the man beside you stir. “Manhattan?”

“You know it.” Jungwon reached for a bottle of whiskey, expertly mixing and measuring like it was muscle memory, finishing your cocktail with a flourish and sliding it over the counter. You had gone to high school with Jungwon and Sunoo, the two men who owned the bar, and had been friends ever since. You trusted them.

“How’s the business?” he asked, leaning with his elbows resting on the marble. “Saw you on the news the other day. Said you stormed out of the Park’s gala.”

You sighed, “Yeah. It’s been a tough week.”

“I hear that,” he said, straightening up with a grin. “You’ll get through it, stronger than ever. You always do.” you smiled, pressing the rim of the glass to your lips.

“Thanks, Won.”

“No problem. Just kick those greedy bitches in the ass for me.” That elicited a chuckle from you, Jungwon smiling upon hearing your laugh. “I’ll go get Sunny. I’m sure he’ll wanna say hi.”

“I’d love that.” you said gratefully, watching as Jungwon weaved around the back of the bar and into the back room. You looked down, sipping your drink, lost in thought.

“What are you doing here?” A grating, angry voice interrupted your haze. You turned to the boy sitting beside you, and it felt like you lost your buzz in an instant.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” you said, staring into the dark eyes of your nemesis yet again, this time foggy with drunkeness. “You seriously had to find the one place where I could escape your face?” he asked bitterly, taking another swig of his vodka soda.

“My face? There’s a sixty foot billboard of your face outside my window.” you grumbled, and he snorted gracelessly. You could tell by his hoodie being pulled forward and his bangs covering most of his face that he was trying to hide, just like you. “I’ve been going to this bar for four years.”

“Lucky you. I just found it last week.” he took another sip. You suddenly felt silly sitting multiple stools away from him, but you’d be damned before moving closer. “This is the only place that won’t sell me out to the press,” he sighed. “And their bartender is pretty damn good.” You observed the four empty glasses sitting beside him, the way he was slurring his words. Clearly he had come here for the same reason you had.

“Won’s a pro.” you said, averting your eyes. The Sunghoon before you was throwing you off. He had humanity, and you hated it. It gave you a reason to hate him a little less than before.

Jungwon emerged from the back, a bright faced brunette in tow. Grateful for the excuse to end the conversation with Sunghoon, you leapt out of your seat and rounded the bar to pull the man into a hug.

“Hey, Sunny!” you said brightly, and he grinned.

“I didn’t get a hug.” Jungwon rolled his eyes, reaching for a bottle of tequila to complete another order.

“How’ve you been?” Sunoo asked, releasing you to get a good look at your face. “Wow, it’s been awhile since you’ve been in here. You look all adult-like.” You scoffed, brushing him off. “Where’s Jay and Chae? I haven’t seen them in months.”

“I didn’t tell them I was coming.” you admitted.

“Ah, one of those nights?” he asked, and you nodded. “You busy working? I’ve seen you in the news, the company’s looking good.” Sunghoon snorted from beside you, and you resisted the urge to glare.

“Pretty busy, yeah. The business world is a battlefield right now.” you said with a pointed look at the man beside you who slammed his glass down on the counter.

“Another.” he muttered, and Jungwon looked him up and down skeptically.

“I think you’re done for the night. I’ve gotta cut you off.” Won said decisively, and Sunghoon looked up at him with glassy eyes.

“Fuck, whatever.” he said, getting up from his seat and drunkenly stumbling, tripping as he dismounted from the stool, using the counter to steady himself.

“He doesn’t look so good.” Sunoo said quietly, and you watched him, poking your tongue into the flesh of your cheek in confliction.

“You need help?” Jungwon said, ready to assist as he clapped a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder, but the older boy shook him off frustratedly.

“I’m fine, get your hands off of me.” he stuttered, swiping at him.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help.” Jungwon said defensively, shaking his head as Sunghoon tried, failing, to make his way to the door. You huffed, setting your drink down and abandoning the last sip as you made your way to him.

“Hey, stop being an idiot. Let’s get you a taxi.” you chastised, and he scowled.

“I don’t want help from you.” Sunghoon mumbled, and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re drunk, Sunghoon. It’d be a nightmare if the news caught you wandering on the street.” That made him think, and he begrudgingly wrapped an arm around your shoulders, refusing to speak.

“You need help?” Sunoo called after you, and you waved back at him.

“Don’t worry, I know him. Put the Manhattan on my tab.”

“It’s on the house, angel. Get home safe.” Jungwon said, and you sent him a grateful wave as you attempted to get Sunghoon out the door, shutting it behind you.

“Why are you doing this?” Sunghoon said, almost incoherent. “You could’ve sold me out to the press. To get your revenge.” You pondered his question, then shrugged.

“I can’t say I don’t want to.” you admitted. “But you’re vulnerable right now. I know what it feels like to be blindsided when you’re defenseless. I wouldn’t do that to anyone. Clearly not even my worst enemy.” Sunghoon snorted.

“You’re a good person.” he mumbled, his eyes practically closed with the weight of his exhaustion and intoxication.

“Take notes.” you chuckled as you texted your driver, simultaneously attempting to get Sunghoon over to a bench. “I called a car for you, so just sit tight.” You both sat in silence, staring into the dark city, breath fogging in the air.

“I am sorry, y’know.” Sunghoon said, nose and cheeks red from the cold air. “About what my father did. I never would have condoned it if I had the power to stop him.” You stared at him blankly, before the corners of your lips turned up.

“Thanks. You must really be drunk.” He chuckled in response.

“Yeah, maybe.” He shook his head.

“Y’know, Sunghoon,” you started. “I hope you run the company the way you think it should be run. Stand up for yourself.” He didn’t respond to that, just staring at the floor, twiddling his thumbs.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I think I will.” A car pulled up to the curb, and you sighed in relief. Sunghoon stood up, insisting he was fine when you tried to help.

“Goodbye, Sunghoon.” He looked back at you in silence, before nodding.

“Get home safe.” And with that, he shut the door of the car, the engine rumbling as he turned the corner and disappeared into the night.

☆☆☆

Park Sunghoon was an idiot. And he was finally beginning to accept it.

He woke up with a pounding headache, grimacing and gripping his forehead in pain. It felt like there was an 80 decibel bass pounding his head, and he blamed it all on the vodka soda. And you, of course. You were making his head spin.

He stumbled out of bed, attempting to shove his feet into the slippers next to his bed, confused to find that they were pink and at least three sizes too small.

“Morning, sunshine.” a feminine voice called, and Sunghoon was beginning to realize that this wasn’t his home at all. He froze as a beautiful young woman stepped out from the bathroom, a lush robe wrapped around her body. “Feeling sober?”

“How did I get here?” Sunghoon asked, dropping back onto the bed as the woman snickered, reaching into her closet.

“You were on the floor whining and crying outside the office building. I took you home when the press got wind of your theatrics. Remind me to get a key to your apartment copied if you’re gonna keep acting like this.”

“You don’t need a key, Yunjin. Don’t be stupid.” Sunghoon rubbed his head, frustrated. He didn’t even remember going to the office in the first place, much less being picked up by her; aka the daughter of his father’s closest business partner, aka the woman he was predicted to wed if all things went his family’s way.

He wasn’t partial to the idea. Neither was she.

“A thank you would be nice.” Yunjin rolled her eyes, emerging from the closet fully dressed, already on the phone and pulling on a pair of high heels. “Now get out of my apartment. I have to get to work.” She tossed him a key and a fresh tee shirt from her closet. “Get dressed and lock up when you’re done.”

“Got it.” Sunghoon said, rubbing his eyes and pulling the tee shirt over his head. Yunjin looked back at him, tongue poking into her cheek.

“My mother still wants me to marry you, y’know.”

“Well she and my mother have that in common.” He rolled his eyes. She frowned.

“You’re too careless, Sunghoon.” The door shut, and Sunghoon was left to think about her words. His mind raced as he recalled the night before.

Your kindness.

Your smile.

How he apologized and didn’t think twice.

He shook his head, shuffling to the kitchen and opening the fridge, the cold tile pressing against his feet. Maybe he was too careless.

☆☆☆

The room felt stuffy, and so did your nose. You wondered if you were catching a cold, or if you were just allergic to business dinners.

“Hey, y/n.” Jake said, taking a seat beside you. You wiped your nose, flashing him a tight smile.

“Hey.” you replied, looking at your lap. Jake was one of the rare people you respected, and part of that was due to his company’s failure, like yours. He had built it back up to its former glory, but remained humble. You didn’t mind him. He was sweet.

“You seem bored.” he said, watching as you stared at the floor, clearly ambivalent toward what was happening around you.

“Astute observation.” you chuckled under your breath.

“I get it. These dinners can seem like a chore.” he said, picking up his wine glass by the stem. “Trust me, I’ve been going to them since I was six.”

“Lucky you.” you snickered. “Why do you even bother?” “Sunghoon always drags me here one way or another.” Your mood visibly dampened at the mention of his name, and you took a sip of your wine, hiding your mouth behind the lip of your glass. “How are things between you two?”

“If he dropped dead, I wouldn’t cry at his funeral.” you cleared your throat.

“But you wouldn’t cheer either?” Jake grinned, and you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever.”

“Baby steps.” he laughed, and you failed to suppress a smile. “I’m happy nonetheless. It’s nice to see you get along.” You wiped your nose again.

“That’s a stretch.” you scoffed. As if summoned to disprove you, the presence of Park Sunghoon suddenly entered your view, his hands tucked into his pockets. You couldn’t help but notice how nice he looked when his hair was pushed back.

“Mind if I borrow the lady for a moment?” he cleared his throat and Jake stood, flashing you a knowing look when Sunghoon wasn’t watching.

“Point taken.” you grumbled, as Jake snickered to himself, making himself busy on the other side of the room. After a moment of hesitation, Sunghoon took his seat.

“Hi.” he said slowly, and you nodded in acknowledgement. The energy was painfully awkward. “Um, I just wanted to say sorry about the other night. I haven’t really gotten a chance to contact you or anything, but I am sorry, and I should’ve called-”

“It’s fine.” you said tightly, shaking your head. “It happens.”

“Not to me.” he said defensively. “Look, I only apologize once in a blue moon, so just let it happen.” That elicited a chuckle from you.

“Alright. I accept your apology.” you said amusedly, and he let out a sigh of relief. You watched him blow a piece of hair out of his face, his lips parting for a moment to let out a breath. You averted your eyes when he caught you staring. He truly was beautiful.

Sunghoon’s thoughts were similar at the moment. While you avoided his gaze, he watched the way your eyelashes batted, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“I gotta go.” Sunghoon cleared his throat, and you nodded, eager for his exit. “Um. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Don’t sound so excited.” you said sardonically, and he rolled his eyes as he got up, giving you a dramatic bow as he walked away and towards another table. You watched him leave, eyes following his graceful figure and the way he smiled.

“You want to fuck him so bad.”

“Ew, Chae!” you yelped at the sudden interruption, waving off the smug girl leaning on your shoulder. “No way. Me and him? No, never. Don’t be silly.”

“Whatever you say.” she shrugged, taking his seat as she sipped on her third glass of red wine. “But the eyes don’t lie.” You glared up at her.

“I seriously hate you.”

☆☆☆

Three clinks of a wine glass, and your attention was at the front of the room. Sunghoon seemed to be giving a speech, and you brought your eyes to the stage. When you realized he was already looking at you, an unfamiliar feeling flooded your stomach. It felt something like dread.

“Welcome, everybody.” Sunghoon said, smiling warmly into the crowd, met with applause and good natured whoops. His father, however, was looking at him like he had just killed his cat, leading you to believe he wasn’t intended to make this speech.

And you were right. Sunghoon’s heart was pounding in his chest as he stared into the hordes, some faces familiar, some not.

“I’d like to thank you all for being here today.” Sunghoon said. “And I’d like to make a toast to the company and all of its potential. All it has accomplished, and all it will continue to accomplish.” The clinking of glasses resounded through the room as your frown deepened, your arms crossing over your chest. “And I would like to say, as the heir to the Park legacy, that I will try my hardest to steer this company towards kindness.” he said, with a fleeting glance towards you. “And so, cheers to the Park company. And cheers to ushering in a new era of ethical business.” The crowd, while mildly confused, burst into applause, their glasses rattling, champagne and wine alike spilling over the rims as people took celebratory gulps.

You shook your head, picking up the hem of your dress as you stood, walking to the exit with a smile on your face.

You sat on the steps outside the building, your knees pressed to your chest as you took a long drag of your cigarette. You told yourself you would quit, but something was itching at you that you couldn’t quite scratch, and nicotine seemed to do the trick momentarily. You were yearning for some peace.

“Flighty, aren’t you?” An amused voice said, the sound of light footsteps preceding it. You turned around, exhaling when you saw Sunghoon’s face towering over you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Nice speech.” you said, ignoring his comment.

“You mean that?”

“I do, actually.” Sunghoon chuckled, seating himself beside you with a grunt. “I didn’t say you could sit with me.”

“I don’t need your permission.” Sunghoon scoffed, folding his knees. You glared at him, but didn’t protest, taking another drag. “Put that out. I hate smoke.”

“I don’t need your permission.” you mocked him.

“Touche.” he said, resting his chin on his knees. “I suppose the both of us are equally headstrong.”

“Trust me, I’m more stubborn.” you laughed, ashing your cigarette and watching the sparks hit the floor. After a moment, you stubbed it out against the bottom of your shoe, rubbing the dark ash off with your thumb. Sunghoon noticed, but said nothing.

“I meant what I said in my speech, y’know. It wasn’t just to impress you.” you snorted at that. “I mean it! I do want to reform the company.”

“That’s admirable.” you nodded. “I’m glad to see my words had an effect.”

“Me too. See? I’ve only spent a couple days with you and I’m already becoming a better person.” Both of you went silent at his words, his eyes widening as he realized what he said. But he didn’t take it back, the two of you staring, searching through each other's eyes. You hesitated to say something, but there was no hesitation when he reached out for you, your lips colliding as he kissed you.

His hand ghosted across the back of your neck, resting at your nape, making the hairs rise. Your skin felt like it was on fire as he tilted his head, pulling you closer, one of his hands resting on your waist, his thumb rubbing over the fabric of your dress. After a breathless moment, you pulled away. Both of you stared at each other in silence, panting to regain your breath, hungry for more, but hesitating.

After a second, Sunghoon’s swollen lips split into a grin, and he began to laugh, leaning back on his hands as he snickered. You heaved out a sigh, but you couldn’t hold back the smile on your face.

“You are so fucking annoying.”

☆☆☆

You now had Park Sunghoon’s number. It had been three days since you kissed, and you hadn’t yet texted him. You wondered if he assumed you would.

But you didn’t have time to worry about that now. You had work to do.

“Jay, I need you to run a diagnostic on the hotel website and check for errors. And Chaewon, please call Mr. Choi, for the millionth time, and request some new cleaners. We need three dozen rooms cleaned before 10:0o pm.” you said, flipping through a checklist. You had been buzzing around your office drinking coffee and handling busy work since 4 am. It was sufficient to say that you were in business mode. “And both of you, be quick about it. I have a million more tasks to take care of.”

“Okay, Mom.” Jay rolled his eyes, getting out of his seat on the couch and you sent him a quick glare. “Since when have you taken anything seriously?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I have a business to run these days.” you said facetiously, and Jay placed an apologetic kiss on your cheek before running out of the door. “You too, Chae.” She shut her laptop, sending you a quick salute.

The minute the room was empty, you dropped onto your chair, letting your head loll backwards, closing your eyes. The minute you opened them, you were confronted with the enormous, cheesy grin of Park Sunghoon facing you from the billboard across the street. You huffed, getting to your feet and tugging down the blinds with a frown.

You could not get him out of your head.

As you sat in silence, stewing with rage at the fact that Sunghoon, of all people, was occupying your headspace, your landline rang, the little light flashing green as the phone vibrated. You picked it up with a sigh.

“Y/n speaking.”

“Why haven’t you called?” You froze, slamming the phone down and hanging up as quickly as your hands would move. That infuriating, smug voice, you’d recognize it anywhere. You stared at the phone blankly until it began to ring again, and after a moment of reluctance, you picked it up again. “What exactly is your problem?”

“How’d you get my number?” you said exhaustedly, spinning in your chair and getting tangled in the phone cord.

“I called your secretary.” you internally cursed Chaewon, letting out a deep breath through your nose. “I gave you my number so you’d text, you know.”

“I’m busy.”

“I’m busy too. I still found the time to call.”

“I wish you wouldn’t have.” you quipped. “What, you wanna see me?” You could hear him chuckle from the other end.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Vice prez told me you’ve been waiting on upper management’s approval for your budget. I’m here to take care of it.”

“Oh.” you replied embarrassedly, crossing your arms.

“Aw, don’t sound so disappointed, sweetheart.” he tutted. “We’re sending a representative over tonight to discuss business.”

“I’m assuming that’s you.” you said, and he hummed in response. “I look forward to it. And by the way, we aren’t close enough for pet names.” You hung up without allowing him time for a reply, taking a moment to collect yourself before you straightened your jacket and got back to work, a deep frown on your face.

Sunghoon, on the other end, was grinning like a fool.

☆☆☆

Three knocks resounded from your door, and you looked up from your laptop for the first time in hours, cracking your neck in the process. Rubbing the back of your neck, you called out into the empty room.

“Come in!” you said, and Chaewon’s head peeked through the door, her black bob swishing as she walked inside, her pink heels clicking against the floor.

“Park Sunghoon is here to see you.” she said, and you sighed, looking down once again. “He’s in the lobby. Says he’s getting impatient.”

“Let him in.” you waved her off, and she nodded. “Oh, and Chae? Give out my number one more time, and you’re so fired.” She grinned coyly, blowing you a kiss as she slipped through the door. You rolled your eyes. You were beginning to wonder if you had a single competent employee in your entire company.

It didn’t take long for Sunghoon to find your office. It felt like the air chilled when he walked through the door.

“Hey,” he said warmly in greeting, his hands tucked into his pockets. He looked incredibly handsome in his tailored gray suit. You slapped yourself on the forehead internally, shifting in your chair uncomfortably. You were acting like an idiot.

“Hi.” you said tightly, straightening a pile of papers. He dropped onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the table. “Make yourself at home.” you said sarcastically.

He grinned, “Let’s talk business, sweetheart.”

“Remember what I said about the pet names?” you reminded him, getting up from your desk and slipping into the chair across from him.

“Aw, c’mon. Loosen up,” he urged you, leaning forward in his seat. “Now, whaddya got for me?” You looked down at the stack of papers in your hand.

“Well, due to necessary improvements, budget has increased this year. We’re in the process of funding a new computer system, and we’ll definitely need more support if we want to expand the branch in Seongbuk-gu. So, I’d say we’re looking at a couple hundred thousand, minimum.” you explained, sorting through your files.

“Boring.” Sunghoon mimed a yawn, standing up and walking to the makeshift bar on your side panel, unscrewing a bottle of whiskey.

“Can you please take this seriously?” you asked exasperatedly.

“I am,” he said defensively, pouring a sizable glass of whiskey. “I’m more of a vodka guy myself. I’ll have someone go on a grocery run next week and get you stocked.”

“Sunghoon.” you deadpanned, and he rolled his eyes.

“Aw, c’mon y/n. Aren’t I supposed to be the uptight one, and you the free willed?”

“You seem free willed enough for the two of us.” you grumbled.

“Alright,” he said, moving to sit back down on the couch. “I have a confession to make.” You stared at him expectantly. “Management approved the budget. I sent off the form yesterday and it was done by 9:00 am this morning.” You raised a brow.

“So…”

“So I came here just to see you, yes.” You smirked, and he groaned in annoyance before you even had a chance to respond.

“I fucking knew it!” you laughed, and he took a sip of his drink. “Park Sunghoon, you are a player.”

“Whatever.” he sassed, standing back up to refill his glass. “Promise to call me next time, and I won’t have to make any surprise visits.”

“I can’t make any promises.” you grinned. “But you can make me a drink.” He looked at you for a moment before chuckling, pouring a second glass of whiskey with a splash of sweet vermouth and bitters for a makeshift Manhattan.

“There’s no cherry, but I did my best.” he said, handing it to you.

“You remembered.” you said warmly, and he nodded. You took a sip. It was a bit too sweet for your taste, but you didn’t mind. You were smiling so brightly, he was itching with the urge to kiss your cheek, so he did. Your smile fell as you rubbed your cheek, Sunghoon avoiding eye contact with you as he sat back down.

You sat across from each other in momentary silence. The window was open, and the night air brushed against your cheeks. Sunghoon’s nose was pink from the cold.

“Do you like me, Sunghoon?” you asked, breaking the silence. He stared.

“Whoah,” he chuckled nervously, slender fingers toying with the rim of his cup. “You get straight to the point, huh?” You didn’t respond. “Let’s not talk about it.” You thought for a minute, before nodding, folding your knees and resting your chin on them.

“I’m okay with that.”

☆☆☆

Surprisingly enough, your friendship with Park Sunghoon was persistent if nothing else. In front of the press you still acted like enemies—you both agreed it was better for your respective companies if nobody knew you had become unlikely companions. But behind closed doors, you would smile when you saw him entering a room, and he would call you on a late night after a hard day of work.

Tonight was one of those nights.

You tore your eyes away from your phone lighting up the black night, ringing on the table. You and Jay were sitting on the fire escape of your apartment complex, passing a lit cigarette back and forth and watching the smoke disappear into the evening sky. You could see all of Seoul from the penthouse.

“You gonna answer that?” Jay asked smugly, taking a long drag as he watched you stare at your phone in conflict. You turned it over.

“Nope.” you said, reaching for the cigarette and taking a drag until you felt lightheaded. “I don’t have time for him tonight.”

“You seem to be spending a lot of time together lately.” Jay replied, and you glared at him. “Hey, I’m not poking fun. I’m genuinely curious.” You turned away, staring at the glimmering skyline. “You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”

“No.” you brought the cig to your lips again. “No, I haven’t.”

“Then what is it?” “...I don’t know.” you admitted. Watching the cigarette burn into ashes in your unmoving hand, Jay began to light his own. “I used to hate him so much, Jay. And now, he’s something completely different than what I thought. He’s a good person.” you turned to look at the boy sitting beside you.

“I know,” he affirmed. “I know.”

“So,” you said, remembering your cigarette and ashing it on the railing, watching the gray ash fall to the ground several stories below. “What now?” Jay took a drag.

“I think that’s for you to decide, y/n. I think you’ve earned the right to let go.” His words touched you. Had you finally worked hard enough to look past those who had wronged you? You had achieved everything you dreamed of, and more.

Were you finally more than your own vengeance?

You didn’t respond, only grabbing your phone and wrapping your jacket a little tighter around your body to protect yourself from the cold breeze.

“I think I’m gonna call him.” you announced, and Jay chuckled.

“I had a feeling,” he said, stretching. “I’m gonna head home. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.” you said, watching as Jay walked out the door, giving you a little salute before shutting it behind him. You sighed, staring at your phone.

3 Missed Calls From Park Sunghoon.

You hesitated for a moment before pressing the call button, letting your phone rest on your lap as it rang. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” his muffled voice said through the phone.

“Hey.” you responded.

“I’m outside.” Your eyes widened, and you immediately ran to the edge of the fire escape, peering down to the entrance of your apartment building. Surely enough, there he was, his back resting against the wall, polished shoes tapping against the concrete.

“How long have you been waiting for?” you called, and he looked up, his face barely a speck from so high up.

“Not long.” he responded.

“How’d you know I’d answer?” you could barely make out his grin in the dark.

“You always do.” you rolled your eyes, retreating inside and tugging on a pair of flats. You took the elevator down, and when you entered the lobby, Sunghoon’s solemn face was the first thing you saw. His nose and cheeks were tinted red from the cold, and his hair was messy from the wind. You smiled, tucking your hands into your pockets.

“You wanna come upstairs?” you asked. “I’ll make tea.”

“Tea sounds nice.” he said quietly, smiling as he followed you to the elevator.

This was the first time Sunghoon had seen your apartment, and he was fascinated to say the least. As you fussed over the boiling water and choosing the right tea, he toyed with the perfumes on your coffee table, running his hands along your brown leather couch and smelling the fresh flowers you kept in glass vases. He was enchanted by this little space you had created for yourself. His apartment was just a bachelor pad, filled with expensive furniture and lacking life.

“I like your apartment.” he said, staring at a print of Marilyn Monroe that you kept on your wall. “It’s stylish.”

“Thanks. You want jasmine or oolong?”

“Jasmine, please. And bring a shot of vodka with it.” You snorted, pulling out two tea bags and pouring two shots, bringing them to the coffee table.

“So, what brings you to my side of the city?” you asked.

“I had a hard day.” Sunghoon knocked back the shot of vodka, wiping his lips. “Thanks. I needed that.”

“You’re welcome.” you said, throwing back your shot and setting the small glass cup on the table. You didn’t want to think of the implications of Sunghoon coming over in the middle of the night without any warning. It made your head hurt.

“I’m finding that, as of late,” Sunghoon began. “That you have a somewhat calming presence in my life.” You froze. “Lately I’ve been under a lot of stress, with remodeling the company and everything. My father’s been giving me hell about my new policies. I don’t think he likes my idea of ‘ethical new business’.” He let out a large exhale. “At the end of the day, you’re really the only one who understands me.” He smiled bittersweetly. “And, well, I’m grateful for your company lately. Spending time with you has been the only thing keeping me sane. It’s hard to imagine that we ever hated each other.”

You couldn’t think of a single thing to say. You felt like your heart was rising in your throat, and you cleared it, attempting to collect yourself. Sunghoon chuckled, looking at the floor with red cheeks.

“Is it cool that I said all that?” he said after a moment of silence. “Cause I know that it’s delicate.”

“Y’know, I used to hate you more than anyone in the world.” you laughed gently. “But I agree with you. These days, you’re the only thing keeping me sane.” Sunghoon gazed at you, but you were looking into your cup of tea. “And yeah, it’s delicate. But I don’t really care what anyone thinks but you.” You met his eyes. Those damn dark eyes. Swimming with emotion. And they were trained quite blatantly on your lips.

Before you could register it, he was reaching for your face, his rough palm caressing the soft skin of your cheek, pulling you into his embrace as he kissed you gently, his other hand on your waist.

You had kissed before, but nothing had felt as intimate as the moment you were sharing now. Those past kisses had been a fleeting moment, an impulse decision, but now Sunghoon was kissing you like you were the only thing in the universe, like you were all that mattered. His grip on your waist was bruising, as though he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. You felt drunk on love and vodka, shifting yourself onto his lap as you tangled your hands in his hair. You were both breathless, hearts racing as you held each other tightly, losing yourselves in the taste of each other’s lips.

Sunghoon pulled away, his lips splitting into a smug smile as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, your lips red and swollen as you attempted to catch your breath.

“Remember when you asked if I liked you?” he asked, hands trailing over your bare thighs, eyes trained on the way your eyes twinkled under the dim lighting and the thin tank top you were wearing underneath your jacket. “Well, I think I have my answer now.” you licked your lips, before grinning.

“You’re an asshole, Sunghoon.”

“Then I’m really lucky you like me.”

☆☆☆

You woke up to two things; Sunghoon’s face, and the sound of yelling.

His eyes were closed, his full lips slightly parted as he let out gentle snores, his dark hair sticking up. As much as you wanted to admire the way the morning light hit his skin, you stood up and walked to your balcony, peeking outside.

You yelped, slamming your glass doors shut as you ran inside, pulling on a pair of sweats, simultaneously shaking Sunghoon awake.

“Sunghoon, get up. The paparazzi are here.” you said frantically, attempting to retrieve a shirt from your closet when a pair of strong arms pulled you back into bed.

“Five more minutes.” he groaned from under the covers, and you fought back a smile, attempting to pry his grip off of you. His hands made their way to the straps of your bra, pulling and letting it snap back onto your skin. “Lace, huh? I didn’t notice.”

“I’m not kidding, get up.” you said, pushing him off of you and running to your closet to grab the top half of your tracksuit, pulling it over your head.

“What’s the rush?” he said, finally sitting up, ears perking when he heard the loud voices coming from outside. Peering out the window, his eyes widening.

“Oh shit,” he cursed, getting to his feet and hurriedly pulling on his shirt. “How’d they find us?” You shook your head, biting your lip as you thought about what to do.

“Not sure, but we should try to preserve our image.” you grabbed a snapback from your nightstand, putting it on his head to cover his face. “You go out the back, I’ll curse them out and keep ‘em distracted.”

“What happened to preserving your image?” he snorted, buckling his belt.

“Well, my reputation’s never been worse.” you said, tapping him on the nose. “So you must like me for me.” He smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Mm, I do.” he said, before tugging on his shoes. He blew you a kiss before running out your front door, shutting it behind him, making sure it didn’t slam. You watched him leave, your fingers tracing where he had kissed you, and you smiled for a moment before collecting yourself.

“Hey!” you yelled, stomping towards the paparazzi stationed outside the lobby of your apartment. They immediately whirled in your direction, cameras flashing as they all fought to get their questions out. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Ms. Y/l/n!” a reporter yelled. “Are you aware of the rising scandal between you and Park Sunghoon?” You scrunched up your nose.

“Park Sunghoon?” you repeated in disgust.

“Sunghoon was reported to have arrived at your home at midnight last night! Do you have anything to say to these accusations?”

“Do I have anything to say?” you scoffed. “You must be mistaken. Park Sunghoon is a pig, just like the rest of his family. I hope the media understands that I do not, and never will, have anything to do with a pompous asshole like him.” The paparazzi erupted into questions and flashing cameras, but you turned on your heel and sashayed back inside, waving them off as the sliding doors closed behind you, drowning out the noise.

On your face you wore a grimace.

☆☆☆

A newspaper slammed onto Sunghoon’s desk, his drowsy eyes snapping open at the sound. “‘Park Sunghoon is a pig, just like the rest of his family!’ States Queen Corporation’s CEO After Being Accused of an Illicit Affair with the Park Company’s Son”, stated the title. Sunghoon smiled momentarily, but his amused expression dropped when he saw the furious face of his father towering over him.

“Would you like to explain this?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm. Sunghoon was smart enough to know that meant he was enraged.

“Um, is there anything to explain?” Sunghoon said timidly. “She said it herself, we’re not involved.” Sunghoon’s father rubbed his temples.

“Well, obviously, Sunghoon. I’d hope you’re smart enough to not get involved with the one woman who could ruin our company.” Sunghoon winced internally. “We must do something about this issue. Y/n is the only threat to our company.”

“Surely she’ll leave us alone if we don’t encroach upon her business.” he attempted to reason, but his father looked at him as though he had gone insane.

“Absolutely not. We’ll have to speed up your engagement to Huh Yunjin.” Sunghoon leapt out of his seat.

“Father, you can’t be serious!” he said in disbelief.

“I won’t hear any complaints. The Huhs own the largest company in Korea, second to ourselves, and we can’t afford to make an enemy out of them. Merging our companies will give us total dominion over the business world.” his father said with finality. “Not to mention their only heir is a woman. We’ll control their company through you.” Sunghoon bit his lip.

“But I don’t want to marry her.” His father shook his head.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

☆☆☆

A newspaper slammed onto your desk.

“Park Sunghoon, a pig? A likely story.” Jay snorted, slipping into the seat across from you. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, picking up the newspaper. “Late night, huh? So it must be true.”

“Shut up.” you said, but you couldn’t hold back the smile on your face. “Guess I went a little overboard, but it makes for a good story.” Jay raised his brows at you, taking a sip of his coffee. “Will you stop looking at me like that?”

“I think you’ve got a little crush.” He said in a sing-song voice. You snorted.

“I’m a grown woman, Jay. Us hooking up doesn’t mean I have feelings for him.” Jay shrugged.

“Say whatever you want, but it’s obvious that you like Park Sunghoon. There’s no denying it.” You were about to respond when your phone rang, and you shooed Jay out of your office as he mimed kissing childishly.

“Hello?” you asked, and a familiar voice responded.

“A pig, huh? A pompous asshole?” Sunghoon spoke smugly.

“I did what I had to do.” you shrugged, spinning in your office chair.

“Mm, sure.” he said, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he jotted down notes. “Well, Ms. Y/l/n, I’m calling to let you know that the Parks are throwing a very exclusive fundraising gala tomorrow, and there’s an empty seat for a certain CEO if she’s so inclined.” you snorted.

“Oh, really? And would your family like to see me there?” “A little trouble would do them some good. Plus, I want to see you.” You blushed on the other side of the phone, covering your mouth with your hand. “And I’ve booked a private reservation for two at the shittiest bar on the East side,” he joked. “So?”

You thought for a moment. After your recent statement in the news, walking into a Park gala would be like walking into a den of tigers. But since when had you been afraid of stirring the corporate pot?

“I’ll be there.” you promised, and Sunghoon grinned, tucking a pen between his lips. “I should look for a dress.”

“I’ll have it taken care of.” He twirled his pen. “Just wait for my call.”

“See you tomorrow then.” you grinned.

“See you tomorrow, m’lady.”

☆☆☆

It was three hours and counting until the Parks’ big gala. You stared at the wall ahead of you while Chaewon tried on countless lavish dresses and Jay sorted through piles of patterned ties. Sunghoon had assured you that you could bring your closest friends, but you weren’t certain that his family would appreciate your troupe of misanthropes intruding upon their event.

“Cheetah print, or zebra print?” Chaewon asked you, holding two dresses against her body. You shook your head, biting the nail of your thumb.

“Neither. Pick something nice, Chae.”

“This is nice.” she protested, but put the dresses down and continued to look around. Jay noticed the way you stared vacantly ahead, stressfully chewing your nails, and he set down his ties, scooching in closer.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked cautiously. “Nervous?”

“I couldn’t care less what those people think about me.” you said, and Jay chuckled at your classic behavior.

“Okay, so. What’s wrong?” His eyes held concern as he rubbed his thumb along your arm, and you sighed heavily.

“I do care what he thinks. And that’s the problem.” Jay let out a quiet sound of understanding. “I don’t understand. Why do I even care about him? The only thing on my mind for the past six years has been destroying that family.”

“Y/n,” he began. “You don’t have to punish yourself for forgiving someone.” You stopped biting your nails. “Especially someone with no fault in the situation.”

“But he’s one of them.” you mumbled.

“Does he seem like a good person?” Jay asked. Your eyes made contact for a moment, before you nodded and quickly looked away. “Then that’s all that matters.” You considered his words for a moment, before sighing, folding your hands.

“You’re right, you’re right. Thanks Jay.”

“I’m always gonna be here for you. Try not to worry.” He patted you lightly on the back as he stood, and you gave him a tight smile. Your eyes were drawn to your bed, snug in the corner of your apartment, a large bag lying on top. Fabric peeked out from beneath the top, a shining sapphire blue. You held your head in your hands.

Trying not to worry was proving to be impossible.

On the other side of the city, Sunghoon was tightening his tie.

“You finally learned how to tie a tie.” Jake snorted, but Sunghoon didn’t laugh. He was staring vacantly out the window and into the horizon, zoned out on the skyline. “Hello? Earth to Sunghoon?”

“What?” Sunghoon snapped out of his trance, whipping around.

“Something on your mind?” Jake tucked his hands into the pockets of his ironed blazer. They were both dressed in their nicest suits in preparation for the night’s events. Sunghoon shook his head.

“I can’t stop thinking about her.” Sunghoon admitted, and Jake grew serious. “This whole time, I feel like I’ve been looking for something deeper than just being the heir to this bullshit company. When I’m with her…I feel like I found something real.” “Sunghoon,” Jake said tenderly. “As of a couple days ago, you’re engaged.” Sunghoon sighed. “You can’t do that to y/n.”

“I don’t want to get married.” Sunghoon said, his voice breaking, which he quickly covered up with a cough. “I don’t want to marry Yunjin, and she definitely doesn’t want to marry me.”

“As sad as it is, you don’t have a choice.” Jake said sympathetically. “I know you’re upset. But just try to keep it together for tonight.”

“Yeah, got it.” Sunghoon scoffed, fidgeting, adjusting his cufflinks. “After 21 years, I’ve become accustomed to putting away my emotions for my father’s benefit.” Jake watched sadly as his best friend adjusted his jacket, shaking his head before exiting his room and striding downstairs to where the gala was taking place.

☆☆☆

Your eyes scanned the luxurious room, full of familiar but unwelcoming faces. Chandeliers were draped from ceilings twenty feet high, crystals glimmering in the golden glow, sending fractals of light spiraling around the room. You were receiving dirty looks from every corner of the ballroom, judgemental whispers echoing. You tried your best to tune it out. Jay stood behind you, glaring back tenfold at every disapproving partygoer, Chaewon oblivious to it all as she enjoyed the decadence.

You needed to find Sunghoon or you would lose your mind.

His face shone from the other side of the room, and when your eyes connected it was like the rest of the world fell away. His warm, brown eyes captivated you as he quickly left whatever conversation he was a part of, weaving through the crowd to get to you. He was breathless by the time he made it through the sea of people.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” you responded unsteadily, looking over your shoulder to see his father watching you with a fierce glare. “Sunghoon, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Since when have you cared what everyone else thinks?” he said with a bittersweet grin, and you chuckled, some of the tension relieved. “C’mon, I’ll show you the dance floor.” He tugged on your hand, whisking you away. You attempted to hide your face as you left with him.

Jake watched you leave, sipping gin from a crystal glass. Jay approached his side, picking up a bottle and emptying its contents into the largest glass he could find.

“They’re so fucked.” Jake said without thinking.

“I don’t know,” Jay said, taking a swig. “They seem like they really love each other. Who says love doesn’t conquer all?” “The business world.” Jake chuckled, looking at his reflection in the bottom of his glass. “I just hope he lets her down easy.”

“What do you mean?” When Jake looked up, Jay was staring at him inquisitively, brows furrowed. Jake’s face dropped, his heart in his throat.

“He hasn’t told her yet?” Jake asked hesitantly. Jay’s grip on his drink tightened. The two men stared at each other in silence, the tension palpable.

“...Told her what?”

☆☆☆

Sunghoon closed the towering, intricate wooden doors behind you as you entered the ballroom. Ceilings made of mirrors caused the light to bounce around the room like stars, and you watched, breathless. The smooth floor was slick under your stiletto heels.

“It’s beautiful.” you said, and Sunghoon watched you with a smile.

“A dance, m’lady?” he asked, offering his gloved hand to you. You took it with a grin, and he pulled you into his arms.

The two of you swayed, rocking back and forth in each other’s arms as he attempted to guide you in a waltz. You were uncoordinated, and you both giggled as you tripped over your feet. His thumb rubbed across your hand as he counted out the steps for you. There was no music playing, but you could both feel the rhythm in your head, like a grand orchestra was conducting a song just for you.

When you were alone, your head was suddenly clear. The stress from earlier melted away as he gazed into your eyes, and you rested your head on his shoulder, the two of you twirling as he hummed a song under his breath.

“You’re improving,” he joked. He was right, you were no longer tripping and stumbling. You had gained a sense of the rhythm, following his lead gracefully. He extended his hand, prompting you to spin, and you did.

“I have a good teacher.” you laughed, watching your gown twirl. The dress that Sunghoon had bought you was beautiful, trailing against the ground, the crystal detailing lighting up underneath the dappled golden light. Only then did you notice the sapphire shade of his tie, and how it perfectly matched your dress. “Let’s hope the press doesn’t get wind of our fashion faux pas.” you joked, gesturing to your matching attire.

“To be honest, I don’t really care.” he said, and his honesty made you gulp.

This was all too real for you. Your feelings for him were ripping you from the inside out, and you felt too nervous to speak. The feeling in your stomach was more akin to wasps than butterflies.

“Y/n.” he said seriously. “You know how I feel about you, don’t you?” He was overcome with guilt. He really didn’t want to do this to you, not now, not when he knew he’d have to break the news soon. It was too soon. His time with you was too short lived, he couldn’t let it go. Not when you were the only person who made him feel complete, the only person who made life feel like it was worth continuing.

“No, I don’t.” you grinned, baiting him to say the words himself, and he chuckled. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

“Maybe it’s easier without words.” he said, unclasping his hand from yours so he could trace his fingers along your cheek.

He dipped his head to kiss you, and your hands were tangled in his hair as he held you tightly. There was something desperate about the way he kissed you, holding you like you might slip through his fingers if he loosened his grip. The two of you kissed fervently, full of convolution and mixed emotions. He pulled away from you for a moment, but only for long enough to whisper,

“I love you.” You pulled away from him, his gaze intense. You always had a weakness for his eyes. It felt like they held galaxies. The weight of his words sunk upon you, and you opened your mouth to speak.

“I love you too.” you whispered.

☆☆☆

You and Sunghoon had parted ways after your illicit meeting, him fleeing to the front of the room to discuss with his father, you hesitantly retreating to your table. Chaewon was sipping vodka; Jay was nowhere to be seen.

“Everything okay?” she asked immediately, setting down her cup.

“I’m okay.” you assured her, your lips splitting into a bright smile despite your distressed exterior, and she let out a breath of relief, wrapping an arm around the back of your chair when you sat. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“Same.” she agreed, taking another swig of her drink. “Though I bet your reason is different than mine.” She sent you a wink, to which you shook your head amusedly.

Your eyes were drawn to Sunghoon, standing onstage with his father. He seemed nervous, and you wanted nothing more than to be standing beside him, but you knew you couldn’t. Not in public, and you were wondering if you two would go public one day.

You would do it the moment he asked, no hesitation. And that scared you.

You picked up a glass sitting on the table that you assumed was Jay’s, taking a large swig. It burned your throat, and you put it down with a wince. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a tall and elegant woman standing on stage, honey colored hair curling gracefully on her shoulders. Her floor length golden gown sparkled in the light.

“Welcome, valued guests.” a loud voice and feedback from the microphone snapped you back into reality, and your attention was drawn to the stage, where Sunghoon’s father was speaking with a cheesy, large grin. “Thank you all for attending our fundraising gala, graciously hosted by the Parks. We appreciate all of your generous donations.” he cleared his throat. “And on behalf of my lovely son, we have some news.” You began listening, setting down your cup.

“We are delighted to announce our own Sunghoon’s engagement.”

Your face paled. You felt like the world was crashing down around you, everything muffled. You could vaguely sense that Chaewon was talking to you, but you couldn’t process it. You felt like you were going to throw up.

“Sunghoon and Huh Yunjin of the Huh Company are set to wed in three months, and our companies will officially be merging.” Flashing cameras went off like grenades, the sound filling the room as the woman smiled for the camera, holding onto the arm of the man who told you he loved you. Despite the camera demanding his attention, his eyes were on you. And those beautiful eyes that you loved, they were devoid of feeling.

He stared at you, pale as a ghost, lips parted in silent surprise. The cameras snapped photos of him as he barely breathed, lost in the injured gaze of the woman who loved him. And you stood, striding towards the exit before you could even register what you were doing, ignoring the curious stares you were receiving. All you could see was the exit, the door that would lead you out of here.

The sound of cameras flashing and the hum of gossip silenced as you walked into the night, taking a deep and ragged breath. Tears spilled from your eyes before you could help it, and you swiped your palms over your face, smudging your makeup, sobbing unsteadily.

As Sunghoon watched you stand, he pulled himself away from the tight grip of Yunjin on his arm, eyes trained on your disappearing figure as panic rushed through his head. His father turned back towards him.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, urgently, as Sunghoon pushed through the crowds of paparazzi, jumping off the stage and running towards the exit. He burst through the doors, chasing you until he found your weeping figure running away.

“Y/n!” He chased after you. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, so you didn’t try. You just shook your head, turning away from him.

“Fuck off.” you replied harshly, and he grabbed your wrist.

“Please, I’m sorry, let me explain.” he begged.

“Explain?” you snapped. “Sunghoon, you’re engaged. There’s nothing to explain.”

“I don’t want to marry her.” he said desperately. “I never have, and I never will.”

“You told me you loved me,” you sobbed, wiping your eyes with your free hand, and Sunghoon’s eyes burned with tears and the cold wind.

“I do,” he said gently. “I love you more than anything.”

“Then why?” you said. “Why are you getting married?” “...I don’t have a choice. It’s for the company.” he said reluctantly, and you shook your eyes, pulling your wrist out of his grip and wiping your eyes for the last time.

“I can’t believe I thought you were different.” you laughed incredulously. “I thought you were different, but it turns out you’re exactly like your family.”

“Y/n, don’t say that.” he pleaded. “I’m not like them.”

“Yet you do what they say, slaving away for a company that does nothing but hurt people?” He went silent. “I should’ve known from the start that you would hurt me. God, I can’t believe I thought you really cared about me.” “I do.” he insisted, reaching for your hands, but you pulled away. “I care about you, I care about us-”

“There is no ‘us’, Sunghoon!” you yelled. “There never has been! Because you always knew that at the end, you’d leave me the minute someone told you to.”

“That’s not true, y/n.” he shouted. “Everything we went through, that meant something to me. I meant everything I said, I’d do anything for you! I’d leave the company if you asked me to!” You scoffed.

“You wouldn’t do that for anyone, Sunghoon. You’re too much of a coward.” He didn’t respond, his hands hanging weakly at his sides. He felt numb.

A black car roared to life, approaching from the parking lot. The windows rolled down, and you were comforted to see Jay’s stony face in the driver's seat, Chaewon watching you from the back seat with concern. He nodded to the passenger side.

“Get in.” he said, requiring no explanation. He already knew.

You ran for the car, and Sunghoon came after you. You had one hand on the handle when he caught your wrist in his fingers.

“Please,” he begged, his voice a whisper in the night as his eyes pleaded with you. “Please, don’t leave.” You almost yielded, but instead you removed your hand from his, opening the door and sliding into your seat.

“Go.” you said quietly to Jay, and he accelerated, speeding out of the lot. His hand rested on top of yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. You silenced your tears, chin resting on your palm and staring out the window into the city to ignore how much your heart was aching.

☆☆☆

It had been four days since Park Sunghoon told you he was getting married to another woman. It had been three days since you called out of work sick, and two days since you blocked his number after countless missed calls. It had been only one day since you stopped crying yourself to sleep.

You weren’t used to being vulnerable. Since your father ruined both his career and your own, you were used to building up walls around yourself. You were filled with bitter irony that the person who tore those walls down was part of the family that hurt you so badly in the first place.

You felt like an absolute idiot, to say the least.

You flipped through a magazine, your hair up as you lounged in a salon chair. You had just gotten your nails done, and you tried not to smudge the gel as you flipped through pages of jewelry ads and gossip articles. When you stumbled across a promotion for cologne, Sunghoon’s handsome, smiling face decorating the page, you shut it with a sigh.

“Do you have any other magazines?” you asked the woman who came to do your hair, sharp nails gripping at the edges.

You strode down the bustling streets of Seoul, your fur coat clenched tightly around your body, a designer purse held in your free hand. You got plenty of stares as you walked down the street, some admiring, some judgemental. But you had learned not to care. You sighed, your warm breath fogging up the cold daylight, before dissipating.

The sound of screeching static froze you in place, and you turned to look at the towering screens lined up in the window of a store, all glitching. You stopped for a moment, waiting until they regained their sense, switching to a news channel.

An anchorwoman with a bad blowout and a gaudy diamond necklace was pointing very seriously at an image behind her, her other hand wrapped around a stack of papers as she read off a script.

“The business world- is sh-shocked,” she began, her voice skipping as the tvs froze and unfroze in sync. “At the alleged emancipation of Park Sunghoon from his family’s very successful enterprise. Mr. Park made a public statement this morning, claiming that he ‘would not continue to entertain unethical practices, and could not condon the idea of marrying purely for business’. Rumors are, according to inside sources from corporate high society, that he left his company for love.”

You stared quietly at the tv. A million thoughts were rushing through your head, but the majority of them were this;

You needed to find Sunghoon.

☆☆☆

The door to his apartment creaked open, Sunghoon peeking out from behind. His hair was matted to his forehead, sticking up in places, and his typical nice clothing was replaced by a white t-shirt and a pair of baggy sweats. He looked like hell, but it didn’t matter; he looked the most beautiful you’d ever seen him.

“You’re not a coward.” Was the first thing you said when he opened the door.

“I am,” he replied.

“You’re not, and I didn’t mean that. I was scared.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” he said, shaking his head. “It was all my fault. I fucked up, and I lose the only person I care about in this world because of it.” You stood up a little straighter, clenching your fists.

“At the end of the day, you’re really the only one who understands me.” you said firmly, and he smiled, recognizing his own words. “Sunghoon, I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And that’s why I was so afraid of you hurting me.”

“I wish I could take it all back.” Sunghoon said, his hand tracing your cheek, too afraid to make contact. “I wasted so much of my life being complacent. You were the one that taught me to be brave.” You nodded, eyes watery. “I’m sorry that I made you mad.”

“I’m not mad.” you said very unconvincingly, and both of you laughed.

You wiped your eyes furiously, hands trembling.

“I really do love you, Sunghoon.” you said shakily, and he pulled you into his arms. You melted into his warm embrace, his arms circling your waist, holding you tight. Your touch felt so familiar, and for the first time since you left him, he felt whole again, basking in the glory of your presence. He couldn’t help but kiss you, his finger under your chin as he lifted your face to his, pressing his lips against yours eagerly.

You had forgotten all the things you adored about kissing Sunghoon. The way his hands always held you so tightly, how he always tasted like honey chapstick, and the way he smiled against your lips when you lost your hands in his hair. You were both sick with love, and you were only just beginning to realize that you didn’t need a cure.

“I love you.” he mumbled between kisses, unable to pull away. “I loved you from the start, even when everyone told me not to. Nothing could, and nothing can, stop the way I feel about you.”

“I love you, Sunghoon,” you said, your tears wetting both your face and his. “And I hate you for even considering otherwise.” he chuckled, tapping your nose with his index finger.

“Well, my reputation’s never been worse,” you giggled at your own words being used against you, as he spun you around in his arms. “So you must like me for me.” You pressed a chaste kiss onto his lips with a glowing smile.

“Mm, you’re lucky that I do.”

☆☆☆

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loveindefinitely · 1 year ago

Text

༊*·˚ NEED TO LISTEN TO ME — price is disappointed in you and your other three lovers, and finds that some 'training' is in order

read on ao3.

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, poly tf141, ANGRY sex, mean dom price, angst, degradation, minor dom/sub, light humiliation, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, minor spit play, minor blood play (not really), rough sex, price orders EVERYONE around, price-centred, whiny johnny and gaz agenda

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

You weren't scared of many things at this point in your life.

Being a signal officer for the military certainly aided that statement, but it was more the fact that you had four guard dogs in the form of the most seasoned special forces operatives you've ever known. Four very large, very scary men that you'd somehow found yourself lucky enough to get to call your partners.

Both on, and off, the field.

That being said, there was one thing you were terrified of. Like, to your bones, petrified.

And that thing had a name.

John Price.

He was formally the captain of your force for a reason, but he was also informally the captain of your relationship, as well. The one you all looked to in the most difficult of moments, the one that held reason and guidance above all.

It's been that way since the five of you met, and remains the same to this day.

Nonetheless.

It was a known fact between you, Soap, Ghost and Gaz that none of you liked seeing the man mad. You four could count on one hand the amount of times you'd witnessed it, all of which having been directed at either his superiors or an enemy.

But. Right now, in this office, seated on the small couch between your three lovers?

Yeah. You don't fear many things.

But John Price's disappointment is quite easily in your top three, and this situation only cements it.

"He's probably ordering our caskets," Gaz murmurs wistfully, eyes wide as he stares at his foot, tap-tap-tapping against the wooden floor. It's a nervous tic that gives him away too easily, but even with your hand on his knee, it doesn't seem able to quit.

You exhale a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. "I hope he gets me a cute one," you mumble back, tone matching the resignation that clouds your captain's office.

"You four. My office."

Those were the only words Price had spoken to you guys, before marching off to a meeting with Laswell.

To say that you and your lovers were mortified was the biggest understatement of the century.

Even Ghost, sat perfectly still, expression perfectly neutral beneath his mask, oozes trepidation like it's the carbon dioxide he exudes with every breath.

"I know 'm 'n tha military, but I still don't wanna die, ya know?" Soap whines, his head flung back and blue eyes glued to the roof as his hands shake in his lap.

You guys must look like unruly students sat outside of your principal's office to any onlookers, and it should be embarrassing.

It would be, if you could feel anything but mortal peril.

You're about to quip a reply to Soap, when the door clicks open, and the three of you sit ramrod straight, Ghost not moving from his already perfect posture.

Price steps in, the door shutting closed behind him.

The silence is a tangible force, and your mouth is so dry, you'd think you were in a desert, not in your lover's office.

His footfalls echo around the modest space, before he leans against his wooden desk, folding his arms over his chest, before directing his furious gaze to you four.

"When I give orders," he starts, and oh god, his tone, it's so unbelievably firm, "I expect my team to follow them."

There's no response, except for the overwhelming quiet coming from the usually passionate and comforting presence that underlies your entire dynamic.

Price clears his throat, meeting all of your eyes one by one. You wonder if you can see the glassiness of yours, the barely restrained tears.

"So why," he begins, before swallowing once more, determination settling in, "Did all four of my teammates rush into an unstable building after being ordered to keep out?"

You know it's not just the anger of a captain's orders being refused.

It's the anger of a lover having to watch all four of his partner's risk their death, while he can do nothing but watch from the scope of a sniper rifle.

The clock on the wall above the door ticks, and none of you make a sound.

Price grabs a pack of cigars from his pocket, quickly sliding one out, placing it between his lips, and shoving the pack back into his slacks. He then pulls out a lighter from his back pocket, lighting the tobacco, before exhaling his first breath of smoke.

In any other situation, you or Gaz would be chastising him, telling him to stop smoking, or to at least do it outside.

Neither of you say a word.

Rubbing at the furrow between his brows, Price then drifts his eyes to Ghost, the only one who hasn't said a word since the mission.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Price says on a deep exhale, shaking his head. There's hurt there, genuine pain, and your heart stutters in your chest at the sight. "You're my lieutenant, Simon. I thought you'd at least 'ave the brains to listen to me when I make an order."

Ghost's hand tightens where it sit on his cargos, and even with his mask on, you can tell that a disgruntled frown lays beneath it.

"And you, Soap," he looks at the man to your right, now, and you can physically see him deflate at the disappointment in his captain's eyes. "Disrespecting authority is cute 'nd all, until it's me, mate."

Those words feel like a physical wound, even to you, and judging my Soap's crestfallen expression, for him, it must hurt tenfold.

And, then, it's your turn.

His mouth is set in a grim line, and you hope that he can see the regret, the genuine sorrow you feel at disappointing and -- and scaring your captain. Your lover.

"What were you thinking?" He asks, and your mouth wants to open, but it's as if there's an invisible force pinning it shut. "You weren't even supposed to step foot on enemy grounds, and you knew that."

And it's true. Your role is mainly with communications and technical supplies, not actual combat. You were trained, yes, but it has never been your role.

But you'd seen Soap rush in, Ghost trailing after him, yelling, and then Gaz not long after, and it was like your mind shut out any rational lines of thinking. There was no rationale when it came to your partners.

That was a flaw. A genuine character fault, and Price was cementing that fact in this very room.

"Kyle," Price runs his hand down his face, cigar in between his middle and index fingers, "Kyle."

The pain, regret, the melancholy -- it's its own element in this room, its own being, and it feels as if it's choking you from the inside out. Like a gas leak, or a grenade stuck in your throat, about to go off.

Ghost, shockingly, is the first to speak.

"Captain," he grits out. Not 'old man'. Not 'love'.

Captain.

"We're aware of our... misgivings," he states, the words coming off of his tongue like hot coals he needs to rid off, lest his entire mouth burns.

Price nods, slowly, eyes narrowing at Ghost. It hits you, then, how your lover's just dug all of your graves in one sentence. Gaz seems to realise, too, his eyes going wide, exhaling a low, short breath in surprise.

"Sweetheart," he quips, standing up in the transition of one moment to the next, eyes snapping to your glassy ones. The endearment holds no warmth to it, for the first time, and your heart shatters where it beats in your chest, shards of glass embedding into the muscle surround it. "Get on the desk."

He says the words, and in the next movement, sweeps his arm over his desk, causing all of his papers, his pens, his folders, to go careening to the floor.

Soap mutters a curse under his breath, and Gaz winces.

On shaky legs, you stand, walking the short distance to the wooden surface and sitting on it with short pants of breath.

His large hand grips your chin in a tight grasp, tilting your head back and forcing the eye contact between you both.

He leans in, mouth mere millimetres away from your own, before speaking. You can taste the tobacco as he does. "I'm gonna let every single one of my subordinates fuck your disobedient cunt, and it's not gonna get any cum. Do you understand that order, sweetheart?"

It's cruel. Patronising, and so unbearably condescending, but you nod, a tear finally leaking down your cheek.

With a calloused thumb, he wipes it away in one stroke. "Save that for the actual punishment, operator."

And then, he steps back, and takes a seat in his chair, allowing him a full view of the other three still sat at the couch, and your position in his desk.

"This is a lesson on following your captain's orders," Price barks his order, like most other men of his rank would. It's a stone cold contrast to the gentle, comforting way he usual spoke to the four of you. His voice, now, holds no love, no underlying adoration lacing through his words. "You will follow every command I give you, and hopefully, this training will carry onto our future missions."

You're all aware that if it gets too much, one of you will utter the safeword you're all aware of -- the weight of it almost embedded into your beings.

Price knows it, too. And no matter how angry he is, he'll always put you all first, listen to you when you genuinely need to stop.

The feeling in the room has shifted from one of heavy disappointment, to an electrifying anger that has liquid heat melting to your core.

"Simon," Price snaps his fingers, and it's almost as if you're in a parallel universe, because the large man immediately stands. "Lay 'er down on the desk."

Ghost only needs to take two steps from the couch before he's standing in front of you, hand fisting into your hair, before somewhat gently pushing you to lay flat against the smooth surface. Your breathing is harsh, your chest moving in quick rises.

"Strip 'er down," Price orders, voice gravelly as he takes another deep inhale of his cigar, folding his leg so his left ankle rests on his right knee, legs spread wide. He fills out the chair with his frame, and it makes you shiver as Ghost gets to work peeling your clothes off of you.

When your heated skin feels the kiss of the cool air, you let out a haggard breath, head falling back to hit the wood as you clench your eyes shut.

Ghost goes to spread your thighs, before pausing, awaiting Price's directions like a dutiful dog.

You never thought you'd see the day.

"She's wet enough," Price shrugs, taking another drag of his cigar. "Fuck 'er."

Oh, fuck.

He wasn't lying, you were soaking, something about the fear unknowingly having your inner thighs sticky and core aching to be filled.

But... not getting prepped? At all?

Ghost makes a surprised grunt of a noise, pausing for a moment, before recollecting his senses and unbuckling his pants.

Oh. Fuck.

He's really, properly following Price's directions, like the man had demanded. The guilt was eating all of you alive, and that festered in Simon's actions.

His deep brown eyes flick to yours, before he unzips his fly with one hand, gaze not moving from yours. There's slight apology in them, only a hint, before he leans down to spit on your cunt.

You inhale a sharp breath at the act, squeezing your eyes shut as his dick presses against your heat, rubbing against it slightly.

Then, he pushes in -- it makes you cry out, breath hitching as the tip enters. It's a tight fit, but he continues to push in, and it's almost as if you can feel the intrusion, the pressure in your chest.

"So you can follow orders, huh?" Price quips, almost nastily, and it has you shuddering as Ghost's hips finally flush against your own. You don't think you've ever taken any of them without foreplay, and it's a special form of torture. The pressure is almost too much, his cock filling you up so much.

Simon's head hangs between his shoulders, muscles tense as he stares down at you, the epitome of self-restraint.

He always was the most controlling one, the most calculating.

Not today, however.

That title easily belongs to Price, who merely relaxes further into his seat, as if he wasn't just mere feet away from the two of you.

"I said fuck her, Riley. Not stand there and keep it warm."

He's so fucking. He's fucking cruel about this, fully willing and wanting to make this hurt. It's so completely unlike the man you love, and it's psychologically damning in a way nothing else could be.

But, like directed, Simon fucks you.

He stops trying to be kind about it, stops wallowing in guilt. It's rough, forceful, urgent, unlike the way he usually liked to savour your pleasure, your pain. He usually delighted in the smooth, deep strokes, prolonging the passionate act almost vindictively.

No. Now, it's quick, punishing thrusts, and your head falls back and little moans escape your throat.

It's like you've both forgotten that Soap and Gaz sit on the couch, watching, waiting. Price has likely made it that way on purpose, to make them envy the attention you and Ghost are getting.

"Fuck," you moan, tits bouncing as Simon continues to fuck you relentlessly, harsh in his movements.

"Does he feel good?" Price is standing, and when you open glassy eyes, it's to see his face looking down at you. If you had the mind to, you'd flinch under his criticizing expression. "Answer me."

You nod, shakily, and when his brows narrow, you rush out a verbal response. "Yes, yes, he does!"

Price hums a noncommittal sound, before his hand slides down your stomach, leaving your hairs to stand on end, before his fingers reach your clit. In tight circles, he has you on the edge almost immediately, and you cry out.

"Gonna fuckin' cum," Ghost grunts, voice low as his eyes clench tight.

"Aww, you two close?" Your captain's voice is gruff, all too condescending, and just before you can find your release, his hand leaves your clit, and wraps around Ghost's neck. He leans into his ear, and his whisper is loud enough for everyone to hear. "Pull out."

Simon makes a noise suspiciously close to a whimper, and it's so unlike him that it has your eyes opening wide, before he does just as Price ordered.

He pulls out.

"Seriously?" You groan, filter eviscerated like your high was. You lean up, using your elbows for leverage.

Price raises one brow, before scratching at his beard almost absent-mindedly. "Got a complaint, sergeant?"

You shake your head, lightning quick, like a puppet on a string.

That's what you were right now -- what all of you were. Just puppets in whatever acts Price wanted to see you all star in.

It's exhilarating in the worst of ways.

"Soap, Gaz," Price snaps once more, and Ghost is nothing more than a neglected mutt. Which, really, is almost funny considering the amount of times the man teases you, Soap and Gaz about such a comment. You couldn't count the amount of times he's compare you three to 'needy puppies'.

Now, he was nothing more than that, and you wish you could enjoy that fact more.

The two men adhere to the command, radiating nervous energy as they stand to attention, not unlike they would if they were in a standard military unit.

"Gaz, take her mouth," Price demands, before his hand buries in the short hair near the nape of Soap's head with a mean grip, meant to hurt. Soap barely hides a whine as Price tugs him, forcing the man to his knees as if he's nothing more than the mutt Ghost usually refers to him as. "You, lick 'er clean."

You realise, then, what exactly this is.

It's truly a display of power. Of control. Because you four took that away from him on the field, unrightfully so. There truly is thought behind his anger, his pain.

It only makes the ache in your heart burn, makes it bruise and bleed where the shattered pieces cut and embed into the innerworkings of your body.

This 'training' won't make up for what you four pulled. Not in the slightest.

But it's something to let John get some of his emotions out, in a somewhat healthier way than you lot usually resorted to.

You'd always offer your support, offer yourself, and he knows that.

He's deliberately taking away that option for you, taking control to comfort the side of him that is so deeply ingrained, so deeply relied on for him to live.

You love him. So effortlessly.

Those words remain accurate, even as Johnny first licks over your wet pussy, and Kyle's dick bumps against your lips.

Opening your mouth without a thought, Kyle's tip slips in, his pre-cum salty on your tongue as you flatten your tongue against it. Johnny's as enthusiastic as ever, maybe even more than usual, as he delegates all of his attention to your aching warmth.

John's grip doesn't release from Johnny's hair, shoving his closer against you, and the sight is so hot that you wish you could fully, properly enjoy it.

Another time, when you're all in better spots, happy and unapologetic, you'll ask them to re-enact the scene.

Johnny moans against your pussy, hands coming up to grip at your bare thighs, and you just know there'll be finger-shaped bruises come tomorrow morning. He's always been unaware of his strength, not understanding the proper damage he can inflict, especially in the bedroom. It's attractive as all hell.

"Yeah? She taste good, hm?" John nearly snarls, and you let out a drawn out moan at the pleasure and words. The sound is muffled by Kyle pushing in deeper, having you almost gagging on his length.

Your eyes flutter shut at the onslaught of feelings, but even with no sight, you can feel Simon's eyes on you like a physical weight.

You know what position he's in, without having to look. Leaning against the wall with a furious expression, large arms folded over his bulky chest. Maybe he's pulled off his mask, maybe it's just been hooked over his crooked nose.

"Fuck, cap," Kyle groans, bucking into your throat. "So fuckin' good--"

Johnny muffles a whine as his efforts nearly double, and you swear spots colour the darkness of your vision. You're already there, and it's not like you can say anything, with Kyle abusing your mouth like this.

"She's close, ain't she, Johnny? Feel her clenchin' on your tongue?" John taunts, and you can feel Johnny nod against your core, nose brushing your clit as he does.

John huffs a cruel laugh, before he abruptly pulls Johnny away by the scruff of his neck. You can't help by buck up, searching for touch, but none comes.

"Kyle," John's tone is one requiring no resistance, and with a shaky exhale, Kyle pulls out of your mouth, a string of spit clinging to his dick, before snapping and leaving your cheek covered with a line of it.

You shakily open your eyes, your pussy begging for a release, knowing that you won't get one. Not yet.

"You make a mess, you clean it up," John says.

So, Kyle leans down, his tongue licking over the spit trail, and really it should be disgusting.

Instead, it only makes you wetter.

Your thighs incessantly shake, no hint of stopping as your body aches. The emotional turmoil, mixed with the physical kind -- it's a concoction for torture.

With half-lidded eyes, you watch as John forces Johnny's head in between your breasts, pressing his face into them. It must be almost suffocating, but Johnny manages to whine as you feel John's hand wrap around Johnny's dick, positioning it against your twitching hole.

"Rut into her," John orders, before stepping back.

Johnny does just that -- he thrusts in, bottoming out with one push. Your moan sounds too alike to a squeal at the stretch, the sudden intrusion. Your arms wrap around his back, nails scratching lines down Johnny's back as he thrusts into you almost manically. You're sure that you're drawing blood, but it only seems to encourage the man rutting into you further, his thrusts urgent and feral.

"Jesus christ," someone -- you're sure it's Kyle -- murmurs, and you suddenly want to know what you must look like from a spectator. Ruined, probably.

Your breaths are harried as you feel yourself getting close once more, tears burning at the corner of your vision at the pure need coursing through your veins.

"Please," you whimper, squeezing like a vice around Johnny's dick. "Please, oh god."

"Now you want me to make decisions? Let you two cum?" There's a hand in your hair, and in any other situation, it'd be calming.

Currently, it feels like a thinly veiled threat.

"Please, John, 'm so sorry, please," you beg, eyes blurry as you look up into the man's stormy blue eyes.

Usually, they're comparable to a calm ocean, the beach mid-summer.

Now, they're akin to the darkest of storms, the ones sailors whisper about, the ones that haunt them while they're asleep at sea. Ones that cause shipwrecks to wash up on shores, ones that cause stories to be passed between campers on the scariest of nights.

"Now you're sorry, sweetheart?" And, oh, there's a sliver of the warmth you've come to crave, and it almost has you melting where you lay.

You're so close, you can taste it on your tongue, and your moans get louder, needier, more frantic --

"Stop, Johnny."

Tears fall, then. Hot and heavy down your cheeks, leaving sticky tracks in their wake. Hiccups fall from your lips as you sob from the deprevation.

Johnny whines, head drooped low as he stops, and you can feel him pulse inside of you, both of you at your wits' end.

"You follow orders so well in this room, don't you?" John says. The voice of a captain.

It's almost your last straw. The devastation is too great, the mix of physical and emotion stress weighing on you heavily.

"'M so sorry, shoulda listened," you cry, body trembling.

"John, please, we're sorry," Kyle insists, a furrow between his dark brows where he takes a step closer to you and Johnny.

Simon, although silent, is also closer to you both now than he had been, no longer stood against the wall.

Your boys -- they're so inherently protective, and it's such a nice feeling. No matter how guilty they feel, how genuinely sorry, they can't stand to see you or Johnny so weak, so vulnerable.

Love. You love them, in a way words can never describe.

John exhales. A deep, thoughtful one.

"We're talking about this, after we're all cleaned up," he says. It's the first hint of himself that you've heard tonight, and the relief is like an intoxicating drug.

It's like even the room itself takes a deep breath, dispelling of some of the tension lining every inch of it.

"Off 'er," John snaps his fingers, and Johnny pulls out with a small whimper, head still hung low.

Grabbing your hips, John flips you over, making you bend so your face is to the desk and your ass is in the air. His large hand presses against your lower back, bending you into an arch.

He slides in, and it's an easy entry. You don't think you've been more wet in your life, and gods, you need it.

Setting a ruthless pace immediately, every thrust forces a whimper, a moan, a whine out of your mouth, eyes dazed as your cheek presses against the wood. His hand fists into your hair, forcing your head to face the three men stood side by side, watching you both with a flurry of emotions behind heavy stares.

"Feel so fuckin' good, christ," John seethes, his grip tightening in your hair, causing your moan to become louder as it leaves your lips.

It isn't long before you're at that cliff once more, begging for a final push, just so you can reach that finish you ache for.

"Gonna, fuck, please, let me cum, John, I love you, I'm so sorry," your words aren't fully your own, and they come out in a desperate plea.

"Yeah? My girl gonna cum for me? Needy slut."

Those words are your undoing, your nirvana.

You cum, body strung tight as tears fall down your cheeks once more, your vision nearly blacking out with the strength of your orgasm. It's almost painful, the stimulation altogether too much, and not enough.

John finishes not long after, his cum filling you up with a loud groan from him.

He releases his fist in your hair, and you head falls to the desk, body slumping with the final release of pleasure.

Stroking a smoothing hand down your back, he pulls out, and you can feel his seed leaking down your thighs. You must be a sight -- all worn out and dripping with the white liquid.

"We don't getta cum?" Johnny whines, and you can hear the roll of Simon's eyes.

There's a hand stroking stray hairs off of your face, and from the texture and size of the limb you can tell it's Kyle.

"You won't get to tomorrow, either, if you keep tha' up," Price mutters, and you let out a delusional giggle at his words. You're cum-drunk, almost, from how drawn out your orgasm had been.

"We really are sorry, Cap," Kyle murmurs genuinely, and the hurt is a sharp barb on his tongue. "You know we love you, didn't mean to hurt you."

John releases a long, worn-out breath. "I know that. I do. But you're a bunch of reckless muppets 'nd you fuckin' went too far today. I'm your captain, lover or not."

"We'll talk it over later," Simon states, and you can't help but agree with the sentiment.

You will. And it'll be a painful conversation, but one that you all owe to your captain.

Because, at the end of the day, you four would do anything for the man that you love. That includes the tough words, the difficult exchanges.

John presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, and with complete certainty, you're sure that you're all going to be okay.

a/n. the day that i stop loving poly 141 is the day that i die. price needs all the love omg this one kinda hurt to write cause oof angst but hopefully it was an enjoyable read!!!! thank you to everyone who comments on my fics, your notes etc make me do a lil happy dance ily all!!!!!!!!!!!!

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hoeforhao · 1 year ago

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🏷 Kidult ▪︎ Choi Seungcheol Fic ▪︎

↷ pairing: dad!seungcheol × fem!reader (feat!jeonghan)

↷ genre: heavy angst, fluff towards the end, mentions of childhood trauma, sort of arranged marriage? cheol and reader have a daughter together, lots of dad seungcheol content!!!

↷ summary: can trying to relive the childhood you never got to experience, through your daughter be the reason of your husband's irk?

↷ part: 1/4 pt.2, pt.3, pt.4

↷ w.c: 2.5k

↷ author's note: part 1 is here finally!! will try to post part 2 by the end of this week, and part 3 will be a bonus smut which will be published on cheol's birthday♡

If you want to be added to this fic's taglist, drop a comment under this post ; my ask box is open too♡

Motherhood was truly a blissful chapter of every woman's life. Seeing your child growing up in your arms, her little legs stomping through the grass to join her playmates, often tumbling down on her way, her father going completely nuts over the itty bitty scratches on his princess,made you feel a joy not even billion dollars could buy.

But that's definitely not something you believed in before getting married to seungcheol or even when you announced to all of your family, that you were about to birth a small little version of your husband and their son.

While his child swelled in your belly, his ignorance and indifference towards you, swelled in your heart. Although it would be downright selfish to say that seungcheol didn't take care of you during your pregnancy, but you surely weren't that naive to not understand it was all for the wellbeing of his daughter.

Well some people unlike others are just destined to go through life like a soldier, bound to only their duty without the luxury of enjoying worldly pleasures - that's what you've been telling yourself since your childhood, all throughout your marriage but now...now it's different.

As selfish as it may sound, your daughter Hana's childhood now gave you a newfound hope of reliving those years of your life that you never got to cherish....being as carefree and jolly like a two year old, sleeping every night with a teddy tucked under your arms without any thoughts about how to deal with this cruel world.

You were so consumed in your thoughts that you failed to notice the cinnamon pie set in the oven being slightly overcooked along its edges.

"Shit shit shit you cannot mess this up y/n!!! Cheol and Hana are crazy over your cinnamon pie and the last thing you wanna do is disappoint your daughter and his father" you mentally cuss at yourself while taking out the pie pot from the oven as quick as possible....mildly burning your fingers in the attempt.

A thud of the main door shitts your concentration from your burned fingers to your hall, which is now being adorned by Hana's giggles upon seeing her father.

"Dada is home princess! What has my girl been doing all day without her daddy huh" seungcheol literally throws his coat on the couch before hopping towards his beloved daughter, taking her up in his arms in one quick lift and peppering the little ball's mochi cheeks with kisses.

"I played a lot with momma today daddy, and you know you know we even threw a birthday party for Bella hehe" Hana started blabbering out her entire day's routine to her father, sitting on his lap, her head resting on his chest,as seungcheol kept on playing with his daughter's silken locks.

"That's why my cupcake is all dolled up right now huh, I see" seungcheol's arms wrap around Hana's waist tightly while patting her hair. "Do I look like a princess dwaddy?"

"When does my Hana doesn't look like a princess, baby! You're royalty, my little highness" you were watching such a dreamy cinematic sequence of a perfect loving family being played out infront of you, from behind the kitchen counter....the catch being you were just a part of this trio only for a show to others.

"Daddy daddy can we go to the park tomorrow pwease" your daughter surely knew that her puppy eyes was cheol's biggest weakness and that's what she used everytime to make her father tend to all the tantrums.

"Anything for my babygirl. But first you've to stop looking at me with those eyes or dadda's heart will burst from cuteness babie" hana's adorable beads were now paired with her dad's dimples making your heart swell at the view. Two of your cutest dumplings.

"Come on now enough talking you two! Who wants to have the first bite of the pie?" you break off your glare from the duo and bring out the piping hot plate of freshly baked crust from the kitchen and set it on the table before them.

"Me me me" "No me" "No daddy me. Won't you let your princess have the first bite" one pout from Hana and seungcheol melts into a puddle, stuffing her small cheeks with the first bite of the pie by himself. "Next time dadda will win for sure!!!" a small hmph leaves your 27 year old husband's lips.

"So when are we going out tomorrow?" you press your lips into a smile like an excited puppy, putting a halt to the father daughter's playtime...your eyes glistening up at the thought of the beautiful day ahead.

"We'll leave after breakfast" seungcheol's stern voice echoes around the hall, awaring you of the void of emotions he has dug out only for you, his wife and the mother of his child.

"Oh okay! Come on Hana it's bedtime bub." you swing her up into your arms, marking your steps towards her bedroom. "No mowmmy I wanna play more with daddy please"

"No baby. We gotta wake up early tomorrow for the park right? There you can play with dad all throughout the day. Okay love?" you plant a goodnight kiss to your daughter's temples before tucking her into her soft Cinderella sheets.

"My cute round munchkin" one last loving glance at Hana and you put off the lights of her room to let her drift into the happiest dream ever, without any tension of the cruelties of the outside world.

Changing into a soft satin robe and tying your hair up into a bun, you finally settle yourself under the duvet of your shared bedroom with seungcheol, your back facing him, wishing ever passing moment, that at least once he wraps you around his arms. But you know better, that he never will.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ・・・・☆・・・・

"YAH CHOI HANA WALK SLOW!" screaming at

that poodle of sunshine waddling away in utter haste, you try to match her pace, literally all breathless and panting.

After a fruitless attempt to follow your spawn of Satan going absolutely haywire about being in a park with her daddy, you curve up your back, sweating like a pig looking for some air ; a pair of cold petite hands lands on the crook of your neck.

"Who the fuc - oh my god Mr notepad ass what are you doing here!!" your face instantly harbors the biggest smile upon seeing your childhood bestfriend after literally months.

"Come on girl, you meet the heartthrob of the town, and this is how you greet him? Girls swoon over m - ah ouch y/n lord my future gen " hearing jeonghan blabber 'bout being a hot cake was downright torture for you, when the man literally had no cake to offer!!!

"Yeah yeah sure that's why you used to ask me to find you a girl, pheww!!" a big smug visible clear in your eyes.

"sigh Is this how you welcome your bestfriend after almost an year??!!" han knew that him giving you those angel eyes will make your composure melt in a matter of seconds and that's exactly what happened.

"Oh come on! I was joking! You know I love you, you little bunny" you instantly wrap your arms around han's waist tightly, while pouting like a puppy yourself, as he returns the gesture in a blink.

"Except the cake part tho, hehe!" a slight pinch lands on his butt as you free yourself from him to walk to the ride's counter, hand in hand. Your heart was fluttering like a flock of doves, because you could let your true self take control only when with jeonghan, from laughing like a five year old, being a naughty tease to smiling wide like the sun. Why so? Because apparently seeing you letting your inner child out in the open, irked your 'husband'.

"Oh the main question! Why are you here? That too at a theme park!!!" shooting an interrogative glare towards jeonghan you march away through the crowd like a happy squirrel.

"I'm here with Nabi, and my little bunbun Byul. She literally manipulated me into taking her to this park. ME! THE YOON JEONGHAN BEING MANIPULATED. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT! I guess she learnt it from her dad only" jeonghan blurted out almost an entire verse within seconds, and you felt nothing but sheer joy being reunited with the only who who cherished your presence, after so long.

"There they are" you look over the thick mass to see Seungcheol and Hana standing by the ride, her little pinky entwined with her father's dainty yet strong digits, while pulling onto jeonghan's arms to run towards your family.

Cheol's face turns slightly dark watching you beaming with joy being arm tied with another man, that was not him. He knew jeonghan was your bestfriend from the time your wedding bells rang but....there was this feeling in his heart against Han, that he could never justify.

"Hey Seungcheol. How you've been? Grown quite buff huh!" Jeonghan playfully slaps Cheol's muscles, earning a sort of irritated groan and a tight smile from him.

"Looks like someone's jealous!" you lean your body over jeonghan's shoulder, whispering into his ears which lands you into being tickled by him like crazy, in public.

"Okay okay I'm sorry, s-stop!" Han's devilish hands finally leaves your body, as yout chest heaves up and down, breathless from laughing an entire year's worth.

"Umm hmm" cheol clears his throat as he tries to break off the *not so desirable scene rolling out infront of him* "we should get Hana going on the ride now, she's growing quite impatient"

"Omg yes so sorry baby mom got distracted" you take Hana from her father's grip. "Cheol cheol let us get on the ride too na? Pls!!! Pls!!" pulling onto your husband's biceps, being in a trance of happiness and forgetting that he's Choi Seungcheol and not your buddy, Jeonghan -

"Stop behaving like a kid y/n! You're twenty seven and a mother to a two year old! Fuckin act like one" each and every word that left cheol's lips carved out a new wound in your heart. Though he's right anyways....you don't deserve to fool around like a happy child....you never did....

"I'll call Nabi and Byul too. Both of them can enjoy their visit that way then" jeonghan steps in to somewhat chase away the cloud that was near to pouring down over the four of you "and Byul is herself quite fond of her bestfriend Hana anyways. They would love this set up" Han's lips curl up into a forced smile as he walks off to fetch his own family.

"I i'm sorry" you let go off Hana's tiny fingers, as soon as jeonghan leaves,leading her to the ride's entrance. "Hold on tightly to the bars, okay? Mom will be right here" your soft sweaty hands cup her cheeks before she turns around to go get seated on her most awaited part of the day.

Seungcheol's face is painted with guilt and regret, as he watches over his small family - while her daughter is glaring brighter than the sun with soulful joy, his wife is standing all gloomy beside the long sheep haired guy he have always envied.

"Mommy the ride was amazing. You know Byul was scared hehe. She was holding onto my arms" your daughter waddles down the metal stairs, her bestfriend following soon after, both of their faces all sweaty and glinting from the little adventure.

"N-no i was not, i i just tried to k-keep Hana safe" the two year old blurts out, trying to protect her pride, while her dad scoops her up into his arms, drying off her face with his shirt.

"Yes you're my strong and brave bun, I know that baby" jeonghan places open mouth kisses on his daughter's face, shifting her to her mother's arms gently, placing a gentle kiss on his wife's forehead in the process.

Such a beautiful family. A word that would never fit your own -

"I - I'm taking the girls to have some ice cream" seungcheol breaks the silence that has now creeped up onto your face. "Wanna j-join us, y/n?" no matter how much he tries to act cool or indifferent, the words he threw at your merry face just few minutes back, refuses to leave his mind, engulfing his form in severe shame and agony.

"No I would like to stay back. You three go ahead" the change in your tone was clear enough for even a stranger to notice....and jeonghan has known you for twenty whole years.

"Nabi you accompany the girls and seungcheol. We two will be waiting for y'all by the carousel" surprising right? How jeonghan was the one having your back and not your husband!!!

"Seungcheol was being an absolute dick back there you know. A very annoying, lumpy and dumbass dick " han's hands curl up against your shoulder as he pulls your head to rest on his nape, while both of you were seated on a bench shining under the dreamiest luminaire.

"Hmm" you hum into his skin, warm salty drops slowly making their way down his silk shirt "or maybe he was actually right"

Pulling yourself up from Han's embrace, you focus your eyes onto your lap, while fidgeting with your fingers, when you feel a warm pair of hands cupping your cheek, fingers pushing off any drop of water that dared to pass by your supple skin.

"Just because someone doesn't appreciate your presence in their life and treat you as nothing but a person their daughter calls 'mom', doesn't mean that you are allowed to downgrade yourself" his hands traveling down your face to now engulf your palms into his, "You have every right to be yourself y/n. I know how you've been fighting all your life, how you never had anything what people call carefree childhood these days....don't let anyone murder the soulful kid within you. Understood, Ms Thumper Paws" jeonghan settles his speech with a finishing pinch on your dumpling cheeks.

"Aye aye sir! Noted!!" you finally flash him with the smile he has been trying to bring out since 'someone' decided to slash it.

To both of your oblivion, seungcheol was watching his wife, his partner being all giggly like a beaming ray of sunshine, her bunny teeth making its way out for the world to see, but-

not in his arms, not on his jokes, instead because of her bestfriend....the person he has always been jealous of, for making you smile so wide and bringing out the adorable kid in you!!!something only he wishes to do you for you.....

all this while the caramel ice cream he brought for you melting away in his hands, as he takes in the sight before him with gritted teeth and hurt eyes

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somedayillbepeterpan · 7 months ago

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I have gone down this rabbit hole now and I'm afraid I'm never getting out. I hope I give justice to this. And sorry if this is long.

I've seen a lot of the Colin and Marina vs. Colin and Penelope analyses in here and I want to raise this parallel as to how the Butterfly ball was such a powerful move for both Penelope and Colin. We all have our issues with how they handled Pen and Colin finding their way back to each other but let me add this perspective and hope it helps us understand how real they handled the issue of LW and pushed the character development for them both.

The scene on the left is from S01e06 (Swish) and the right is S03e08 (Into the Light)

S1 scene - Violet is still in her dressing gown, obviously distraught having just read something from LW. She hears someone come down and finds Colin.

S3 scene - Violet is dressed for the morning and her face looks a combination of surprise and confusion after reading a letter. She turns around when she hears someone coming down the stairs.

In both scenes, we see Colin coming down the stairs.

S1 - we only see Colin's back. We're in suspense on what emotional state he is in but we do know that he's on his way to elope with Marina.

In S3 - we see Colin's face immediately looking determined and ready. We see Violet calling his name quite urgently.

S1 - Colin sees his mother's face looking like a combination of disappointment and anger. He asks what's happening. She doesn't say anything but just looks at Colin with a sadness that only a mother can give.

S3 - Violet pointedly says that she received a letter from Colin's wife (I love this line so much) that sounds awfully like "I need you to explain what's happening right now."

S1 - Violet hands Colin LW without saying anything and just looks so so so sad. Colin is shocked to his core because we learn that LW (Pen) exposes Marina's pregnancy and that she has been pregnant from the beginning of the season.

S3 - Colin determinedly faces his mother telling her that they had better sit. And I'm guessing that Colin tells her everything.

Where am I going with this? (Gosh, doing an analysis is hard 😂)

The first time Colin fell in love (thought he fell in love), he was blindsided. But I believe the pain he felt at that time was made deeper because his family had to save him from the situation (Anthony explaining that his actions in the scandal will affect his sisters' prospects as well). To think that it was his mother who first learned of the situation added salt to the wound because we all know that he is a mama's boy and that the one person he dislikes letting down is his mother.

The second (and last time) Colin falls in love, he once again feels betrayed. But he's fallen in love so deeply that he can't imagine his life without Pen. The struggle he goes through in understanding his emotions was very hard to watch and it's because the issue goes beyond his and Pen's relationship. It extends to his family.

Colin's hero complex goes beyond feeling worthy of Pen's love but also worthy of the Bridgerton name. We see it several times in S3 when he mentions it in his confrontation with Portia (" I advise you not to sully our Bridgerton name...") and when Pen tells him that Cressida discovered her secret ("It will besmirch our Bridgerton name. The entire family").

The whole sequence in the study is now more significant because of what Pen addresses in their conversation-- Colin's family ("Your family... the one you so kindly shared with me, they are too good").

Pen's "sacrifice" ("But I can no longer conceal the biggest piece of information I have. My identity."), I believe, was to save the Bridgerton family (once again) and she asks Colin to stand by her as she formulates and executes this plan.

It was very important that Pen wrote a letter to Violet directly and that Colin was there right after she's read it to explain everything. From this point on, they were a team. From this point on, Colin moves in parallel with Pen instead of against it. Colin finally sees that version of Pen that she's always been even while she was LW-- the person who was always determined to save his family just as much as he does.

From this point on, their goals were aligned.

10 rewatches after, I finally see how Colin found his way back to Pen. It wasn't very obvious to me how he got over the feelings of betrayal after he discovered Pen was LW. Of course, him reading the letters help but the events leading up to the Butterfly ball, helped him see her as both Pen and Lady Whistledown and the overflowing pride we see on his face was heart-melting to watch.

From this point on, they finally see each other eye to eye. From this point on, they finally accept this version of each other.

If you got to the end, thanks for reading my humble musings.

*Editing to add this: The Butterfly Ball deep dive series

#Butterfly ball #analysis #gosh this was hard to write #polin #bridgerton #nicola coughlan #netflix #luke newton #bridgerton seaosn 3 #bridgerton season three #netflix bridgerton #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton season 3 #peterpanbutterflyball

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shurisasthmaticgf · 6 months ago

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wait a damn minute: max verstappen x black fem! reader

summary: in the midst of the biggest worldwide IT outage you realize your name has come up at the worst time possible

author's note: i wrote this on friday when the entire thing happened, i thought i posted it but turns out it was camped out in my drafts still. this is my first max fic so i hope it's an enjoyable read! feedback and comments are always appreciated and highly encouraged, i like to know what you all think of my work!

warnings: google translated dutch

the hungarian grand prix was only days away and you couldn't wait to surprise your boyfriend with a visit. it killed you to miss his races but you'd recently been promoted to a new position in your company which required more days in office than remote. you'd managed to balance work and personal life pretty well but when you weren't missing due to your new job, you had something else happen last minute. finally, after weeks of working long hours on end in an office, you were in the clear to start remote working more frequently.

you managed to clock out of work right on time so the minute the clock hit 6:00 pm, you were logging out and grabbing your already packed bag. one of your coworkers passed by you in the elevator, he was the only one around your age in the entire department so immediately you both clicked. he lightly bumped you with his shoulder and commented, "three side profiles and a headshot or selfie." you furrowed your brows in confusion and he clarified, "photo requests for my husband of course." the two of you burst into laughter as you teased, "was the autographed photocard not enough for you, théo? i even decorated it and put it in a holder for your desk." the young man smiled fondly thinking of the small 3x4 inch card that sat on the corner of his main monitor. he brushed one of his locs from his face and dramatically sighed, "fine i won't be pushy...i only want the selfie." you shook your head and refused with a chuckle, "i'm not asking toto wolff for a selfie, théo." your coworker let out a fake sigh of disappointment and lightly pushed you in the other direction as you parted ways to your cars. you laughed and called out, "i'll see what i can do, no promises though!" his face lit up and he blew your air kisses before calling out a goodnight.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

just thinking about seeing your boyfriend racing again brought butterflies to your stomach. although he was doing well this season a few problems had cost him a few wins here and there. fans had jokingly mentioned that you not being at races was the cause of the missed first place wins because coincidentally, every race you've ever attended, max has won exactly that. for weeks fans have asked about your whereabouts and you'd practically ghosted them simply because you were working so much. you were known as one of the more down to earth f1 WAGs who had no problem interacting with fans in person and over social media. so you suddenly not showing up for max and not interacting with people online made them wonder what was going on with you during the past few weeks. now that work had chilled out, you were happy to be back online again, and even happier to be able to make it out to hungary this weekend.

the moment you stepped into your apartment you made a beeline for your bedroom to change out of your professional clothes. you snatched a pair of scissors, a spray bottle, conditioner, a towel, a comb, and a crumpled up paper bag and cozied up on the couch with shrek queued on the tv. you sprayed your head with the warm water in the bottle and spread a glob of conditioner all over the roots of your hair. you pulled one of your braids forward and snipped the end before unraveling it and picking out whatever knots formed in the 6 weeks your hair had been tucked away. thankfully this time it didn’t take too long to get your braids out, only 3 hours compared to the usual 5 when you didn’t have your boyfriend’s help.

right as the last strands of synthetic hair slipped out of your own curls, your phone rang the familiar tune and a picture of your boyfriend flashed on your screen. a warm smile spread across your face as his camera turned on to show face. you braided you hair on each side to get it out of your face as you spoke, “hi my love how was your day?” he rolled over to his side and grumbled sleepily, “long, usual press day so you know how that goes.” you frowned slightly, “i wish i was there with you today.” max hummed and admitted, “i do as well. but your work is more important so i can deal with this.” you watched as his eyes lingered on your face and you giggled while moving out of the frame shyly, “stop looking at me like that.” although it was dimly lit in hotel room you could see the light pink tint to his cheeks as he smiled, “i can’t admire my lovely girlfriend?” he yawned mid sentence and you insisted, “as much as i love talking to you i know you’re tired and you need to go to sleep. so i’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?” he sleepily agreed and murmured, “welterusten mijn liefste.” you blew him a kiss and whispered softly, "goodnight baby." [goodnight, my love]

instead of heading straight to sleep you chose to wash your hair rather than waiting until the morning to do so. the flight you managed to snag last minute to hungary was set for tomorrow evening and you hadn't packed anything. not wanting to get onto a plane with a damp head of coils, you decided to just deal with it tonight. the entire process didn't take as long since you were speeding through just so you could sleep. by the time you were done it was around 2 AM and you were more than happy with the results. a dozen thick twists hung past your shoulders until you wrapped them up into a scarf and covered them with your bonnet to head to bed.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

when you woke up in the morning you noticed your phone had over 50 missed calls, messages, and emails. your mind conjured up the worst possible thoughts as you called your boyfriend to see what was the matter. max answered on the first few rings and you anxiously stammered, "baby? maxie? what's going on are you okay? where are you?" on the other line max answered clearly confused on what you were talking about, "schat? i am fine, i'm heading to the track. nothing is wrong here, what are you talking about?" you started to calm down realizing that he was fine but you responded, "i thought- didn't you blow up my phone early this morning? i was worried something happened and-" your boyfriend interjected with a calm tone, "y/n, i promise you nothing is the matter-"

an incoming call from théo, your coworker cut max off and you spoke up, "i'm sorry i think it's work related because théo is calling me." max let out an annoyed sound and you laughed, "i don't get why you don't like him." max scoffed, "he is too touchy and handsy with you." there was a playful groan, "oh god here you go- max, we've been over this. théo is a 27 year old gay man from san francisco who's convinced he's princess diana's reincarnate. he's the least of your worries okay?" max conceded, "okay fine i guess...but i still have my eye on him." another call from théo interrupted your conversation and you added, "but he's blowing up my phone so i need to see what's wrong. i'll talk to you later okay?" max agreed and bid you goodbye before hanging up the phone.

meanwhile you answered théo's call and he was literally running through what looked like the parking garage of his high rise. he panted, "you- you nee-...oh god i'm out of shape- you need to get up right now.. i'll be there to pick you up in fifteen minutes so be ready downstairs." you looked around confused and your coworker/ friend explained, "there's some massive outage or something happening. i know we had off today but they're calling the entire office in to see if we can figure it out." you were already climbing out of bed and you pressed for more information, "what do you mean an outage?" théo shrugged and wiped sweat from his brow as he tried to make himself look less winded, "i dunno i was thinking a breach or something? whatever it is we'll find out but we gotta go right now babes." you hurriedly grabbed an outfit from your closet and started to get dressed and ready to go, keeping him on the line.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

when you finally managed to get to his car, théo pointed to your phone and told you, "check twitter too, the fans are making jokes that you did something to the platform." despite having no idea what the hell he was talking about you opened twitter to see the flood of tweets under your name on the trending topics list. a pit formed in your stomach and you nearly fainted when you realized what he was talking about. you were completely new to this job and panic coursed through your veins on the thought of losing everything you worked hard for. the look of panic drew a laugh from your best friend and coworker as he jested, "they're funny aren't they?!" you shook your head and nearly shouted, "no it's not i'm gonna get fired!" théo waved off your concern, "girl the issue is definitely not from you and nobody thinks so. besides, dante from marketing and eleni from HR were sending the funny ones to our group chat...not that this isn't serious but just to make light of a shitty situation you know?" you shifted in your seat unsure how to feel and he promised, "i guarantee it's fine."

when you actually got to work with théo you were pulled into a meeting where you all were briefed about the situation. they clarified that they knew it was an issue with an update that was sent out early in the morning. after the meeting your boss told you that he knew you weren't supposed to be working today but you did need to stay and potentially over the weekend as well to help your team mitigate the issue as much as you all could. despite it being a global issue and not directly an issue from the monaco office, you knew that he meant he needed you there to help deploy the solution when it came through. he let you have a fifteen minute break to rearrange your travel plans and make the cancellations you needed before having you start work.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the work day ended later than usual, the later hours were spent at your home office while you were on meetings with other people on your team. luckily you were able to catch up with the results of max's first and second practice sessions through peeking at live updates while you worked. when you got the okay to clock out, you nearly fell asleep on your desk but waking back up when your boyfriend's ringtone jump scared you.

you kept your head on the desk as you opened the video call, "hey you." max's features softened when he noticed the look of exhaustion on your face, "it was that bad huh?" you gave a silent thumbs up and sighed, "i wish it didn't happen...i was so excited to come surprise you and finally be there to see you again. i'm sorry i can't make it work." max rushed to your defense, "er zijn nog genoeg andere races over in het seizoen, je kunt in plaats daarvan naar die races komen kijken." you let out an annoyed groan, "i know but i wanted to be there this time. now you'll have bad luck." max chuckled at the mention of the running joke of you being his lucky charm, "it's alright. don't worry your pretty little head about me. now come on let's go to sleep, i know you're tired." you shuffled your feet against your bedroom floor as you took your phone with you to get ready for the night. [there are plenty of other races left in the season, you can come and watch those races instead.]

as you lay in bed with your lights off max asked, "did you see they asked me about you today?" you hummed a soft, "nuh uh." he smiled at the memory and explained, "i was in an interview and they mentioned that your name was trending on twitter and asked if i saw it. i only saw that your name was trending but i didn't see what for so they told me fans made jokes that you crashed the mercedes, mclaren, and williams servers so that i could win this weekend." a sleepy smile crossed your lips and you asked, "what'd you say?" he turned over in his bed and answered, "i told them it wasn't you because you don't make mistakes in your work. you're too good at what you do. also that you aren't the one that sends out the updates so people don't need to use your name in a bad light." you grinned wider already knowing what he was going to say, "and how did that go over?" max let out an sigh and small chuckle, "the guys have been making fun of me all night for it." you let out the loudest laugh max has heard from you in weeks making him somewhat more fine with getting teased by his friends.

your laughter subsided and you told him, "tell me about something interesting." max thought for a moment then started rambling on about the geologic history of the netherlands, watching as your eyes started to droop with the passing minutes. falling asleep with your boyfriend still on the phone became a habit especially in the early days of you dating. but now you were spending more time with him that occurrences like this just started happening once more, leaving you missing his presence at night. as for now, this was the best you could get.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the end.

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edenesth · 1 year ago

Text

The Way to His Heart [9]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 8 | Fic Masterlist | Part 10

Standing in front of the door to your former prison, all your insecurities came rushing back. Suddenly, your newfound identity seemed to evaporate, leaving you feeling like nothing more than a shell of your past self.

"What's wrong, my dear? Why do you keep staring at this storeroom, hm? You know you can tell me anything." Seonghwa asked in a gentle voice, sensing that you were far from okay. He cupped your cheek tenderly, urging you to meet his gaze.

Jongho and Eunsook stood anxiously behind you, waiting for you to reveal the truth to the general. Only then could they finally bring your family to justice for their misdeeds. The weight of everyone's expectations rested on your shoulders.

Please, mistress, just say it, and we will handle the rest.

No matter how hard your husband tried to capture your attention, all you could see was beyond his shoulder, where your family glowered at you. All the determination you had to confront your family diminished, and you were reminded of your true self.

Just a worthless, insignificant piece.

You felt undeserving of Seonghwa's love, too ashamed to confess that this pitiful excuse for a room was where you had spent your entire caged childhood. Would he still want you as his wife if he discovered the truth?

"Come on, my dear. Talk to me, please." The general leaned in, attempting to dominate your field of vision. He didn't like how you kept glancing nervously back at your family as if still afraid of what they could do to you.

Your husband's heart shattered as he gazed once more into your vacant, hopeless eyes. It felt as if he could never truly connect with you. Once again, he found himself lost, unable to reach you. It became clear that your biggest obstacle wasn't trusting him; it was trusting yourself. Despite all his efforts, your insecurities persisted.

Bringing you back to this place seemed like a colossal mistake, undoing all the progress you had made. The words Hongjoong had spoken to you were now pushed to the recesses of your mind, overshadowed by your demons.

Seonghwa's stomach sank when you averted your gaze, blinking your wet eyes with a shake of your head, "Nothing, it's nothing. I... I'm sorry, I don't know why I kept looking here; it's just an old storeroom, as you can see." Your family collectively sighed in relief, narrowly avoiding exposure. For once, they felt slightly thankful to you for not ratting them out.

Of course, it couldn't have been this easy.

Despite the internal frustration, the general flashed a reassuring smile down at you. His plan had crumbled, and you didn't speak up as he had hoped. The head maid and assistant couldn't conceal their disappointment at the missed opportunity.

Casting a glance at his assistant to silently acknowledge the failure of the plan, he squeezed your trembling hand, "It's alright, nothing to be sorry about. Well, if that is all, perhaps we can begin discussing the wedding arrangements then."

Minister Jang immediately brightened, "Of course, let us get on with it. I'm sure we have much to discuss."

With a subtle shake of his head, Jongho signalled to the private investigator that the plan wasn't unfolding as expected. Noticing the exchanged glances, your father raised an eyebrow, "Wooyoung, do you and the general's assistant know each other?"

Both froze momentarily, cursing inwardly at their lack of caution. The fake servant beamed innocently at the minister, "Oh yes, master! I thought he looked familiar; turns out we were from the same village!"

The assistant nodded along quickly with a wide smile, "Yes, what a small world."

Fortunately, the fabricated story seemed convincing, and your father nodded without suspicion, "Huh, what are the odds? Just don't let me catch you slacking off. If you want to catch up, do it after work."

Wooyoung grinned quickly, "Yes, master!" before bowing deeply. Glancing at the general for approval, he was relieved to see Seonghwa nodding lightly, silently expressing 'good job'. His heart raced, still finding it surreal that he was looking at his role model up close and being acknowledged.

Resettling into the main hall, your husband couldn't hide his concern for you. He maintained a firm grip on your hand, a constant reminder of his presence and an attempt to provide comfort despite your lack of reaction to anything. Eunsook, noting your distress, made a point to stay close behind you, silently assuring you of her support.

"Alright then, where should we begin?" Minister Jang clapped his hands together, eager to get it all over with as soon as possible.

Seated opposite you, your three sisters were still seething, their attention fixed on the general's unwavering touch on you. Refusing to concede defeat, they were determined to fight for Seonghwa, unwilling to witness you marrying their dream man in a grand wedding ceremony. He was too good for you.

She doesn't deserve him.

Before the two men could delve into any details, Jinhee, tired of her sisters always being a step ahead, seized the opportunity to speak up, "General Park, I believe I would make a better wife than unnie ever could. I urge you to change your mind and consider choosing me."

Jinah and Jinjoo scowled, feeling a sense of betrayal as they hadn't anticipated the sudden spiritedness from their middle sister. She had always been the calmest among the three. It appeared that the allure of the general was potent enough to pit them against each other for the first time.

The minister smacked a hand on his face in disbelief, growing tired of his stepdaughter's obnoxious behaviour. Just as he opened his mouth to reprimand her, the other two chimed in loudly, "No, I'd make a better wife!" before glaring at each other.

Pressing a kiss onto your knuckles to rile them up, your husband stared at the girls with an amused grin, "Really? Do you think you'd make a better wife? Why don't you each tell me why you think so? I'll consider it."

It was apparent that the general was merely toying with them, but the three were oblivious and engaged in a heated debate among themselves, striving to convince Seonghwa that each of them would make the ideal wife for him.

Meanwhile, you silently accepted your fate, believing that your husband was present to entertain the idea of replacing you with one of your stepsisters. If that's what he desired, who were you to object? You considered yourself fortunate to have been sent to him, and now that he had seen your sisters, perhaps he sought someone better than your useless self.

The general burst into a fit of vicious laughter, singling out the middle sister who promptly straightened up, "You," he pointed, "it seems like you have the most convincing argument. I suppose that makes you the most suitable for me, doesn't it?"

Jinhee vigorously nodded, "Yes, my lord!"

With a sly smile, he continued, "Very well, I'll consider marrying you, but on one condition that your father must agree to," Her eyes widened in excitement while her sisters clenched their fists in frustration, dissatisfied with her being chosen, "Anything! Just name it, and you shall have it!"

"If Minister Jang agrees to retire from his position and let me take over, then I guess I'll think about it."

Your father heaved a deep sigh, frowning at the foolish girl in irritation, "That's enough, Jinhee. Are you even hearing yourself? None of that will ever happen. I'm sure the general is only joking around."

Her stubbornness prevailed as she continued to press, "Father, this is for my happiness! If you loved me, you would agree to that!"

Even her own mother, finally sober enough, shook her head disapprovingly, "Stop it, Jinhee. Do you know what it would mean for the rest of us if your father were to retire?"

Having enjoyed the comedic display, Seonghwa chuckled darkly, "Your father's right; I was only playing with you. After all, I couldn't possibly marry you, even if he had agreed to that condition."

"Why is that?!" She questioned, still determined to have him for herself. She hated the sight of him cradling your hand; it should be her beside him. She had gotten so close to having him earlier that she refused to let the opportunity slip away so quickly.

For some reason, the minister couldn't shake off the ominous feeling he was getting from your husband's smugness. Something wasn't right; this felt oddly like a trap.

In a mock-innocent voice, the general answered, "Isn't it simple? Because you're not even Minister Jang's legitimate daughter; you do realise you're merely his stepdaughter, right?"

Your father and stepmother's eyes immediately widened, knowing exactly where this was going. Before they could do anything to stop it, Jinhee yelled out, "But I am father's real daughter!"

Gotcha, bitch.

Jongho and Eunsook did their best to suppress the growing grins on their faces, relieved that at least their master's plan B seemed to have worked out. During the assistant's time away from the estate, working with Wooyoung, they had managed to confirm the general's suspicions about the three being Minister Jang's actual daughters.

This revelation itself was enough to bring him down, as the three were born when your mother was still alive. And if they were, in fact, his, that would mean he had been disloyal to his wife and had fathered bastard children outside. This was more than enough to tarnish his reputation for good.

Rising abruptly from his seat, the minister cleared his throat loudly, "General Park, please don't take her words seriously. Clearly, she only said that out of desperation. The girl is still young and doesn't know when to stop; do not mind her. Come, let us take our discussion somewhere else."

"Save it, minister. If she isn't your daughter, where would she have gotten the confidence to voice that out loud? Don't make me laugh." Seonghwa retorted coldly.

Finally, you lifted your head to stare at the old man upon hearing the revelation. Could it be true? You didn't know if it was supposed to make you feel any better, but you used to question why your father had treated you so badly when you were his only real daughter. Now, it would make more sense, at least.

Scoffing, Minister Jang clenched his fists, "I would advise you to be careful with your words, general. After all, it wouldn't be too wise of you to slander your father-in-law and superior so carelessly like that. What would His Majesty think of you being unfilial and disrespectful to me?"

If your father thought that threat could save him, he was wrong; it seemed he was only digging himself a deeper grave.

The general peered amusingly at him through his lashes, "You know, it's really funny you should say that. Would it still be considered slander if I had evidence to back up my claims? Oh, minister, you should not have brought the King into this. He was already so disappointed in you when he learned of the truth about you and your dirty deeds throughout the years."

"Wh-what do you mean by that?" The minister stammered, visibly trembling in his spot, and his family could only sit back with terror in their eyes, not knowing what your husband had uncovered.

"Minister Jang, did you really think the King had allowed me to come here just to make wedding arrangements with you? I'd rather burn in hell than have you host my wedding, especially after what you had done to my wife in all the years she had been under your care. I'm only here for your confession, under His Majesty's orders."

A series of gasps rang across the hall as your stepmother and stepsisters froze in their seats, the realisation finally hitting them that they had been under scrutiny this whole time. It became apparent since the minister's suspicious behaviour at the assembly.

Little did everyone know that Seonghwa's investigative work had been funded by the King himself the entire time. The two had shared a deep conversation after the assembly; what initially started off as idle chatter regarding the general's new wife transitioned into a serious discussion as your husband revealed what he discovered about the minister thanks to your arrival.

Your eyes widened at Seonghwa's words, wondering if he had known all along about what had happened to you. Feeling your gaze on him, he turned to face you with a soft smile, "I told you I'd protect you."

Feeling your heart flutter and eyes tearing up with tears of relief, you finally squeezed his hand back, "Thank you, Seonghwa."

Cutting your moment short, your father shook his head in denial, "You're lying. Nice try, General Park. I'm not falling for your trick. If you were telling the truth, why would His Majesty have bothered to send you here when he could have just arrested me?"

Turning back to face the old man, your husband smirked, "Now, where would all the fun be in that? Of course, I didn't expect you to admit everything to me so easily. It was fun watching all of you panic in front of the so-called storeroom earlier. I hope you enjoyed the temporary relief, courtesy of my lovely wife. Someone, bring the minister a chair before we start recounting all the interesting things he's done so far."

Jongho was more than happy to help, "Yes, sir!" He promptly moved a chair to the centre of the hall where the minister stood before returning to his position behind his master.

Your stepmother and stepsisters remained glued to their seats, hearts filled with dread. Jinhee regretted her every action immediately, not that it made much difference. They were already doomed from the moment they delivered you to him.

"Will you not sit, Minister Jang?" Seonghwa teased, and when the old man glared at him, he shrugged, unbothered, "Suit yourself. Let us begin then."

The general stretched a waiting hand in his assistant's direction and waited as the younger man fished a few documents out from his pockets, "Here you go, sir."

"Alright, let's see, where should we start?"

With a devilish grin, your husband flipped through the pages, addressing the minister, "So, were you denying that these three are your biological daughters? Not to worry, I have just the thing to prove it. See, we have their birth certificates and the fake ones you forged right here. You bribed your physician quite a bit for these, huh? Well, it seems the amount you paid was not nearly enough since he spilt everything to us so easily."

The minister's wife pointed a shaky finger at the papers in Seonghwa's hands, "Th-that's not possible. How did you get your hands on those documents?"

"Ah, so you admit these are yours?" The general raised a brow, "I get it; it's hard not to when the only copies to exist were found in your private quarters, hm? I'll have precious Wooyoung to thank for these. Come here, boy. You should be so proud of yourself."

"Thank you, my lord! I'll work harder!"

In front of the minister and his family, the mole finally unveiled himself. All five of them could only gape at the new employee who had recently joined the estate. They praised him for his work and even thought of him as a hard worker. Suddenly, it all made sense why he always seemed too eager to help around. He had been snooping around for the enemy all along.

Your father pointed accusingly at the fake staff member of his estate, "Y-you traitor—"

"How can he be a traitor when he was never on your side to begin with? Let's not change the subject, alright? Now, let us conclude the number of crimes you've committed here; first, you've cheated on your wife and had not only one but three illegitimate children outside of your home. I must say, minister, you're setting a horrible example for the married men in all of Joseon." Seonghwa shook his head in disapproval.

"Next, you've bribed your physician to silence him and then get him to further commit the crime of forging official documents for you. I guess this could have been understandable if it had been a silly little commoner not knowing any better, but my goodness, you are our nation's Minister of Military Affairs! What would the people think of us if they knew their leaders were this unethical?"

"And the worst of it all, you kept my wife caged in that pathetic excuse of a room all her life. You all had a hand in her suffering and abused her endlessly, all for your own entertainment. And what had she done that was so wrong to deserve any of that? Just because she was born from the wife you did not choose and love?" The general spat, feeling his heart ache and anger rise.

It was your turn to rub a thumb softly over his skin to remind him that you were fine now; you were loved and cared for, all because of him. He tightened his hold on your hand, vowing to get you justice.

"Can any of you even call yourselves human?" He growled, glaring at your family. Your stepsisters trembled, avoiding his death stare, feeling like complete idiots, especially after their stupid little innocent act earlier. Why did they even believe for a second that they could have fooled him?

With a deep breath, Seonghwa put on a sarcastic smile, "And with all of that, it should be enough for you to be stripped of your title and for your entire family to be demoted from a noble house to commoners."

The old man's knees went weak, and he ended up plopping into the chair Jongho had placed behind him. Clenching his fists, he shook his head again, "No, you can't do this to us. You can't do this to me. I've dedicated my life to this job and this country. I have contributed so much—"

Smirking, the general cut him off, "Why? Are you unsatisfied with this conclusion? I expected no less from you, you ungrateful bastard. Fine, I guess we'll have no choice but to dive deeper and talk about your most severe crime then."

There's... more?

Furrowing your brows, you wondered what other horrible things your father could have possibly done. Everything that your husband had already listed seemed like a lot to you.

Your stepmother gasped loudly, clutching onto her chest as she took in the general's wicked grin, "He knows..."

Jinah frowned, grabbing her mother's arm in confusion, "What is it? What does he know? What else has father done?" The other two sisters stared at their parents, who looked scared for their lives.

"Yes, I do know, Lady Jang. Did you really think the two of you could keep your dirty little secret hidden forever? As if adultery and illegal document forgery weren't bad enough, you were both audacious enough to commit murder against an innocent person."

Minister Jang and his wife shared a horrified glance, realising that the veil of secrecy they had meticulously woven was now unravelling before them. The colour drained from their faces, and beads of sweat formed on their foreheads.

The mistress of the Jang estate stammered in fear, "N-no, that's not true! You're making baseless accusations, General Park. We haven't committed any murder!"

The general remained unfazed, a cold stare fixed upon them, "Really? You haven't? Then tell me, why do the two of you seem so afraid? You weren't trembling with fear when you poisoned the first Lady Jang to death, and you certainly weren't afraid when you robbed my wife of her mother."

Staring at your father and stepmother in horror, a wave of disbelief crashed over you. The revelation hit like a tidal wave, leaving you stunned and paralysed. The people you thought were simply cruel for torturing you all your life had now revealed a more sinister truth – they were the reason you never knew your own mother.

The shock and betrayal etched across your face, your eyes locked onto theirs as the weight of their sins settled in. It wasn't just about the abuse and mistreatment; they had orchestrated a tragedy that deprived you of the one person who could have brought warmth and love into your life.

"And what evidence do you have to prove that?" The minister finally mustered the courage to challenge the accusations, still putting up a fight. His three daughters, nearly as shocked as you were by the revelation, couldn't fathom that their parents might have actually taken someone's life.

Seonghwa remained unyielding, maintaining his cold gaze, "Not to worry, I have it all right here." He gestured to the documents Wooyoung held, revealing a series of letters exchanged between the couple all those years ago detailing the best way to end someone's life and make it look like a natural death, as though they had succumbed to an ordinary illness.

"Isn't it an uncanny coincidence that the physician confessed to the first Lady Jang dying from mandrake poisoning, and simultaneously, there is an abundance of mandrake planted in your garden? Alongside these incriminating letters, everything aligns seamlessly. There's nothing you can say to undermine this evidence, minister. Would you care to explain your actions now?"

Minister Jang's face contorted with defiance and anger. He took a deep breath before finally admitting, "Fine, it's true. I did it; I killed that woman. But you have to understand; the first Lady Jang ruined my life. I never wanted to marry her in the first place. It was a political arrangement forced upon me to please her influential family. They held more power than I did at the time."

His eyes darted around, gauging the reactions of those present, especially his daughters, "I clawed my way up, working tirelessly to reach my position as Minister of Military Affairs. I didn't need her family anymore. So, I did her a favour – I ended her unhappy marriage and made room for the person I truly loved."

He looked at his current wife with a twisted sense of affection, completely ignoring the horrified expressions around him, "I had to make a choice for my own happiness. No one understands the sacrifices I've made for this family and for the sake of my love. It was the only way."

"If you hated my mother so much, why did you bother having me then?" You finally croaked, voice breaking as you choked back tears. Seonghwa pulled you close to him, never wanting you to go through any more pain alone.

Your father let out a scoff of displeasure, "I never wanted you. You were just another duty to please your mother's family. When she died, I refused to let any of them near you out of spite. You were a constant reminder of her, a spitting image that angered me every time I looked at you. That's why I hated you so much."

His admission hung heavily in the air, each word cutting through the silence like a knife. Your eyes, filled with sorrow, met his cold, callous gaze. Your husband tightened his hold on you, offering silent comfort as the painful truth unravelled.

"And there we have it, the confession His Majesty wanted. Royal Secretary Choi, did you manage to get all of that?" The general called out with a smirk.

To the minister's horror, the King's closest and most trusted aide emerged from the entrance, flanked by a team of royal guards, "I sure did, General Park. You've done well; we'll take it from here. His Majesty shall decide the Jang family's final sentencing."

« Preview of Part 10 »

As Eunsook followed her master's orders to assist you out of the hall and to the waiting carriage at once, your husband stayed behind to express gratitude to the dedicated private investigator.

"You've worked hard, Wooyoung. I assure you we will compensate you for your excellent performance. You didn't have to help us this far, but you did, and I appreciate it."

The younger man enthusiastically bowed, "It's my pleasure, sir! I'm a huge fan of yours; I think people don't appreciate you enough for defending our country! Those who think you are heartless are clearly mistaken. If only they'd seen you today. You are a wonderful husband, my lord. It's reassuring to know Lady Park has you."

Clearing his throat, the general looked away and fought the faint blush dusting his cheeks, "I'm glad you think so. I can only hope she thinks the same."

Wooyoung grinned, "I'm sure she does, my lord. I've seen how Lady Park looks at you; I can tell you mean a lot to her too," Seeing Jongho approaching to escort his master out, the informant bowed one final time, "It was an honour working for you, sir. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you ever need my services again!"

Seonghwa nodded appreciatively, "I'll keep that in mind."

Just as he turned to leave, the royal secretary came up to him, "Before you go, General Park, His Majesty wishes to meet you and Lady Park soon to discuss your actual wedding arrangements."

Nodding lightly, the general replied, "Got it, I'll see you then."

"Oh, and one last thing; I know you've both been through a lot, but the worst is over. I wish you and your wife happiness."

"Thank you, San."

Y'all I'm not even gonna lie, this part literally gave me a whole ass headache LMFAO I hope this felt satisfying enough! Of course, we still don't know what consequences the evil family are about to suffer muahaha😈

Also, the second mood board depicting the general's estate is out! Go take a look if you haven't already!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/5): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre

Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

858 notes · View notes

sylveon-official · 10 months ago

Text

thoughts on angel's heartbreak

viv has already said that angel is gonna get his heart broken sooo

i imagine husk pushes a boundary. we've already seen husk push angel's limits quite a few times. he's obviously really judgmental and i think that's one of his biggest flaws. it almost seems like a defense mechanism, that because he's already given up on himself, he doesn't want to waste angel's potential and so he's harder on him.

we've got tons of examples of this in masquerade, with husk calling him fake. and even in welcome to heaven when angel is considering taking drugs, husk totally plays a guilt trip - "go ahead if you wanna mess up all your progress, i just thought you were better than that"

i think that's how the 'heartbreak' is gonna happen. angel can't believe he's got a someone like husk in his life and he's so smitten, coming to terms with his feelings for husk and tentatively getting hopeful that they're reciprocated. like husk has built him up enough to the point that angel feels he can break down his walls around him, so they're getting closer, more flirtatious in a really sweet way, sometimes even a little touchy.

so imagine them being at this stage, where angel so fully trusts him, which is a big deal for him. and then angel fucks up real bad. he's been clean for almost 6 months and him and everyone else in the hotel are super proud. but after a hard day in the studio he just breaks and goes on an all night bender. like he's out so late husk starts to worry and texts him, but all he gets is a belligerent phone call like "huskYYY BAaaby don' worry i'm jus' out w the girls from the studio u should be here miss yoo-" and then some guy cuts in like "angelbaby, i thought you were gonna show me a good time?" and angel's like "mmm oh ya cmere daddy~" and the call cuts off.

husk is fuckin pissed, not just bc angel is off the wagon after making so much progress, but he's also jealous. like they were obviously heading in the direction of something more, or so he thought, but here's angel back to his old self-destructive habits, getting fucked up and fucking random guys.

the next day, husk finds angel passed out on the on the couch. usually he would wake him up with breakfast or coffee if he knew he'd had a long night at the studio, but this time he just rolls his eyes and gets to work on the bar, maybe stuffing glasses back into cabinets a little louder than usual.

that wakes angel up and he's like, "huuusk what the fuck couldya keep it down?"

"it's almost noon. don't you have something to do? or someone..." he mumbles the last part, but angel hears and is wide awake like, "fuckin' excuse me?"

"what? you don't remember callin' me last night? sounded like you scored a real charmer"

angel is stalking up to the bar getting embarrassed and defensive, "wtf? since when do you care who i'm fuckin' in my free time?"

"i guess since it obviously wasn't a choice you made entirely sober! what were you thinking?! you were clean 6 whole months, and you gave it up to what? snort coke off of some hunk's abs?!"

angel's mouth drops open and he doesn't know what to say but his heart stings. he knows he fucked up real bad, but it was a hard day and he guesses old habits die hard... it's his first real attempt at getting clean, and of course he's disappointed in himself. and honestly, he was planning on talking through it with husk, but now...

"well that is just rich coming from you," angel says, shaking, rolling his eyes in the direction of husk's bloody mary.

"yeah, well, i'm not the one trying to get into heaven-"

"fuck off with that shit husk! you don't think i know i fucked up?! i'm not an idiot! you don't gotta keep that line in your back pocket for every time i screw up! i already know it's fuckin' pointless, you don't need to keep reminding me, asshole, get over yourself!" and he starts storming off upstairs, eyes welling up.

husk does feel guilty, and wants to continue the conversation, but he's still firmly of the belief that if angel just pulls himself together, he's a shoo-in for redemption and it's frustrating to see him self-destruct after making more progress than ever before.

"angel, wait-"

"NO, fuck you husk!" angel turns around, tears streaming down his face, pointing an accusing finger. "i thought if anyone could understand, it'd be you! i know everyone else is gonna be disappointed in me, but you-" he pauses, gulps down his tears and steels his face, "i guess i don't know you as well as i thought i did" and then storms upstairs.

then angel would have a few consecutive weeks of totally self-destructive behavior on a whole new level than anyone else at the hotel had ever seen. maybe he even moves out of the hotel and back in with val, having given up not only on himself and his grand delusions of getting clean and redeemed, but also his "stupid school-girl crush" on husk.

this turned into something way longer than i intended lol, but my point is that since angel is gonna experience heartbreak we know it has to involve husk, and with husk's habit of guilt-tripping angel... i think it will need to blow up at some point and be seriously discussed.

i also think we need to see the 'it gets worse before it gets better' side of recovery bc obviously it's unrealistic that now that angel is a serious resident of the hotel, his addictions are just gonna magically disappear. and i think that's gonna cause some misunderstanding and turmoil with not only husk, but also our main cast.

#hazbin hotel #huskerdust #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust x husk #husk x angel dust #writing #thoughts

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eviesaurusrex · 1 year ago

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ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ | ʜ. ꜱᴛʏʟᴇꜱ

GIFs not mine!

Harry Styles x Wife!Reader

summary: Harry’s final show is over, and now the aftermath is hitting.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: crying, mentions of pregnancy (I couldn’t help it, sorry 👉🏻👈🏻), and dad-to-be!Harry, fluff, soft!reader, soft!Harry, more crying, just fluffness, not entirely proofread

author’s note: I only could watch parts of the livestream and saw videos on Twitter, and because I was so emotional over this, I had to write something. This is my first time writing in a while, so please bear with me, thaaaaanks

* * *

YN would have to lie if she told anybody her eyes were entirely dry over the course of his final show. No one would believe her anyway because the internet was full of evidence that she certainly had been crying—she had been a never-ending waterfall from the minute the intro had started, and Harry arrived on stage.

Maybe her hormones were already more chaotic and over the top than she had anticipated.

But seeing him falling to his knees, overwhelmed by all the emotions crashing down on him, seeing his loyal fans in numbers of thousands gathered to celebrate him and his last night on tour, also took her in. A moment after, she had found herself in the embraces of Anne and Gemma, all three women watching the man they loved so deeply and dearly doing what he loved the most while the venue cheered for him. It was an otherworldly moment, YN was sure of it. Her heart ached in astonishing proudness, in overwhelming love and devotion, but also in sympathy because the woman already knew how hard this was for Harry. He just loved his work just as much as he loved her. But she would be ready to catch him from falling and build him up again if he needed it.

Apparently, Harry’s goal tonight was to make this even more emotional than it already was, to ingrain it in her memory for all the years ahead of them, as he stood again and slowly, still in awe, walked back to the microphone stand, the Love Band in his back. YN only could wipe away the last fallen tears, her head resting against Anne’s shoulder, feeling Gemma’s head resting on hers, before Harry’s next words let new salty oceans well up in her already red eyes.

“This-this tour was the biggest adventure so far in my life, and-and I will be forever grateful for the experiences I was fortunate enough to have, thanks to all of you. I will never forget that. Never. But now—“ His still watery eyes searched through the crowds until he seemingly found her, a knowing smile stretching over his lips. “Now, I’ll aboard the grandest adventure of a lifetime, feeling prepared enough not to make a fool out of myself, for not letting this gorgeous, gorgeous woman—“ He pointed in her direction, and the fans screamed as some of them seemed to realize what he was telling them. “—down and disappoint her. You helped me to grow over the past two years, and becoming a dad isn’t so frightening anymore.” Now, everyone caught up to it, the venue boomed and buzzed with excitement, and YN couldn’t hold back the pent-up tears and the smile appearing on her face.

This really was a final show to behold.

“Thank you to all of you. I might be gone for a while, but I’ll come back with something magical. I promise. Stay true, stay wild, stay kind. Remember everything will be alright.”

* * *

It took almost two hours until YN saw Harry rounding the corner and walking toward her in their hotel room. She had already gotten ready for the night, had ordered dinner for them, and got the place as cozy as possible. They wouldn’t stay long here before finally heading to Harry’s Italian sanctuary, reveling in the endless amounts of free and uninterrupted time together, distressing from this incredible tour, and preparing everything for the new addition to their small family.

“Hey,” she whispered as Harry wordlessly sank to his knees in front of the bed, kneeling between her legs and resting his head against her chest. YN could hear him humming in contentment as her fingers started to card through his still-damp hair, not caring for the sweat clinging to him. “You were incredible. I am so, so proud.” She continued to whisper praise after praise, interrupted only by soft kisses to the top of Harry’s head until she felt his shoulders shake under her loving hands and the quiet sobs pressed out against her top. “Oh, baby…” Tightly, they held onto one another, feeling each other as closely as possible while he drenched her shirt in much-needed tears and never let go of her.

YN didn’t care a millisecond for her clothes and let him cry until the only sounds inside the hotel room were his heavy, shaky breaths and her soothing voice, whispering sweet nothings into his soft curls, against his forehead, his temple. She felt his strong hands on her back, his long fingers burying into the soft fabric of her shirt, which had been once his a long time ago. Not able to stop, YN continued to press kisses to every spot she could reach and gently guided him through the emotional turmoil of the aftermath as best as she could.

After some time, Harry inhaled deeply before a long, deep sigh released it again, his body now unmoving resting against hers, slowly relaxing in her embrace. In one moment, he was like warmed clay under her hands, molding perfectly against her, and in the next, his hands had wrapped her legs around his waist, and he carried her wordlessly into the adjacent bathroom, gently placing her on the bench next to the shower. YN knew he needed her close, even though he stepped under the warm water stream alone at first. Without so much as a second thought, she discarded the clothes, ignored the fact that she had already showered earlier, and stepped right behind him into the glass cabin.

Hands softly, lovingly, glided over his hips before arms wrapped themselves around it, a face pressed against his back, fingers slowly tracing every single dark inked line on warm skin. Featherlike kisses flew over his back, and she could hear him sigh again, still not saying a word, still contemplating the last hours. Another heavy, shaky inhale was the sign of the next set of tears, and now, he turned in her arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck, pulling her as closely as possible to hold onto something in the sea of overwhelming emotions.

“It’s okay, love. Let it out. I’m here,” YN could only mumble against his shoulder, feeling somewhat helpless and on the verge of crying herself while the hormones started to run havoc inside her once again. But she never had liked seeing him upset or even crying, to begin with, too empathetic not to be fazed by it. Most times, she had cried alongside him until they laughed under tears which had always changed the mood to something brighter. But now, YN felt it wasn’t her place to cry along, so she bottled it up, forcing the traitorous tears down and let her hand find his cheek to gently caress it with the pad of her thumb.

Harry mumbled something inaudible against her neck, grabbing her tighter than before. “Hm? What was that?” YN asked quietly, her words almost drowned by the still-running shower. “Don’t think I’m mourning this tour more than I want to spend time with you,” he repeated himself and pulled his head back to let their foreheads meet again. “My career isn’t more important than you. Or the family we’re starting.” Blinking stunned, YN softly furrowed her brows, slowly shaking her head. “I’d never think that,” she finally whispered, not sure where this came from all of a sudden. Her thumbs wiped away the remaining tears. “There wasn’t a single moment in the past eight years where I felt like a second choice. I never thought you prioritized your career over me. So… Never think that. Okay? We know we’re loved without measure, beyond compare, H.”

At that, Harry started to smile, eyes still watery, and placed one of his hands over the place where his second true love was safely growing. “Thank you, sunflower.” It was only a whisper, voice filled with wonder, as he looked down at the woman who had decided he was worthy enough for her love all those years ago and who had grown alongside him. And now she gifted him the most precious thing he could ever ask for: fatherhood with the woman he loved more than anything else at his side.

YN smiled up at him and let Harry kiss her softly. “Nothing to thank me for, love. It’s my job. I’ll always be here to catch you, just as I have always done.“ Mumbling against his lips, she couldn’t let go of him, but soon, she was wrapped in a fluffy towel, and Harry lovingly dried her hair, always watching her through the mirror above the sink with a loving expression. She watched him just as closely, seeing that one familiar spark of inspiration lighting up in his mesmerizing eyes, but he contained himself. YN couldn’t have any of that. “You can go and do your magic, y’know? Dinner should be here soon, and the little bean and I can entertain ourselves.” But she should’ve known better and allowed Harry to pull her back against his chest. “The music can wait. I need this. Need you. Time with you. Wanna talk about anything and everything. Want to talk to the little bean. I want to have dinner with my wife on the balcony. I want to sleep in with her tomorrow before we head out to the villa.”

Sometimes, YN couldn’t comprehend her luck, couldn’t comprehend how it was possible for someone to love another human so deeply. It was like a miracle.

Grinning, she let both brows wander up in question. “Have you ever thought about telling your fans that the Harry Styles is not only becoming a dad but is also a married man?” A chuckle escaped them at that, and she still wondered how they had been so successful in keeping secrets from the world. “Maybe after coming back,” he continued to chuckle as he bent down and kissed her right shoulder, his thumbs now sweeping over her skin like soft feathers.

The moment of contentedly looking at one another through the slightly fogged-up mirror was over as the sound of knuckles against the wooden hotel room door echoed through their rooms. Harry bent down once again, his index finger resting under her chin and turning her face to capture her lips in another kiss. He just couldn’t get enough of her. “I’ll set up dinner, and you’ll get cozy again, sunflower.”

And with that, he ventured out of the bathroom, leaving a smiling YN behind.

* * *

As usual: Thanks for reading, folks <3 If you like my work, I’d be very happy if you reblog it because reblogs are super great! And I love to hear your thoughts, so hit me up whenever and however you like

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ducktoo · 4 months ago

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Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

1. New life…as what now?

Note: primary vs secondary acc issue, repost it now to the right place. Enjoy!

Masterlist here

It had been years since Y/n left the relentless grind of trainee life behind him. It was a chapter he thought they'd never revisit—especially not from the outside looking in.

His new life had a quieter rhythm.

No more sprinting to dance practices or losing sleep memorising lyrics. Instead, Y/n had been picking up odd jobs in the entertainment industry—small gigs, freelance work, and most recently, running errands for people still in the idol bubble. Heck, he even finished his mandatory services the moment he left his early days.

Y/n stretched, basking in a rare moment of peace as he sat in a quiet café. The iced Americano sweating in front of him was untouched, but that wasn’t a surprise.

He weren’t really there to drink coffee. More like he was trying to figure out what came next. The timeframe of unemployment is real…

Sure, there were opportunities, but nothing that screamed "this is it!"

Just as his thoughts began to drift into existential territory, their phone buzzed on the table.

"SM CEO."

Y/n’s brow furrowed. SM? What could they possibly want? He hadn't stepped foot in that building since—

No time to dwell. He swiped to answer.

"Hello, sir?"

A crisp, professional voice on the other end greeted them, and Y/n immediately recognized it—the CEO he occasionally met during their trainee days. "Y/n, it’s been a while."

Y/n nodded, as if the person on the phone could see them. "Good morning sir. What’s up?"

"Ah, nothing too stressful. I just want to ask how would you feel about rejoining the team—"

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. "Wait, wait, wait," he interrupted, half-joking, half-anxious. "With all due respect, you’re not trying to re-sign me as a trainee, are you? I don’t think my back can handle another round of choreography."

The voice chuckled lightly. "No, no. Not as a trainee. We actually have a bit of a different proposition for you. It’s related to aespa."

"aespa?" That name hit Y/n like a sudden gust of wind.

aespa. The super rookies who had been making waves all over the industry and one of the biggest girl groups leading the 4th generation of K-pop.

And Winter… his mind went there instinctively.

While they still regularly talked to each other, he remembered he was adamant about leaving his past trainee life behind and pursue blue collar jobs. Winter was someone Y/n had trained alongside before she debuted.

Y/n felt a pang of nostalgia—mixed with a little guilt. He didn’t want to be a disappointment to his childhood friend. "what about them?"

“Wait, hold up… what?”

The words felt stuck in Y/n’s throat, awkwardly lodged between disbelief and mild panic. The fluorescent lights above the SM CEO’s office flickered softly, adding to the sense of surrealistic reality. Y/n’s palms felt clammy as the director continued with that calm, almost amused smile, the kind that said, "Welcome to the deep end of the pool—good luck swimming."

“You’re going to manage aespa,” the director said again, this time like he was offering Y/n a cup of coffee, not rearranging his entire life.

Y/n blinked, their mind working overtime to piece together what was just said. “Manage… as in… manage manage?” He tried to keep their voice steady, but the end of the sentence squeaked out a little too much. It didn’t help that the director just nodded, nonchalant as ever.

"Yes. You're aware we're short-staffed, and your background as a trainee means you're already familiar with how the company operates. Their current manager had to step down suddenly due to health reasons, and we need someone to step in on short notice. Someone familiar with the company’s ways and preferably, someone who’s worked with Winter before. That’s where you come in."

Y/n’s heart did a weird flip. Of all the things he had expected—maybe helping out behind the scenes, doing some coordination work—this was not it. Y/n was barely done figuring out their own path, and now he had to figure out the path for one of K-pop’s biggest girl groups?

The panic was rising, but Y/n swallowed hard, trying to keep it together. “B-but, I was just a trainee before this.. I've never took any management courses before?”

The director leaned forward slightly, folding his hands together. “Yet, that experience as a trainee means you know about the idols' health and wellbeing more than everyone else. Everything else you can definitely learn on the job.”

"B-but-"

"And we think it will be better as well considering you and Minjeong auditioned together and got in together."

Ah right, Winter and Y/n were childhood friends. Sure, managing her wouldn't be too hard considering god knows how long they hung out together, but the rest of the members? Just the thought of it made Y/n gulped.

"Don't worry, the other managers will teach you your role. Red Velvet's manager will brief you after our talk." The director stood up, signalling the end of the conversation. “Your first day starts tomorrow. Get some rest tonight.”

Leaving Y/n alone in the room, he thought "…Minjeong will have a fcking field day with this…”

Y/n hadn’t slept a wink. The alarm clock was practically taunting them as it beeped at 6 a.m., the early start not unusual in idol life.

If the old Y/n—back when he was a trainee—had thought the pace of idol life was fast, stepping into a manager’s shoes was like jumping onto a bullet train already at full speed. There was no time to get acclimated, no luxury of easing into the role. Y/n showed up to the SM building the very next morning, and the minute he stepped through those familiar glass doors, the whirlwind began.

"Y/n, good to see you again!" One of the staff greeted them, barely pausing for pleasantries as she handed them a clipboard. "Here’s aespa’s schedule for the next two days. Red Velvet's manager will teach you today, but from tomorrow onwards, it’s all on you."

Y/n blinked, scanning the clipboard. Music show rehearsal. Commercial shoot. Dance practice. Fan sign event. And that was just before lunch on day one. "Wow… this is… intense," he muttered under their breath.

The staff member laughed. "Welcome to the life of an idol manager. You’ll get used to it."

He wasn’t ready for this. Hell no.

Yet, somehow, at 8:45 a.m., Y/n found himself standing outside aespa’s practice room, a bundle of nerves in the pit of their stomach. Through the glass window, Y/n could see the four girls, laughing about something, stretching, and getting ready to practice, while Red Velvet's manager briefing them their schedules and began to introduce their new manager.

This was going to be weird. Y/n hadn’t been around the group since the trainee days, and even then, he had been on the outside looking in. Minjeong… oh god, Minjeong. He really didn't tell her anything about this new role, just hinting that he got a job.

"Deep breath," Y/n muttered to themselves. It was just a job. Just another day.

As he opened the door, the laughter in the room died down almost instantly. Four sets of eyes turned to Y/n, and the tension hung in the air like fog. Karina stood in the centre, arms folded, eyebrows raised slightly as if sizing up an opponent.

"So," she said, voice cool and composed, "you’re our new manager?"

Y/n nodded stiffly, offering a small wave that felt ridiculously out of place. "Uh, yeah. That’s me. Jung Y/n. Lovely to meet you all.”

Winter, who had been doing some light stretches, straightened up when she recognized Y/n. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she let out a small laugh. "Wait, Y/n?!"

Y/n tried to relax, giving Winter a sheepish smile and a peace sign. "Y-yo"

Winter’s easy laughter filled the room, lightening the mood, if only slightly. "Ya, idiot! Is this why you didn't say anything about your new job?."

"Yeah, well, I guess." Y/n shrugged. "How are you doing tho?"

"More happy now that I know that you're working with us!" Winter beamed. "This is really too funny kekekeke"

While Winter was dying in the background at the revelation, Karina’s sharp gaze hadn’t shifted. She looked Y/n up and down, her scepticism almost tangible. "No offense, but… how much experience do you have managing?"

Y/n inwardly winced but kept their face neutral. "Well, this is my first time officially managing, but I’ve trained with the company for years. I know how things work on both sides, so…"

Karina didn’t seem convinced. She didn’t say anything, but the silence spoke volumes. Ningning and Giselle exchanged glances, sensing the subtle tension in the room.

Giselle, always the bigger person, stepped in, trying to ease the awkwardness. "It’ll be fine, unnie. Y/n’s got this. I mean, he survived SM’s training system, right?"

Karina shrugged, finally breaking eye contact. "We’ll see."

Y/n’s phone buzzed for what felt like the thousandth time, and He resisted the urge to hurl it into the nearest trash can. "This cursed fing- I mean, object"

This is fine.

Everything is fine. Sure, his first official day as aespa’s manager had turned into a whirlwind of chaos, but Y/n had told himself he’d survive the day. It was all about staying calm.

Except, calm was nowhere to be found, and the more he tried to navigate their new responsibilities, the more everything spiralled out of control.

The morning had started deceptively smooth. He arrived at SM early, clipboard in hand, ready to tackle the day. A smile even broke out when he saw the group filing into the van, chirpy with coffee and morning energy. But, as soon as Y/n opened the daily schedule on their phone, his stomach sank.

Wrong rehearsal room.

The worst way to f*ck it up as well. Misread the number 7 for 1.

"Uh... okay, small problem," Y/n muttered to themselves before looking at the girls. "So, it turns out I booked the wrong practice room this morning."

Giselle, who was squished between Ningning and Winter in the van, looked up from her phone, raising an eyebrow. "Wait, you’re telling me we’re going to a room that doesn’t exist?"

Y/n winced. "No, it exists. It's just... not available.”

Ningning leaned forward with a smirk. "So what, we practice in the parking lot? That could be fun. Maybe film a TikTok."

"That's actually a fire idea" Y/n thought.

"Please don't give her ideas," Karina groaned from the front seat. She glanced at Y/n through the rearview mirror. "So... what’s the backup plan, manager-nim?"

Y/n felt the weight of the title more than ever in that moment. Being called "manager" was still weird, like wearing a jacket that didn’t quite fit. "Uh, we’ll use one of the smaller rooms for now, just for today. I’ll sort it out. Sorry about that, team."

"Just for today?" Giselle echoed with a teasing grin. "Good to know we’ve got a professional in charge."

Y/n sighed. This was going to be a long day.

By the time they arrived at the practice room, the energy had shifted. The smaller rehearsal space had a cozy feel, but "cozy" was just a nice way of saying cramped. The mirrors barely covered one wall, and the air-conditioning was struggling to keep up with the summer heat.

The girls, to their credit, didn’t complain much—well, except for Giselle, who Y/n could always count on for a sarcastic comment or two…and Karina who didn't need any words but Y/n knew he would be skinned alive after bed.

"Well, I guess we’re all gonna sweat out our souls in here," Giselle said as she dropped her bag onto the floor and stretched her arms above her head. "Thanks, Y/n. Really starting the day off right."

Winter shot Y/n a glance, her mouth twitching into a faint smile. "It’s fine, don’t worry. We’ve practiced in worse places."

Y/n appreciated the attempt at reassurance, but the guilt still gnawed at them. He was supposed to make things easier for aespa, not complicate their day with rookie mistakes. Even worse with him thinking his trainee days would help.

So much for better understanding of the girls.

As the group started their warm-ups, Y/n made a mental note to double-check all bookings going forward. He couldn’t afford to mess up again—not with Karina giving them those mildly skeptical looks every few minutes. It was like she was silently judging every move Y/n made.

"Great. Just what I need—her thinking I’m completely useless." Y/n sighed.

Things hit a new low when Y/n tried to connect their phone to the rehearsal room's speakers, but the Wi-Fi password wasn’t working. Panic started creeping up their spine as they stared at the screen.

Y/n wanted to hit his head into a wall right this instant.”

"Hey, Y/n, we’re ready for the playlist," Karina called out from across the room. "Are you good?"

"Yeah, uh... Just a sec." Y/n tapped the password again, slower this time, but it still didn’t connect. "What the—"

Giselle leaned against the wall, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the show. "Let me guess—you forgot the password? Or did you set it to ‘password123’ like a true professional?"

Y/n shot her a look, trying to hide the growing anxiety. "It’s the building Wi-Fi. I swear it’s not my fault."

"Sure, sure." Giselle’s grin widened. "No problem. We’ll just dance in silence. You know, like marionettes."

Winter chuckled softly, while Ningning chimed in. "Oooh, I love silent discos! We could start a trend."

While Y/n cracked a smile at Ningning's genius revelation once again, Karina sighed, crossing her arms. "Just use the Bluetooth on the portable speaker for now. We don’t have time to waste."

"Un-unnie" Winter whimpered, sensing that her leader began to get frustrated. "We don't need to rush, Y/n's just getting used to it."

"Jeong, it's ok." Y/n reassured. "Karina, good idea. I got the speaker just in case."

Y/n scrambled to connect his phone via Bluetooth, heart racing as the group exchanged amused glances. As much as he tried to take the ribbing in stride, Y/n couldn’t help but feel like every little mistake was another nail in their managerial coffin.

First the wrong room, now this…

Finally, the music blasted from the portable speaker, and Y/n sighed in relief. The girls began running through their choreography, their focus quickly shifting back to the dance routine. As the familiar beats filled the small room, Y/n retreated to the side, trying to steady their nerves with a big gulped.

By midday, Y/n was juggling three things at once: updating the afternoon’s schedule, figuring out lunch arrangements, and fielding a call from the media team about an upcoming interview. He was so deep in thought, he didn’t even notice Ningning creeping up behind them.

"Boo."

Y/n flinched, nearly dropping their phone. "Motherf- Yizhuo!"

She laughed, hands on her hips. "Relax, Y/n-oppa. You’re doing fine. We’re all still alive, and no one’s collapsed yet. I’d say that’s a win."

Y/n exhaled, rubbing their temples. "Yeah, barely."

"Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. This job isn’t easy. Plus, we’ve all made mistakes. I mean, did you know I once went to a music show wearing mismatched shoes? Like, two completely different shoes."

Y/n blinked. "Huh, seriously?"

"Yep," Ningning grinned. "And no one noticed until halfway through the performance."

"Is there a fancam of it at least?"

"Oh, there are plenty of that for you."

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing just a little. "Okay, maybe that makes me feel slightly better."

"Good." She clapped Y/n on the back. "You’ll get the hang of it, oppa. Just remember—you’re not the only one winging it half the time. We are too."

Before Y/n could respond, Karina’s voice interrupted them from across the room. "Y/n! Can we confirm the interview time for this afternoon?"

Y/n checked the schedule on their phone, tapping quickly before calling back, "Yeah, it’s at 2:00. I’ll make sure we’re on time."

Karina nodded, her expression unreadable as she went back to the group, but Y/n caught the faintest flicker of something that might’ve been approval.

"Okay, maybe I haven’t totally screwed up yet." Y/n did a small dance in celebration.

As the morning stretched into afternoon, Y/n found himself slowly settling into the role. Sure, it was still overwhelming, and they felt like they were constantly playing catch-up, but Giselle’s light-hearted teasing and Winter’s quiet-not-so-quiet encouragement kept them going. Even Ningning, who couldn’t resist poking fun at Y/n’s blunders, made the chaos a little more bearable.

By the time the group wrapped up their rehearsals and headed to their interview, Y/n felt a small surge of relief. They had made it through the first half of the day without any major disasters. Maybe this whole manager thing wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

As they entered the interview room, Y/n stood near the back, watching as the girls took their places on the set. Cameras clicked, lights flashed, and the media team buzzed around them. Y/n checked their phone one more time, going over the rest of the day’s schedule. Double checking always works.

Karina, standing just off camera, glanced over at Y/n with a small, almost imperceptible nod. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a step in the right direction.

The clock on the wall ticked past midnight, and the hallway lights cast a soft glow over the exhausted aespa members as they stumbled into the dormitory. Their faces were flushed from the intensity of the day’s rehearsals, but there was a shared sense of relief in finally being off their feet. The practice room doors creaked open, revealing the calm haven of their living quarters.

Karina immediately went into her room to get changed.

Giselle frantically searched for a protein bar in their pantry.

Ningning plopped on the couch and groaned about the schedule.

And Winter noticed Y/n immediately headed to the kitchen. Already had a smile, she knew tonight will be a feast.

During his trainee days, the kitchen had become a sort of sanctuary for Y/n, a place where the clamour of the day’s chaos could be momentarily forgotten. Tonight, the giant pans of cheesy instant ramen unveiling the moment the lid opened was a beacon of comfort. The rich aroma of sauce and steaming noodles wafted through the air, promising a moment of respite.

Of course, it got the members' attention, and their tired eyes lit up at the sight of the pans of ramen. It was a welcoming sight, and their stomachs growled in unison.

Y/n’s presence in the kitchen, with his sleeves rolled up and a focused look on their face, was a stark contrast to the frenetic energy they had witnessed throughout the day.

“Y/n, you rock,” Giselle said, her voice filled with gratitude as she took a seat at the kitchen table. “I didn’t think I’d make it through the day without something like this.”

Ningning, always enthusiastic about food, followed suit and perched herself on a nearby stool. “Seriously, we owe you one. Our kitchen doesn’t usually get this kind of late-night love.”

Winter, the resident annoyance to her childhood friend, leaned against the counter and eyed Y/n with a playful smirk. “So, did you have this bougee ramen this much when you were a trainee too when I wasn't around? Or did you just eat instant noodles and subconsciously dream about becoming our manager?”

Y/n chuckled, stirring the noodles with practiced ease. “Oh, shush you. Buldak was basically my best friend during those days. It was either ramen or cereal for dinner.”

Karina, intrigued, raised an eyebrow. “Cereal for dinner? That’s a new one. What was your go-to flavor?”

“Plain old,” Y/n admitted with a grin. “It was the closest thing I could get to comfort food. Plus, it’s surprisingly filling when you’re too tired to care about anything else.”

Winter burst into laughter, nudging Y/n playfully. “I can just picture you in your trainee days, sitting in a tiny room, eating cereal straight from the box, dreaming about making it big. Did you ever think you’d end up here with us?”

"Hell no." Y/n’s expression softened, a nostalgic glint in their eyes. “Honestly, I had my doubts. It was a tough time, but moments like these make it all worth it. I’m just glad to be here with all of you.”

As the ramen finished cooking, Y/n ladled the pan into plates and handed them out. The group gathered around the table, their laughter and chatter filling the room. It wasn’t just about the food; it was about the camaraderie, the shared experiences, and the understanding that they were all in this together.

Giselle took a generous slurped and sighed contentedly. “This is exactly what we needed. I didn’t realize how much I missed simple yet fancy comforts like this.”

Ningning, already twirling noodles around her chopsticks, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, the practice room is great and all, but there’s something about a late-night cheesy ramen session that just makes everything feel right.”

Y/n took a quick slurp as well, and he banged the table in excitement. "That's how you live the life, man!"

Winter’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Anyway Y/n, give us some bed time story and let us hear your side of our trainee stories.”

"You don't tell them? Unless the early days wasn't unveil yet."

"Yep, and they can hear it directly from you."

Y/n laughed softly, shaking their head. “Oh, where to begin? Let’s just say my trainee days were filled with a lot of ramen, cereal, and endless hours of practice with this doof" He pointed at Winter. "There were days when I’d practice with Minjeong for so long that I’d fall asleep in the studio…. While my childhood friend here just left me and went home.”

While Ningning laughed at the last remark, Karina’s eyes widened in surprise, but regained her distance. “You’d fall asleep in the studio? That sounds rough.”

Y/n nodded, smiling at the memory. “Yeah, I’d be so exhausted that I’d just crash wherever I could. Sometimes, I’d wake up to find the other trainees laughing at me because I’d fallen asleep on the floor in some awkward position.”

Y/n sighed, thinking about those days "Also, I cooked for Jeong here like all the time. We’d spend hours in the practice room, and when the sessions were over, we’d retreat to the dorm’s kitchen. I was always the one cooking because this girl saw the recipe online and wanted me to make it.”

Winter chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ya, you're my eternal lab rat, Y/n. Remember that time you tried to cook a proper meal for us, and I ended up almost burning the place down?”

Y/n laughed, shaking their head. “Jeezus, don't even get me started. You were determined to help, but your idea of ‘helping’ involved a lot of questionable seasoning. It was a proper experiment gone wrong. I vomited all of that after I lost the rock-paper-scissors, and Minjeong laughed like a maniac."

Karina leaned in, clearly intrigued. It was the first time Karina took interested in the new manager today. “Wait, so Y/n was cooking for Winter all the time? What did you cook for her?"

Giselle nodded, her curiosity piqued. “Damn, girl, you got a private chef all this time?" She poked Minjeong's cheek, who was totally flustered at her statement.

Y/n smiled, lost in the memories. “Jeong and I had this routine. After a long day of training, we’d both be starving and exhausted. I’d take over the kitchen because I never trust her for….well, ever. She’d stand by, throwing whatever she found online while I tried to save whatever we had.”

Winter laughed, nodding in agreement. “Y/n was actually really good at cooking. He’d whip up something edible and often surprisingly delicious. I mostly just munch and tried not to set off the smoke alarm.”

Giselle’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “That sounds like something I’d do. Ya, remember when Ningning tried to make ramen on her own and ended up setting off the fire alarm?”

Ningning’s cheeks turned a shade of red, but she laughed along with the rest. “Hey, in my defence, I was trying to add some ‘extra’ ingredients. Let’s just say I got a little carried away with the chili flakes.”

Winter’s eyes widened in mock horror, slapping Y/n's back aggressively as she remembered something. “Oh, and Jimin-unnie's cooking experiment that ended up with the entire dorm smelling like burnt popcorn for days.”

Karina rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “I was trying to make popcorn, okay? It was my first attempt at cooking.”

The group burst into laughter, their earlier exhaustion momentarily forgotten. Y/n joined in, their laughter blending with the sounds of the group’s mirth. The kitchen, usually a place for quick meals and late-night snacks, had become a space for shared stories and genuine connection.

As the conversation flowed, the stories grew more personal. Karina recounted her struggles with maintaining a rigorous training schedule while trying to stay connected with her family. Ningning shared her experiences of adapting to life in Korea and the culture shock she had felt when she first arrived. Giselle talked about the pressure of being one of the older trainees and the challenges of balancing expectations with her own ambitions.

Y/n listened intently, their heart swelling with appreciation for the group’s openness. The whole day was genuinely suffocating for Y/n and he glad his cooking opened up to them. It was a moment of vulnerability and camaraderie, a chance for everyone to connect on a deeper level.

Winter leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “You know, it’s crazy to think about how far we’ve all come. Sometimes, it feels like just yesterday we were all trainees, struggling to make it through each day.”

Ningning nodded, her eyes reflecting a mix of nostalgia and determination. “Yeah, but look at us now. We’ve made it through the tough times and come out stronger.”

"Well, you four did for a while." Y/n pointed. "I just started."

"Aish, you know what I'm saying" Ningning brushed it off.

As the last of the ramen was devoured and the plates were set aside, the group settled into a comfortable silence. The kitchen, once filled with the noise of preparation and conversation, now hummed with a quiet sense of contentment. It was a moment of peace, a pause in the whirlwind of their busy lives—a small, perfect slice of normalcy in their extraordinary world.

Winter, sensing the serene atmosphere, broke the silence with a softer tone. “Thanks for doing this, Manager. It really means a lot to us.”

Y/n stared. "Ya, you're just gonna tease me and call me manager after that heartfelt dinner?"

"I'm being serious, this guy.." Winter glared. "We know that the sudden career change is rough for you. But all things considered….you aced it."

Y/n smiled at the thumbs up from everyone, even including the hard-to-approach Karina.

As the night wore on, the group slowly began to disperse to their shared room, their energy restored by the comforting presence of good food and good company. Y/n watched them go, their heart full with a sense of fulfillment. This was what it was all about—connecting, sharing, and growing together.

With the kitchen finally quiet, Y/n began to clean up, their movements slow and deliberate. The pot was washed, the plates stacked neatly, and the remnants of the meal cleared away. The kitchen, now returned to its usual state of order, seemed to hold the echoes of laughter and conversation, a testament to the bond that had been strengthened over a simple late-night snack.

As Y/n finished tidying up, he glanced at the clock and realized it was nearly 2 a.m. The day had been long, but it had ended on a high note. With a contented sigh, Y/n turned off the lights and began to head out to go home.

However, as he was heading towards the front door, a hand tugged his sleep. It was Winter.

"Hey, are you ok?" Her voice was full of concern. While she didn't say much, she knew today was tough for Y/n, especially under the eyes of her leader.

"Yea, I'm ok. What's wrong?"

"I know that Jimin-unnie has been…rough on you…but please don't hate her too much" She held on Y/n's hand, clearly whimpering and shaking from her hand. "She was just looking out for us. Things were especially tough these days even with our old manager."

"Aish, cmon I'm not that petty." Y/n wiped her tears. "Normal person would've been angry with me already considering how many times I fcked up. So Karina was already being the nicest possible she can be."

"B-but I don't want you to feel down and leave again…"

Y/n swore his heart skipped a beat after that confession. "Aish, I'll never leave you like before, Minjeong. Trust me on this."

"Really?" Winter hiccuped.

"Yes, crybaby." That made Y/n earned a kick to the shin from Winter, who cackled afterwards hearing her nickname.

#aespa #aespa x reader #aespa karina #aespa winter #aespa giselle #aespa ningning #kpop #karina #winter #giselle #ningning #kim minjeong #yoo jimin #aeri uchinaga #ning yizhuo #x reader #aespa x you #aespa x male reader

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keys-hellscape-1020 · 6 months ago

Text

4 times you meet Red Robin, 1 time you meet Tim Drake

A/N: Sorry for disappearing these last few months. I’m not dead but I am in a serious depressive episode and you know what that means. Time to write.

Content warnings: Angst, Kidnapping, reader dissociates, they don’t get along at first, eventual fluff, this is my first time writing for Tim sorry if he’s OOC, uhhh cursing probably, let me know if I missed anything

Soulmate!Tim Drake x Soulmate!gn!Reader

————

From your seat on the frosty park bench you watch the thin red thread bob in the winter wind, lit only by the pale light that is filtering down from the streetlight above you. You watch the string dance with mild interest, jerking your pinky at random intervals to make it flutter one way or another. No matter which way it sways however, you know where it will always lead. To your soulmate.

His name is Red Robin, or in other words, Tim Drake. One of the richest men in Gotham who just so happens to also be a crime fighting vigilante. A closely guarded secret that you only know thanks to a subtle design flaw in the universe. Television.

Ever since the third Robin made his first official appearance you knew. You could see the red strand trailing off his pinky, and, upon asking your father, discovered it was only you who could see it. It was at that moment, all of 14 years old, that you unofficially met your soulmate. It was at that moment, that your life was permanently altered, for better or worse.

At first, your stomach kicked in excitement. Your soulmate was a vigilante! You simply couldn’t belive your luck. You scoured the internet for any information on him, becoming one of his biggest fans in a matter of hours.

Your obsession lasted all of a few months. It came to a screeching halt when a photo of Robin kissing Spoiler was leaked. You felt your heart break, the pieces jumping up into your throat to choke you on your own disappointment and sadness.

The worst part? You knew you had no right to feel the way you did. Robin had no clue you even existed. His soulmate could be half way across the world and it become clear to you that he wasn’t intent on finding them. On finding you.

In that moment of heartbreak and spite you made a choice that would follow you for years to come. If Robin didn’t want to find you, you didn’t want to find Robin.

It wasn’t until several years later, when you were watching a broadcast of a Wayne gala out of sheer desperation to cure your crippling boredom that you first laid eyes on Tim Drake.

You sat in bored silence, letting the stream playing on your computer become background noise as you mindlessly scrolled through your phone, when suddenly an interview playing on your computer catches your attention. A man in a sleek suit with a face that you’re sure you’ve seen on tiktok before is leaning next to a man that you only recognize thanks to the name edited over the video for the sake of the viewers. Tim Drake, isn’t that guy a millionaire or something?

Pulling your attention back to the video, the interviewer is questioning him at record speed and Drake, for his credit, looks entirely unbothered. If it weren’t for the quickly concealed circles under his eyes and the way he periodically glances over his shoulder with a glazed over look, you might even say he’s enjoying the night.

As you watch Drake be interviewed, a dancing red string in the background catches your eye, stealing your breath. You watch it flitter in the background behind Drake’s head, almost as if it’s teasing you, daring you to do something with the information you now posses. You watch as Drake goes to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, the small knotted string on his pinky finger unknowingly showing you the identity of Red Robin. It crossed your mind for a half second that they may be different people, but a quick google search reinforced what you already knew. Two different soulmates produced two different strings. You very clearly only had one.

You had laid awake all night, wondering if this changed anything, questioning if you should do something with this information. You couldn’t tell anyone, you knew that for certain. That might put him in danger and despite not even knowing the man personally, despite every fraction of your heart telling you to hurt him in anyway you could for what he’d done to you, you knew that you couldn’t live with yourself if he came to harm because of you.

And so, you bit your tongue, swallowed the ever burning desire to track down your soulmate, if only to scream in his face, and continued on with your life. Whenever the urge to track him down reared its ugly head you reminded yourself of the many photos you’d seen of him kissing someone, someone much more attractive than you. Someone who can keep up with him. Someone better. Why in the world would he want you?

The months after you found out Red Robin’s identity flew by, and despite having come to terms with it months ago, tonight you couldn’t sleep. Your room seemed to suffocate you, urging you to get some fresh air, the window of your room proving insufficient even when you stuck your whole torso out of it. It was at this point that you decided to go out, nighttime in Gotham be damned. You’d lived here your entire life, you could deal with a few muggers. And so you wrapped yourself up in a thick winter jacket over your pjs, complete with a scarf and gloves, making sure to slip some pepper spray into your pocket, where it would be easily accessible should you need it.

Nighttime in Gotham can be strangely peaceful at times, large buildings cast dark shadows which are only illuminated by weak streetlights, and depending on where you are in the city it can even be something close to quiet. You walk slowly, your boots crunching through the thin layer of ice and snow, as you navigate your way to the park.

The cold air feels nice on your face as you sit on a park bench, watching your string. Your head leaning against the back on the bench, taking in the sight of unlit buildings around you. After several minutes of sitting there in silence you finally decide to stand, a strange tingle on the back of your neck seeming to urge you towards home.

It’s only when you begin to turn that you notice the man behind you.

Before you can even register what’s going on you’ve switched the safety lock of your pepper spray and are spraying it directly into the eyes of the man with a shriek of fear.

You’re to stunned to speak as you shuffle back as quickly as possible, tripping over yourself in your panic, leaving you on your back, your pepper spray the last line of defense between you and… Red Robin? You let out a pathetic whimper of shock, which at any other moment would’ve left you horribly embarrassed but right now you’re too confused to feel anything else.

He lets out a muffled “Shit!” As he wipes at his face with the back of his glove. You stand and reflexively hand him a tissue from your pocket.

“S-Sorry.” You stutter out, watching the string cautiously float between you two in shock.

He gratefully takes the tissues and wipes his face with it, “Ah, it’s okay. The mask got most of it, just startled me was all.” He says tiredly, flashing you a weary half smile that has you feeling unfortunately weak in the knees.

“I uh-“ you find yourself at an unfortunate loss for words as you stumble through what you should say, fantasies of what you would do when you finally got the chance to meet this man face to face fleeing your mind in an instant now they you were actually in the moment.

“Are you okay?” He asks, blotted out eyes staring at you in what seems to be concern.

“Y-yeah… yeah uh… sorry I thought you were gonna try and kidnap me or something…” you said awkwardly, suddenly finding the ground very interesting as a sense of painfully strong embarrassment rushes through you.

“I knew I shouldn’t have approached you from behind.” He mutters quietly, more to himself than anything else.

“You were watching me?” You ask, creasing your eyebrows at him in concern. A hot spark of fury snaps to life in your chest. First this man breaks your heart, and then he decides to stalk you?

You swear you see him flush bright red underneath his mask. “No- no! Well, uh, actually yes- but not like that!” He stumbles through his words. “I just uh, thought you might be hurt or something, and then I uh- I saw your string and well I just thought I should say something.” He trails off awkwardly.

“Well then, what did you want to say?” You ask him, the spark of anger growing, fueled by all the painful memories that you’d acquired through the years.

“O-oh.” He looks genuinely startled for a moment at your outburst, and you would’ve felt bad had all the memories of how it felt to have to watch your soulmate flourish without you, how painful it was, not flashed through your mind.

“Well I honestly didn’t think that far ahead.” He says softly, almost shyly, as he looks at his feet and you hate how his cuteness causes butterflies to churn in your stomach. You let out a low hum as you consider your options, doing your best to ignore how adorable he looks as he glances at you and fidgets with his gloves.

“I’ve known.” You say calmly, calculatedly. If you played your cards right you could cause him a lot more pain than yelling at him ever would.

He looks up at you, a hit of confusion and concern in his voice. “Known what?” He asks.

“Tim Drake and Red Robin have one very striking similarity.” You say calmly, taking a few steps down the road that would eventually lead you home. You look back to see if he’s following and sure enough he is. You wag your pinkie at him in response.

“Ah.” He says simply, his shoulders tending.

“Relax, I’ve known for months. If I was gonna tell anyone I would’ve.” You say curtly as you begin walking home once more.

“How did you find out? Why bring it up now?” He phrases his questions as just that, questions, but you know that if you fail to answer truthfully he’ll find out quicker than you could blink. You’d looked into him over the years.

“T.V.” You say simply. “String showed up on it. As for why I brought it up, as of a few months ago Tim Drake hard launched his relationship with Bernard Dowd on Instagram. I’d be willing to bet money that the relationship had been going on for a while before that. That’d put you at dating for what, about 8 months now?” You look at him for false confirmation, you know you’re right. His shoulders are tense and you’re sure you’re receiving a scalding glare from behind his mask. You can’t help but grin in satisfaction. It’s seems your research paid off.

You see your apartment complex off in the distance and turn to face him once more. “This is all to say, you’re dating someone. What’s the real reason you approached me? Troubles in paradise?” You hum, you know you’re being nothing short of cruel right now but after watching this man completely disregard you, not care, or maybe just not realize that his soulmate would have to watch him live life without a care in the world for them, well you couldn’t help but think it was deserved.

He grinds his jaw as he looks at you. “We broke up. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Ahh so you intended to have me be a rebound then?” You snort and look him up and down. In all your years of watching him live life without you you’d never seen him look so tense. “Well as lovely as this was, I have to wake up early tomorrow. Nice talkin’ to you bird boy.” You turn around and start walking into your apartment building. You glance behind you and see Red Robin standing where you left him, staring at you, his jaw locked tight and his mouth downtrodden in a frown. You can’t help but feel a spark of well earned satisfaction at the sight.

————

You really thought chewing him out would make you feel better. You truly did. Instead all it did was make you feel guilty. You can’t even pin-point the cause of the guilt churning in your stomach, making you feel all the worse. You almost wish that he’d announce another relationship so you could feel justified. On the other hand seeing article on article about his newest love might finally drive you to the brink of insanity. Assuming you could still call yourself sane at this point.

Every night after dusk when you leave to do absolutely anything, you can see a shadow of a figure following you around. You’re sure it’s Drake, it has to be. You’ve studied videos of him and other Robins, compared and contrasted, you know how every one of those vigilantes move compared to each other and there’s only one who has the minor tells you keep seeing out of the corner of your eyes.

Red Robin. The string leading right to him just confirms your theory. He must think it’s not worth the effort to hide himself, the string would give him away no matter what. So instead he’s making sure that whenever you leave the safety of your home you know he’s there. You pour over why in your mind, you even consider the idea that he’s protecting you but in the end even just thinking the idea cause a spark of humor in you. No he must have some other motivation, perhaps making sure you know he has the upper hand? Perhaps showcasing that you can’t hide from him?

Whatever the reason, you’re sure that you’ll find out soon. He’s been getting gradually closer over the last week and a half he’s been following you. Tonight he’s been less than half a block away at all times. Every moment that you’ve been walking to and from the convince store you’ve noticed the shadow.

You’ve never been more terrified in your life.

You know you have no real reason to be. You know that he can’t wound you or bring you into the police. He has no reason and you haven’t given him anything to frame you with, at least, not to your knowledge. That’ll have to be your only comfort for now.

The subject of your fears is about to be confronted as you purposefully turn into an alleyway that you commonly avoid during the night, just as you excepted, the moment you’re half way in you hear the soft sound of feet landing behind you. You’re certain it’s only a pleasantry.

You steel your nerves as much as possible as you turn to face Red Robin. He’s looking at you with a dark expression that you can’t quite place, it causes a drumming of unease in your stomach and you can feel your heartbeat picking up in your chest. You wring your hands together tightly before crossing them over your chest.

“Can I help you.” You ask coldly, keeping your voice low.

“I wanted to talk.” He says calmly, approaching you carefully, calculatedly.

For every step he takes you take two back, and he quickly gets the message and stops approaching. He holds out his hands as if approaching a scared animal. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

You can’t help a short, sour, laugh from rising in you. “We got off on the wrong foot years ago when I had to watch you pretend I didn’t exist.” You grit out from inbetween your teeth. “When I had to watch you fuck around in those relationships.” A tiny voice in the back of your mind screeches that you’re being stupid. Melodramatic. That nows your chance to get to know him. You ignore it. “We got off on the wrong foot when I told you to fuck off and you took it as an invitation to stalk me for a week and half!” You‘re getting angrier and angrier, hiding your unease and sadness behind a thick later of rage, as you had for years now.

You’re pacing, back and forth, back and forth, walking on an invisible tightrope before him, trying to calm yourself, to think rationally. It seems that Drake’s very presence however limits your ability to do so. You scratch at the nape of your neck, trying to center yourself.

His eyes widen in shock, as if he hadn’t even thought of the possibility that you’ve know he was your soulmate for years. He shakes the shock off much quicker than you’d like before he speaks. “I wasn’t stalking you-“ he begins, holding his hand out as a sign of peace. “I wanted to say something, I just didn’t know what.”

“So you decided following me around was the best course of action.” You say with a scoff.

He unconsciously copies your body language and rubs the nape of his neck. “Well, I started off on my patrol route and then I got… distracted.”

You fix him with an un-impressed stare. “You got distracted so you decided to stalk me?” You deadpan.

He tightens his fists in agitation, scoffing at you. “Well maybe if you weren’t walking around Gotham at night I wouldn’t have to keep you from getting kidnapped!”

You throw up your hands in poorly-contained anger, approaching him to jam a finger into his chest. “I’ve done fine without you up to this point! I hardly need your help.” You seethe.

He grits his teeth, holding eye contact with you from behind his mask. If you didn’t know better you would say that you saw a flash of regret on his face. “Fine then. Have fun fighting off muggers.” He practically growls as he pulls out his grappling gun and disappears into the night with a gust of cold air.

You start walking back, much more content now that there’s no strange shadow following you. As you drift off to bed that following night however you can’t help but feel a dash of regret.

————

You’re regretting telling Drake to leave you alone.

You’re really really regretting it.

You watch the group of large men discuss you in hushed voices on the other side of the room, all of them dressed in black. You’d been brought into a small room of what you think is the office of a warehouse. After all, this variety of common criminal are never original with their plans.

You stretch and pull against your binds, trying to find any weakness in them, you grind your teeth in frustration when you fail to find any. One of them notices your twitching and after muttering something to the rest of the group approaches you. You watch, doing your best to conceal your fear, as the rest of the men leave the room.

The man crouches in front of you, balaclava covering everything but his eyes as he analyzes you.

“What do you want.” You spit out, attempting to kick him with your bound feet. The man easily swats them to the side, huffing at you in irritation. “Your soulmate is Red Robin.” He doesn’t phase it as a question, but an objective fact, making your stomach twist anxiously.

“Why the fuck would you think that.” You growl out, baring your teeth at him, doing your best to use your anger to mask your true feelings.

A series of bangs and shouts interrupts you from outside the room, causing the man to stand and turn quickly. He stands in front of you, staring at the door a while before he turns to face you, giving you a look that you roughly decipher as his best attempt at telling you “I told you so”. He pulls you up roughly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and shoving a gun to the side of your head, making you wince silently.

He tugs the both of you into the corner that’s immediately visible from the door way. It feels like an eternity of standing there, trying to maintain a balance of getting as far from the man as his arm wrapped around you will allow while not pissing him off enough that he decides to use the gun. In actuality only 2 or 3 minutes pass as you listen to the sounds of fighting that echo outside the door. Despite your expectation of it, you still violently flinch when the door slams open, a painfully loud crack filling the room.

Drake looks frantic, he’s covered in dust and his Bo staff is sticky with a dark substance that you can only surmise is blood. He barely glances at you, eyes finding the gun that your kidnapper presses into your skull before his eyes trail up to the man holding you.

He holds out a hand, other gripping his staff tightly, and you can’t help but remember your last meeting. “Let them go.” He says firmly, like his trying to will the man’s action with only his voice.

From where the man holds you against his chest you can feel him shake with fear, but how did he think this would go? His friends would get the drop on Red Robin? Yeah right. You silently hope that Drake finds a way to get you out of this soon.

“Let. Them. Go.” Drake says again, approaching slowly. You can see his fingers shifting on his staff, attempting to feel out the man’s next move. “There’s no way you get out of this. So let them go and you can get off easier.”

Apparently he didn’t enjoy the sound of that as he throws you to the ground, points his gun, and fires. Drake’s mind and body are both quicker than any reflex this man might have however as he ducks under the bullets with ease, knocking the gun out of hands with a practiced flow.

You don’t see what happens next, and you don’t want to. All you see as you pull yourself into a corner are the scrapes on your hands from where you caught yourself. You bury your head in your knees and try to fuse into the corner. You don’t want to be here. You want to be able to pretend this entire situation doesn’t bother you. You want your soulmate to be anyone other than the vigilante across the room from you right now who’s beating a man to a bloody pulp.

Time doesn’t seem real, you don’t seem real as you stand in the doorway, watching yourself struggle to breath in that corner. You don’t know when you reentered your body but you know that Drake is in front of you, blood on his knuckles and dotting his face as he frantically unties you.

You struggle to breath and Drake presses his palm to your cheek, you flinch at the feeling of a sticky fluid meeting your skin. “Hey, hey it’s okay. You’re okay now.”

Your soul acts ahead of your mind and you press you face into his chest with a sob, you feel him physically startle for a moment, before he slowly and tentatively wraps his arms around you. “I’m sorry.” You choke out between cries, digging your finger into the fabric on his back. “I’m so sorry.”

You’re sure that in a day or two the memory of this will embarrass you, but for now his arms wrap around you and squeeze firmly, centering you in the here and now as he mummers comforts into your ear.

And for now, that’s all you need.

————

It’s been almost a month since you were kidnapped, and then rescued by Red Robin. Your parents had begged you to come home and recover with them, but you had turned them down every time they asked. Under other circumstances you would’ve agreed in a heartbeat, but your apartment had something that their’s lacked. Red Robin. The man who saved you that night, and your soulmate.

Every night following your capture he’d come to visit. As he handed you off to the police he’d promised he’d keep an eye on you, and it seemed he intended to follow through on that promise, as for the last four weeks, like clockwork, you’d awaken to a soft tapping on your window, opening it to Red Robin.

The first few nights he’d simply crouched on your windowsill and exchanged a few short words with you, turning down your offers of bandaging his wounds or a glass of water before he was disappearing into the night as silently as he came. It took you nearly a week before you managed to convince him to come inside for the first time.

You had to practically beg him to come in, promising over and over that it wasn’t any trouble and you were sure that you didn’t mind. You’d never been so happy Gotham’s rent was cheap enough for you to live without a roommate so you didn’t have to explain to someone why Red Robin was in your apartment at 4 am. It took a while for the both of you to warm up to one another, especially after the rough start you’d had, but once you two actually had a conversation without gritting your teeth at each other you found you had more in common than you thought.

That brings you to today, nearly a month after Tim had saved you from your kidnappers. You’re currently both seated at your small dining room table, cups of cold coffee in both of your hands as you chat about everything and nothing at the same time, his mask laying on the table between you. You glance at the clock on your stove and startle slightly, it reads 3am. He had come by for a brief pick-me-up before he headed out on patrol, now it was about the time he should be done. If the things he’d told you were anything to go off of, Batman would be sure to express his dissatisfaction.

He follows your line of sight and winces when his eyes land on the clock. “I guess this means you have to go…” you say softly, trying to keep from seeming to disappointed.

He leans back in his chair and lets out a sigh before shrugging unceremoniously. “Eh, it’s okay.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “Won’t Batman be mad?”

He gives you a grin that turns your muscles to jelly and makes your stomach erupt with a swarm of butterflies. “You think Batman’s never missed patrol because of a cutie distracting him?” He asks, looking you up and down in a surprisingly respectful manner that you find yourself wishing was a little less gentlemanly.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks and you rub at the nape of your neck in a futile attempt to disperse it. “I uh- I certainly find it hard to imagine.” You stutter, suddenly finding your floorboards completely fascinating.

He lets out a soft chuckle and a warm silence settles over the both of you like a blanket. You sit there and stare at the coffee sitting at the bottom of your cup as you swirl it around mindlessly. Your trance is only broken by Tim softly clearing his throat.

“So- so uh. I was wondering if you uh. Maybe wanted to go out with me sometime? Well not me.” He says softly, gesturing to his Red Robin uniform. “Tim Drake.”

Despite the warmth gathering in your own cheeks once more you place your elbows on the table and lean forward, taking pleasure in the pink you see on him. “If I didn’t know better I would say you like me birdie.” You tease.

He fixes you with a playful glare and copies your body language, similarly leaning forward. “What if I do?”

You click your tongue and pretend to be deep in thought for a moment. “Well…” you say slowly, “I guess I won’t have a choice but to take you up on your offer.”

He flashes you a smile that could rival the sun and stands up suddenly, prompting you to do the same. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 5, wear something nice.” He says with a wink before he’s opening your window, slipping his mask back on, and disappearing into the city with a short wave.

————

You hadn’t slept much last night. But who could blame you? After Tim had left all you could think about was what he had in mind. You spent several hours slipping in-between consciousness and sleep and when you finally woke up for good you found yourself thankful that you didn’t have to work today as your mind darted over all the different possibilities of where he would bring you.

His cryptic fashion advice did you no favors. What exactly qualified as “nice”? You certainly had no clue, and as a result spent entirely to long scanning your closet for something. You considered several outfits. Too formal. Too casual. A shirt he had seen you wear as pajamas. A pair of shorts that would’ve been perfect had it still not been to cold. A top that showed off a little to much. Nothing worked.

It took you an embarrassingly long amount of time to settle on an outfit that could be okay for a variety of activities, even longer for you decide what accessories to pair with it. After several hours you still had time to kill before Tim picked you up, which you spent doing small chores around your apartment, mind too preoccupied to get any real work done. As 5 pm drew you near you found yourself checking over every aspect of your appearance, nothing seemed quite right but as the sound of your doorbell rang throughout your apartment you found yourself grinding your teeth and having no choice but to deal with it.

You smooth out your outfit one last time before pulling the door open. Tim stands there with a soft, nervous smile on his face, a bouquet of red roses in his hand. He’s dressed more formally than you’d expected, in a simple white t-shirt, with a dark grey blazer and slacks, finished off with black leather loafers.

He blinks in shock as he looks you up and down once, his ears turning a bright red as he seemingly snaps out of it, offering the bouquet to you. “You look lovely.” He says softly, looking away from you and towards the floor bashfully.

You feel your cheeks warm as you roll your eyes playfully and take the bouquet from him. “You’re one to talk birdie.” You flirt as you move into the kitchen to get a vase.

He follows you into your apartment, closing the door and leaning against its frame as he watches you work with a fond look in his eyes. You finish filling a vase with water and place the roses on a windowsill. You gently mess with the blood colored petals, moving them around softly before you turn to look at Tim. “Thank you for the flowers.” You say softly.

He gives you a small smile and rocks on his heels, “Ah don’t mention it.” He says with a wave of his hand.

“So, what exactly did you plan?” You ask, unable to keep the excitement from your voice as you approach him.

He gives you a smirk and opens your front door with a flourish. “After you.”

You can’t keep yourself from letting out a short laugh as you let him escort you through the hallways of your apartment building and towards a nearby parking lot, where an entirely too expensive car is waiting. You startle for a moment, but recover as he approaches it and opens the passenger door for you.

“Do you even have a license to drive this?” You tease as you slide into your seat.

He balks and stares at you in open mouthed shock for a few moments, causing you to let out a full bodied laugh.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He splutters, ears turning red as he looks at you in confusion.

“D-don’t take this the wrong way,” you say breathlessly “but you don’t look like someone who knows how to drive.”

He stares at you for a few more moments before wordlessly rounding the car and getting into the drivers seat.

“You’re sure you can sit there?” You snark.

He gives you a half-hearted glare. “And to think I was gonna take you out to a nice dinner.” He mummers under his breath as he starts the engine.

You give him an exaggerated look of shock and lean over as best you can in a mock-bow. “I am so very sorry my lord. Please forgive me.”

He considers you out of the corner of his eye, trying and failing to hide a smile. “I suppose your apology is acceptable.” He quips.

You straighten and give him a large smile, giggling as you turn your head to look out the window at the streets you’re passing. There is no denying that the start you had was rough, but now? Now you wouldn’t change what you had for the world.

#key writing #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #tim drake x you #red robin x you #dc x reader #dcu #dc #tim drake #red robin #this is not my best work #but please enjoy all the same

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eand47 · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter III | Don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface

Summary: You moved to one of the biggest cities in the world - Grand Line to pursue filmmaking career. Soon enough your path will cross with the vocalist of upcoming band called “The Neighbourhood”. At first you decided to be just friends - because it would be easier, but sadly as everything in life sometimes by taking the easy path we regret a lot of things.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)

Supporting characters: Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Deuce, Shanks, Buggy, Sabo, Eustass Kid (more to be add)

Description: Modern AU | Musician Ace

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of smoking, mentions of weed, explicit language, sexual content, MINORS INTERACT ON YOUR OWN RISK (16+)

Word Count: 12,9K

<- previous chapter | story masterlist | main masterlist | next chapter ->

NOTE: This chapter contains a lot of dialogues. More characters are being properly introduced. I don’t want to rush things between Reader and Ace as obviously by now it is a slow-burn story, but from this chapter on you will have more and more interaction between them. I still don’t want to let you entirely into Ace’s mind, as with time all of the things he does and says will have more logic as of why, I just hope that you will be patient enough until then. I’m sure a lot of you might have expected a smut for this chapter, but you will be disappointed, as we are far away from one at least for now xD. Please feel free to leave comments about how you feel about the story and the characters relationship. Also if you enjoy the way I write always feel free to request an image, one-shot or a headcanon and if I have the time I would love to write it <3 I really hope you enjoy the chapter ^^

“You were right about the picture for the exercise.” Usopp exclaimed when we were leaving class.

“I guess it is the same every year.” We were going to grab a lunch, as our lunchbreak started.

“Are we going back after?” he asked me. It was only him and I here from our assign group, everyone else was sick or not at university today, even Nami.

“Yes, I was going to ask you the same.” I thought for a second if we should go back or call the rest of the day off. We were not having any class with a teacher after, but we were supposed to start writing the story for the exercise today. “Let’s stay and do the story, as we can’t know who is coming tomorrow, and I don’t want to waste time, as we should be done with it by Friday morning.”

“Yeah, we should do that.” He agreed with me, opening the door to the cafeteria and letting me go first. “But what if they don’t like what we come up with?”

“Then they should have been here.” I snorted out. We grabbed some food and sat down in one of the corner tables. Usopp yawned, he locked so tired today.

“All good with you? You look so tired.” I asked him concerned. “Please, don’t get sick and leave me here alone.” I whined and he chuckled at my reaction.

“No, I’m not getting sick. Don’t worry.” He reassured me. “I just had so many things to do over the weekend and didn’t have much time to spend with Kaya, so I tried to make it up to her last night, and I’ve slept for like three-four hours.” He explained, running a hand over his face, trying not to fall asleep.

“Oh, you were making it up to her.” I tease him, wiggling my eyebrows playfully.

“Shut up.” He shushed me, throwing a napkin towards me as I was messing with him.

“What were you busy with this weekend?” I took a bite of my food, curios at what he had done over the weekend that took so much of his time and energy.

“First, I had to go back to my hometown. My mom needed help with moving and selling some old furniture, we had around the house.” He took a bite of his own food. “Then when I came back Luffy’s brothers called me and wanted my help for a song they are releasing at the end of this week.” A little smile twitched on my lips as he mentioned the guys, Ace’s face appearing on my mind. “But something happened with the program we were using for the final touches, so long story short, it took my whole day to restore the files. Ah, anyway how about you?” He brushed it off, not really in the mood to talk about it.

“Nothing interesting. I barely left my place; I was watching movies and napping.” I shrugged. My weekend was quite boring this passed week. Especially the day after I worked at the bar. Shanks made me stay extra time to help around cleaning. Speaking of Shanks, his words about Ace haven’t left my mind, neither did Ace. I caught myself thinking about him from time to time and the little interaction we had.

“Oh, I’m so jealous.” Usopp whined, interrupted my thoughts. He slouched his body on the table, crying for sleep.

“Come one let’s get you some coffee from somewhere.” I cooed, patting his head, making him get up from the chair.

“I’m telling you I almost fall asleep during class.” He stretched his body, trying to wake it up.

We took our stuffs and went to grab some coffee, from the near by cafe. Waiting on the queue to get coffee, we were discussing our project.

“Think about it – a tour in a medieval museum.” Usopp suggested, but I was still not convinced enough.

“I don’t know, I think quite lot of people have already thought of this.”

The weather was quite chilly today. I couldn’t stop shivering, but Usopp didn’t seem affected by it as he was wearing just a green hoodie.

“Yes, but we don’t need the most original idea.” He was right about this. We needed something simple as we were not sure if everyone from our group would be here for the rest of the week.

“How about a man who has nightmares of being tortured in his dreams, and he is calm at first, only to realise that this is actually real this time.” I suggested, as I was sure no one would think of it.

“Good idea, but...” Usopp paused looking at me. “Mine is better.” We said together, laughing at our inside joke. “Let’s get the coffee, and we will decide when we go back. You want one as well? He asked me as it was his turn to order. I needed something warm to drink, so I accepted his offer. He bought me one and I thanked him. As we were walking to one of the sound rooms in school, we saw a big poster hanged on one of the walls.

“Look, they are having a Halloween party this week in here.” I excitedly turned to look at Usopp. “I have lost track of time so bad I have forgotten that Halloween is this week. We should go!”

“Oh God, I forgot to tell you.” Usopp slapped his forehead. “Luffy told me to invite you to the party his brothers are throwing for Halloween. So, we are going to that one and you are coming with us!” He pointed his finger at me, letting me know that he would not take ‘no’ for an answer.

“But I have met them only once, Usopp. I will feel awkward just standing there not knowing anyone, at least here I know people.” I looked at the Halloween poster again. Here I have classmates that I know, even thought they were not as close to me as Nami and Usopp, it still will be less uncomfortable and awkward to be around them.

“What do you mean, you don’t know anyone there?” Usopp grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him. “You know me, Nami and the rest of the group now. Luffy told me to invite you himself. On top of it you know his brothers and the rest of the band.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulder as we started to walk down the corridor. “Come on, Kaya is also going to be there. You will be surrounded by people who you know.” We entered the sound studio, leaving our bags on the side and taking seat on the chairs. “Come on (Y/N), that party will be ten times better than the one here.” He nagged me.

“Look I will think about it, okay? But no promises.” I tried to negotiate with him.

“Nah, I’m not taking a ‘no’ for an answer.” He wasn’t planning on giving up. “I’m letting Nami know, I’m too soft.” He pulled out his phone and started to text Nami.

“No, Usopp stop!” I grabbed the phone from his hands. “I will think about it – I promise.” I put his phone on the desk. “I will see, I might don’t go to neither of the parties, as I totally forgot that Halloween is coming up, and I don’t have any costume.”

“Nah, that’s it I’m letting Nami know.” He grabbed his phone from the desk again and I just gave up arguing about it. “Done – I sent her a message.” Putting his phone away, he looked at me seriously. “You gonna see, you will have a lot of fun, I promise you.” He winked. “Now back to work.” He clapped his hands, and I rolled my eyes at him.

Halloween is my favourite day of the year – of course I want to dress up and go to party somewhere. Especially the one I got invited to just now. Even without nagging me, I knew that Usopp was right. The problem wasn’t the party, it was the fact that Ace would be there. I wanted to meet him again, but I was also nervous. We have barely spoken, but there was something luring me towards him – something that I couldn’t put my fingers on what it was. It was more than the way he looks that was for sure. I really wanted to get the chance of knowing him. He might turn out like the other guys I have met before – a pretty face and nothing more, but I can’t know until we get to know each other. Just thinking about him made me both excited and nervous.

“Earth to (Y/N).” Usopp waved his hand in my face, bringing me back to reality. “You, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” I took out my laptop so we can start writing the script. “So, we are going with my idea, right?” I glanced at Usopp.

“Mine is better but, sure.”

*******

I opened the fridge and sighed deeply, seeing that I have nothing left in it. I hesitated for a second if I should order or go to the store. I needed to buy food anyway, so I grabbed my headphones, my keys and left.

The store was ten minutes walk away from my apartment. I was taking my time wandering through the aisles, it’s not like I had anything to do at home. Passing by the cereals I saw a familiar face. I wasn’t sure if I should go and greet him or not, as we have only met once, but he saw me anyway.

“(Y/N)” Luffy greeted me with a smile, taking his headphones off and I did the same.

“Hey Luffy, nice to see you again.” I smiled at him.

“Yeah, nice to see you as well. How are you?” He asked me.

“I’m good, a little tired from uni, but good.” I chuckled. “How about you?”

“Same.” He shrugged. “Going over to my brother Ace to play some games but stop to buy some snacks.” My body got goosebumps when he mentioned his brother’s name. I looked at the basket in his hands and it was overfloating with snacks.

“Damn, that’s a lot of snacks, are you throwing a party?” I joked.

“Nah, just us two but we eat for like ten people.” We both laughed at his joke. I took a better look at Luffy and noticed how much he and Ace look alike.

“Well, he better lives close by, so you don’t need to carry all of this.” I casually said, but I was curious if by any chance we might end up being neighbours.

“Oh, I wish Ace lived this close by but no, I will have to catch the metro to get to his place.”

“What are you doing in this part of town then?” I asked.

“I live here, my place is exactly next to the supermarket.”

“Nice, we are almost neighbours.” I exclaimed.

“Cool.” Luffy smiled. “By the way, did Usopp told you about the party this Friday?” He got excited mentioning the party.

“Yeah, he did today, but I’m not sure if I will come.” I awkwardly smiled at him.

“What? Why? No!” He was not happy with my answer. “What do you mean, you are not sure if you should come? You are coming! You, see? Easy, peasy.” He bumped his fist on my shoulder, a grin spread across his face.

“As I said to Usopp – I will think about it.” I mocked his gestured.

“Ouch, you are strong.” Luffy massaged his shoulder, pretending to be hurt. “But come on, there isn’t much to think of it, plus if you really don’t like it, you can leave any time you want.” This was the second time we meet, but talking with him felt so natural – his friendly and carefree persona could make everyone feel safe and relaxed around him.

“We will see, Luffy.” He rolled his eyes at my response with a smile. “Well, I’m not gonna bother you any longer, as you have to go to your brother.”

“You are not bothering me at all, but yes I have to get going, as he has been waiting for me for at least two hours know.” He said it so casually like it was something that happens frequently. “But before you go, give me your Insta or something, we are practically neighbours, so we can go on a walk or hang out around someday.” He handed me his phone to put my Instagram on it.

“Of course, we should definitely do this.” I quickly typed my Instagram and followed myself. “Here you go.” I handed the phone back to him.

“Nice, see you around then.” He smiled at me one more time before he went away. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to accept his request and followed him back.

********

The doorbell rang like crazy; someone was playing with the bell on purpose to annoy Ace. Ace paused the game he was playing and got up to open the front door of his flat.

“Luffy.” He yelled at his brother, pulling him inside as he locked Luffy’s head between his arm and body and started to ruffle his hair. No matter how old Luffy gets in Ace’s eyes he will always remains his little brother, for whom he has unconditional love.

“Uh Ace, stop that.” Luffy tried to escape his brother’s death grip, only to drop the bags he was caring on the ground. “Stop it, I’m not a kid anymore.” He protested, poking on his brother’s side making him release his grip.

“Yes, you are.” Ace bumped Luffy’s shoulder laughing at his reaction. Ace picked up the bags, from the floor to leave them on the kitchen counter. “What took you so long again?” He shouted from the kitchen, while Luffy was taking his shoes off.

“Nothing.” Luffy went straight to the living room, sitting on the sofa and grabbing one of the controllers. “I went to buy snacks and then I saw (Y/N), and we chitchat for a bit.”

“(Y/N)? Shanks’ niece?” Ace sat next to him, grabbing his own controller. Luffy nodded in response. “You know her?” His curiosity piqued. Until that night he didn’t even know that Shanks has a niece. Ace glanced at his brother who had his eyes focused entirely on the new game they started.

“Nah, I met her last Friday, when you were playing.” Luffy casually answered.

“Did you know that Shanks has a niece?” Ace asked; knowing that his brother won’t get suspicious at all at such question.

“Yeah, I was aware of that, but I had never met her before. She is also Nami and Usopp’s classma- YES!” Luffy yelled as he won the round. “She is cute, tho.” This caught Ace by surprise.

“Oh, is she?” His whole attention now on his brother. “Having a crush, hu?” The tone in his voice slightly changed. Luffy glanced at Ace for a second, shaking his head.

“Hell, no! Not like that cute” He exclaimed loudly. “I’m not crossing that line, there.” He shook his head in fear. “I don’t know which would be scarier – Nami killing me for hitting on her friend or Shanks breaking my neck if it even crosses my mind.” Ace just snorted at his brother’s reaction; even thought he remembered the way Shanks eyes warned him in the club when he interrupted their conversation. Not like it was going to stop him, but he did get the warning.

“I invited her to the Halloween party, by the way.” Luffy added, eyes not leaving the screen.

“Is she coming?” Ace attention taken away from the game when Luffy blurted that you were invited.

“She said that she is not sure, yet. But knowing Nami she won’t have much of a choice and she will come.” Luffy chuckled, thinking of Nami and how insistent she could be if she wants too. Ace smiled to himself. “What you smilin’ at?” Luffy interrupted his thoughts.

“At the fact that I’m beating your ass in this game.” Ace quickly lied; his attention directed fully on the screen now.

“Beating my ass? You haven’t won a single round since I came here.” He bumped Ace’s shoulder.

“No, I just let you win.” Ace laughed.

********

I got home and prepared myself a quick meal. I sat down to eat while scrolling on my phone. I saw that Luffy has posted a story and clicked on it – a picture of a TV screen with a game on it with a caption ‘Beat his ass’ and under it he had mentioned Ace’s profile. I paused the story for a second, before clicking on the mentioned button. Ace’s profile was public, and I stalked him for a little bit. He didn’t have much posted – four main posts and some highlights. He didn’t really had pictures of himself alone. His main posts were two pictures with him and his brothers, one from some music festival he had been too, and the fourth one was a picture of their EP album’s cover. His highlights were mostly of the band making music. The profile picture he had was nice – a black and white photo with his right-side profile, a hat was hanging on the back of his bare shoulders revealing his messy black hair and the red beams neckless around his neck. He was handsome to look at. A little blush appeared on my cheeks as I started to think about him again. My thoughts were interrupted by my phone ringing. I saw Nami’s name on the screen and I swiped to answer her.

“Hell-“

“Give me one good enough reason of why you don’t want to come to the party.” She wasted no time getting straight to the point.

“Yeah, (Y/N) hello to you as well, how are you doing?” I mocked her.

“Come on, you know why I’m calling.” She shushed me. “Please, come to the party it will be fun, I promise” At this point I started to get a deja-vu. She was the third person today who told me the exact same thing.

“I don’t have a costume.”

“So do I, we can go tomorrow after classes to search for something, we can even match.” She excitedly said.

“I don’t know Nami...why don’t you ask Vivi? You can match with her instead.”

“If I wanted to match with Vivi, I was going to speak with her now – not with you.” Nami responded to me sarcastically, and I could tell she probably rolled her eyes.

“Can’t I have some time to think about it fir-?”

“No!” She cut me off fast. “Because we don’t have much time to come up with the costumes.”

“We have like four days until Friday.” I groaned. This was starting to get annoying.

“Three.” She corrected me. “On top of it we have to think what we should match as and al-“

“Fine, fine – you know what fine.” I interrupted her. “I’m coming just so I don’t have to have this conversation again.” I sighed defeatedly. I removed the phone from my ear as Nami loudly squealed.

“I knew that you would say ‘yes’.” She mocked me, knowing that I got pissed at her.

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” I rolled my eyes.

“Think of ideas for matching costumes so tomorrow after class we can go shopping.” She told me before ending the conversation.

I sighed looking back at my phone screen, still on Ace’s Instagram profile. A tingling feeling boiled up inside of me, knowing that we will probably see each other at the party. I left my plate in the sink and went to lay in bed. ‘Maybe going to the party will be fun after all.’ I thought to myself, a little smile on my face. My phone rang one more time, my dad’s picture popping up on the screen requesting to facetime me.

“How is my little girl doing?” His cheerful, loud as aways, voice filled up the room.

“Dad why is your hair blue again; I thought you outgrew your Emo period?” I mocked him. He got into colouring his hair a few years ago, and sometimes the colours were outrageous.

“To represent my sadness and sorrow, as my precious daughter haven’t called her dad for almost two weeks now.” He faked a cry. I playfully rolled my eyes at his little act.

“I’m sorry, I was just busy.” I did feel bad that I haven’t called him in such a long time. “How are you? I saw on your profile that you have sold out all the shows till the rest of the year.” A big grin on his face appeared as I mentioned this.

“Yes, can you believe it? Your old man is a star.” He raised his chin acting like a royalty.

“My old man is a diva, not a star.” I joked with him. “I’m proud of you dad, there is no better comedian than you.” I told him, as both my eyes and tone were filled up with love.

“Oh, baby girl – my biggest achievement is being your dad.” I could see his eyes tearing a little bit. I have always known that it was not easy at all for him to raised me alone, but I will forever be grateful for it. “Enough for me, now tell me; how is school going, any guy catching your eye?” He teased me.

“No, school is great, and no guy has caught my eye.” I lied, but the small smile and blush on my cheeks gave me away.

“Lier, lier, pants on fire.” He called out my little lie. “There is someone. Is it just a crush or something serious?” He wiggled his eyebrows to which I giggled.

“It’s nothing dad.” I tried to brush it off, as my face was burning hot.

“If it’s nothing then why blushing like that?” He mocked me. “Tell Buggy – who got his little girl heart swept away?”

“It’s really nothing, just some guy I met only once and we talked for like ten minutes at best, so it’s nothing.” It was nothing actually, Ace and I have barely spoken, I was just attracted to his charm, that is all – I thought to myself.

“Is he from your class?” Dad curiously asked me.

“No, he is not. But it turned out that he is a friend of my friends.”

“So, what now? Are you in a contact with him?” Growing up I didn’t have many friends, as I was quite a shy kid, but my dad was always there – till this day he was my best friend and I’ve always known that my secrets were safe with him. Talking about boys with him was nothing new, but still, this was the first time that I really felt awkward about it.

“No, but there is this party on Friday that he and his brothers are throwing, and I got invited.” I got flushed again.

“Did he invite you? Are you going?” He started to throw question after a question at me.

“No, his brother who is Nami and Usopp’s best friend told them to invite me, and they were not taking a ‘no’ for an answer, so – yes, I’m going.”

“Is he going to be there?” He wiggled his eyebrows, teasing me.

“I hope so, yes.” I muttered.

“How did you meet?”

“The first time we met was at this coffee shop that I’ve told you about. I forgot my charger and saw that he had the same laptop as mine and I went to ask him if I can borrow it. Then he came and sat down with me, and we spoke for a little bit and then – omg dad you won’t believe it, he immediately got my ‘Fantastic Mr Fox’ reference.” I excitedly said my eyes filled with sparkles, my dad smiling at my reaction. “And then the same night I was working at Shanks’ bar, and he was performing there, as he has his own band and they are so good by the way, and he is such a good singer, and yeah we met again, and we started to chitchat, but Shanks came and destroy everything as always.” I didn’t realise that I was blabbing. “So yeah, it’s nothing as I said.” I brushed it off.

“Baby girl.” He chuckled. “It is not nothing. You obviously have a crush on the guy.”

“No, dad I don’t. How could I? We have barely talked; he is just good looking and I’m bad at reading guys, you know this.” I shook my head, disagreeing with what he was saying.

“We are all attracted by looks first.” He scolded me. “But sometimes we don’t need much to like someone, especially with the enthusiasm you were telling me your little story it does sounds and looks like you have a crush on the guy – so go get him!” He encouraged me.

“Dad, you know as a father, you should be grumpy and unencouraging when your daughter has a crush not the opposite.” I chuckled.

“Ahaa you see you do have a crush on the guy.” He mocked me. “And when have I been like the other dads?” He asked me seriously. “Plus, I want to see you happy, baby girl.” His voice filled with love. “And also, when you were little, you promised me no boyfriends until you were sixteen, you are five years behind schedule – as much as I’m glad about this I think it’s time for you to experience love.” Even thought he was joking; I felt the hint of honestly behind his words.

“I’m doing pretty good on my own. I don’t need a boyfriend.” I pause for a second. “Plus, he is surrounded by girls, I told you he is the vocalist in their band, so I’m just you know...” I shrugged. “One of the many.” This was something I was trying to ignore thinking about. I was not blind or stupid – I saw how many girls went and hit on him and his bandmates after the show.

“Every man who chose another girl over you, my precious girl, will be the biggest fool the world will ever know.” He has always found ways to melt my heart.

“Thank you, dad. I love you.”

“I love you, too darling. Take care of yourself. Next time we speak you better have some update on your crush.” He pointed his finger at the camera.

“Yeah, sure dad. Bye.” I waved at him and ended the conversation.

I looked at the time and it was already 10:47PM, so I decided to get ready to sleep. I brushed my teeth and put some oversized t-shirt on and got into bed. Today was a very tiring day.

*******

The next day only – Nami, Usopp and I showed up from our group in university.

“Well, at least is the three of us.” I said as we were looking for the equipment we were going to use for the project.

“True, we don’t need anyone else.” Usopp agreed with me picking up a few microphones that we were going to need to record the sounds.

“Please repeat – so we are going to record some sounds from outside, and then the rest of the sounds that we will need, we record in the sound room?” Nami asked again, as she was still confused of what our plan exactly was.

“Exactly.” Usopp and I responded at the same time.

“Okay, do we have everything?” She asked as we looked around to see if we were missing something.

“No, I think we are good to go.” I replied taking one last look around the equipment room before we left.

We went to the park that was close by our university. Walking around, looking for an aera where there weren’t a lot of people around, took us some time. After thirty minutes we finally found a place.

“Okay so...” I clapped my hands getting their attention as they were carefully putting the equipment on the ground. “I will do the sound recording, one of you will need to do the sounds we need for it and the other just can just chill.” I quickly explained.

“I can do the sounds. Nami can rest.” Usopp said.

“Perfect. Help me just connect the mic to the boom pole.” I asked Nami for her help. We quickly fix the microphone and connected it to the audio recorder. “Say something.” I put the headphones on and started to adjust the sound and the frequencies. Nami started to talk to the microphone until I was satisfied with it.

“Okay, nice we are ready to start. Usopp please stand where the big pile of leaves is.” Usopp nodded at me and went to stand where I told him to. I went and crouched a little next to him. “I want you to start stepping heavy on the leaves first.” I instructed him. “Nami, do you want to call the slates?” I asked her with a smile, knowing how much she loves to do this.

“Of course I want.” She came closer to us and crouched to the microphone. “Quiet on set please! Sound?”

“Rolling.” I said.

“Scene one, take one – Action!” Nami said and Usopp started to step on the leaves as I’ve told him to. It took us an hour to record everything we needed. From the of sound the leaves to the sound of some birds flying by.

“That was fast.” Nami exclaimed.

“Of course, with a professional actor like me you didn’t even need more than two takes.” Usopp patted himself on the shoulders, for the job he had done. We laughed at him and his cockiness.

“Before we go let’s record one take of you screaming here, as in the sound room it will be way too clean.” I stopped them from putting the equipment back. “I just want to have a record from here, just in case.” They both agreed with me.

I held the microphone up close to Usopp face ready to record. He was about to scream but Nami stopped us.

“Wait, I want to take video of this, I have a feeling I will regret it if I don’t.” She pulled her phone up and gave us the thumbs up to start recording. I nodded to Usopp to scream whenever he felt ready. I jumped out of surprise of how loud Usopp screamed and dropped for a second the boom pole, hitting him on the nose with the microphone, before I was able to catch it. I removed the headphones from my head as my ears hurt from the volume of the scream. Nami couldn’t stop laughing hysterically.

“Usopp, are you okay?” I placed my hand on hid shoulder as he was holding his nose.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you okay, what happened?” He looked at me confused.

“The headphones were on a full volume, and I didn’t realise it, and then you screamed so loud, I got startled, and the volume hurt my ears.” I explained. “I’m so, so sorry.” I apologised, feeling so bad that he was got hurt.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt that bad.” He patted me on the shoulder reassuring me that everything was okay.

“Guys, guys.” Nami shouted running toward us. “Please, look at the video.” She couldn’t stop laughing. We looked at her phone and she pressed play. The video was hilarious – from the moment I almost dropped the microphone and my reaction, to the moment where it hit Usopp and he grabbed his nose. Even if we were planning to stage it wouldn’t have turned out this good and all three of us burst out laughing.

“This is hilarious.” Usopp fell to the ground holding his stomach unable to stop laughing.

“I’m posting this, I’m sorry guys but this has to be posted.” Nami opened her Instagram and posted the video on her story tagging Usopp and me. After we calmed down a little, we tried once again to record the scream, but this time without any headphones. We officially wrapped and went back to university.

******

“And it’s a wrap!” Nami announced once we were done recording in the sound room.

“I can’t believe we manage to do it in one day.” I was amazed by how fast we were moving on the project so far. “If we manage to edit it tomorrow, we will be free on Thursday, and just need to come on Friday morning for evaluations.”

“And then we go to party.” Usopp started to dance on his chair. “I can’t wait, you will never guess what Kaya and I are going to be dressed as.” He smirked at Nami and me.

“Like what? Super Mario and Princess Peach?” Nami raised her eyebrow.

“No, you wanna guess (Y/N)?” He spined on chair facing me.

“I-I don’t know. Barbie and Ken?” He shook his head ‘no’ at my guess. “Then?”

“Metro Boomin and Future.” He threw some gang signs at us, while Nami and I looked at each and burst out laughing.

“What? Why? How?” I was speechless. “How did you even come up with this?” I needed to know what born this idea in their minds.

“Was it your idea Usopp? Oh, poor Kaya.” Nami huffed.

“Um, ladies – to your surprise it was not an idea that my mind came up with it, it was Kaya’s.” He raised his hands in the air like someone was pointing a gun toward him.

“I’m repeating (Y/N)’s question – how?” Nami asked him, we were both still in shock.

“She saw something in TikTok, some girl dressed as Future, and she sent it to me and said that she wants to be him for this Halloween, so I was okay I will be Metro then.” Nami and I looked at each other still a little confused then back at Usopp. “Why are you looking at me like this? At least our idea is original – who many other couples you know that will go as them?” He mocked us.

“Well, here you have a point.” I agreed with him. “You will definitely win most original couple costume of the night.” I mocked him.

“What are you two going to be? Do you plan to match?” He asked us.

“Well, we haven’t decided, yet.” I said.

“Something sexy for sure.” Nami winked, a smug smirk growing on her face. I looked at her knowing that she has had already something in mind.

“Oh no. You’ve already come up with something.” I was scared to ask what it was, as I had this feeling that I won’t like it.

“How about a dark and a light angle?” She suggested, looking at me expecting my reaction.

“Yeah...but no.” I shook my head not being very found of the idea.

“Why not?” She was surprised by my answer.

“It’s too basic, there will be at least four other girls dress the exact same way.” Last thing I wanted for Halloween was to wear a boring costume.

“Do you have anything better than that then?” I could see that she agreed with me on this.

“Actually, yeah. But I’m not sure if you gonna be down for it.” I smirked knowing that my idea was way better than hers. I took a dramatic pause before I tell her. “Donkey and Puss from Shrek, bam.”

“That is actually a super cool idea.” Usopp nodded at me, clearing liking my idea.

“As long as you are Donkey.” Nami pointed her finger at me, I laughed knowing that if she agreed I would have to be Donkey.

“Sure, I will be Donkey.”

“A sexy Donkey.” She winked at me, and I rolled my eyes at her.

We sat for a little bit more and chitchat while waiting for the recordings to save on my hard drive. Nami was on her phone and suddenly she burst out laughing. Usopp and I turned our heads towards her wondering what caused her outburst.

“Luffy just replied to my story.” She continued to laugh, holding her stomach. “He-he said ‘Usopp did a nice catch with the nose, Ace and I can’t stop laughing.” Usopp and I started to laugh, until Nami mentioned Ace’s name. I cringed thinking about him seeing my face and rection. The computer made a sound that the files were transferred so I fixed that while Nami and Usopp were texting Luffy.

“Okay, guys it’s all done now. We can go.” I told them, as I started to put my stuffs in my bag. “What time should we come tomorrow?”

“I say around 10AM.” Usopp suggested, and I nodded. They grabbed their bags, and we left.

*******

The rest of the days went by fast. Wednesday before I met with Nami and Usopp I stopped by my favourite coffee shop, part of me was expecting to see Ace there, but I didn’t. Today I gave it another try but it was the same as on Wednesday.

After we finished with our evaluations for the project, a few classmates asked me if I was coming to the Halloween party tonight, but I told them that for now I was not sure if I will be able to make it. They told me to come, as it would be fun, but I couldn’t make any promises.

“Why don’t we go for a little bit to the party they are throwing here in uni?” I suggested to Nami, as we were going to her place to get ready for tonight.

“Because we are going to a better one.” She scoffed.

“Come on, let’s go for just one drink and then we go straight to Luffy’s, please.” I nagged her, as I really wanted to go and hang up with our classmates for a bit.

“Okay, but only one drink.” She muttered. I squeaked happily and hugged her.

******

“Damn, we look good.” Nami exclaimed as we were checking ourselves in the mirror in her bedroom.

I was wearing a grey mini skirt with a silver corset on top, which Nami tighten a little bit too much, with a pair of black boots. I let my hair down as I was wearing a donkey ears on top of my head. Nami was dressed in light brown mini skirt with an orange corset on top and brown boots. On top of her long ginger hair, that was falling freely on her back, she had put cat ears. We took some pictures before heading to the party at university first. A lot of our classmates were already there when we arrived. I started to chitchat with some of them, as Nami went to get us something to drink. She came back giving me a can of beer.

“Sadly, beer is all I could find. We were supposed to bring our own booze.” She huffed, I could see that she was already eager to leave.

“Come on, at least fake it for me that you enjoy it.” I nagged her. She rolled her eyes but nodded. “Who gave you this by the way?” I took a sip of the beer.

“Some guy from year two.”

“Didn’t you take for yourself?” I was surprised, usually she never turns down things given to her for free.

“Nah, you know I’m not a fan of beer. But I will look around and see if someone has something stronger.” She patted me on the shoulder and left.

I continued to speak and laughed with some of the people from our class. We took some pictures and started to play some card game that took me some time to understand. I was having a lot of fun at the party here. Soon I finished my drink, and someone offered me another one, but I kindly denied their offer. I excused myself and went to look for Nami. She was sitting on one of the couches in school, talking with some girls from the second year; I got close to them and interrupted their conversation.

“Sorry for interrupting girls.” I apologised to them. “Nami, you want to go or stay a little longer?”

“Are you kidding me – let’s go.” She quickly got up and waved goodbye to the girls.

As we were walking to the metro station, I realised I have no idea where we were going.

“By the way I forgot to ask you, who’s house are we going to?” I was shaking a little bit because of the cold weather. I took a very tin jacket with me which wasn’t keeping me warm at all, on top of it my legs were bare.

“Deuce’s place. They usually throw parties at his house, as he is the only one who owns one.” She explained, and then looked at me. “Are you cold? You are shivering like crazy.” Her eyes were filled with concern.

“Yea, I’m freezing. I should have taken a long coat like you.” I wrapped my arms around myself, shivers running all over my body.

“Oh, come here.” She pulled me to the side of her body wrapping me in her arms trying to warm me up a little. “You are going to get warm once we get to the party.” She winked at me.

******

We finally reached the metro station and caught the metro. Twenty minutes later we were in front of Deuce’s house. The music coming from it could be heard from miles away. Getting closer I noticed that there were quite lot of people. Some of them greeted Nami as we were walking toward the entrance. Once we stepped inside everything looked crazy. Whoever took care of the decoration did a very good job. The place was a two-storey house. The hallway was leading to a very spacious living room on the left side, and the kitchen was right at the end of it. On the right side of the entrance was the staircase to the second floor. We looked around until we could find someone familiar.

“I will check the kitchen; you check the living room.” Nami yelled in my ear as the music was way too loud. I was going to protest and tell her to not leave me alone, but she quickly disappeared. ‘Great’ I thought to myself. I took my jacket off and hung it by the door, where it was already formed a big pile of jackets. I took a deep breath and started to walk towards the living room. Looking around searching for someone familiar, I was also carefully checking if anyone by any chance might be Ace. I felt like a lost deer in the middle of the living room. Someone bumped into me and didn’t even apologise.

“Ass.” I called out after him, but he didn’t pay me any attention.

I looked around once more until my eyes landed on the couch. There were two guys sitting on it dressed the same – black pants, tight black shirts defining their muscular bodies with Ghostface masks on. On both of their sided were sitting two girls. The one on the right side had his arm wrapped around the girl who was sitting with her legs on his lap, his other hand on the couch. While the guy siting on the left side had a guitar on his lab and the girl sitting next to him leaned on his shoulders. The two girls were dressed as a dark and a light angle, and I made a mental note to myself tell Nami – ‘I told you’. I was about to turn around when the guy holding the guitar caught my attention. It wasn’t him but the tattoos on his arms that did it, they looked oddly familiar. Then it hit me – I recognised the tattoos, this must be Law, the guy from Ace’s band. I took look at the guy next to him dressed exact same, wondering who it might be. The girl sitting on his lap turned her head towards my direction and so did the guy. I quickly looked away realising that I was staring at them. I tried to make my way around until I saw a familiar green buzz cut.

“Zoro.” I yelled trying to catch his attention. Surprisingly, he heard me and turn around.

“Yo, wat’s up?” He greeted me, as he pulled me for a hug with his left arm. “Are you a donkey?” He eyed my costume.

“Yeah, Donkey from Shrek.” I grabbed my ears and moved them playfully. “Do you like it?” I spined around so he could take a better look.

“Ye, sure. You look nice for a donkey.” He nodded at me, his tone cool and unbothered as always.

“What are you dressed as?” I ran my eyes on his costume.

“Guess.” He challenged me.

“Hmm...” I took a better look at his costume until I noticed the symbol on his yukata. “No way, you are dressed as a samurai from old Wano.” He chuckled at me and nodded. His costume was amazing. “How did you come up with it?”

“You know, I’m into marshal arts, and I have some roots from Wano. So... yea, I decided to pay a little tribute to my roots this year.” He was quick and short with his explanations.

“Where are the re-“ I didn’t finish my question as I heard someone behind me.

“There you are.” Usopp shouted, pulling me for a hug.

“Metro, make it boom.” I shouted at Usopp checking him out. “Damn, Usopp you look good tonight, I think you should dress like this more often.” He was dressed exactly like Metro Boomin from his lates album cover – black suit and white shirt, the white bandana wrapped around his forehead, his hair braided and as a last touch he even wore the exact same sunglasses as him. “Where is Future?” I joked, looking around for Kaya.

“Future is in the kitchen doing shots with Nami and sent me to get you there.” He nodded at us to follow him. Before we leave the living room, I took a glance towards the couch. It was only Law sitting on it with the girl from earlier. His mask was lifted now, and I could easily see his face. He and the girl were too busy making out with each other. Part of me was wondering if the other guy might be Ace. But then this unpleasant feeling bubbled inside of me when I remembered the girl sitting on his lap and the way his arm was wrapped around her. I tried to shake the feeling away and focus on my friends instead. After all it might not be him.

As we entered the kitchen, I quickly spotted Nami and Kaya. Kaya looked at us and waved her hand. She pulled me in a tight hug once we were next to them.

“(Y/N), I’m so happy to see you.” By the sound of her voice, I could tell that she was already tipsy. Her usual shy persona was long gone.

“Me too, Future. Nice drip.” I complimented her, as her look like Future turned out pretty good. She was wearing this long thick faux fur coat, her eyes hidden behind round sunglasses, and her neck was covered in so many silver and sparkling chains – she did an amazing job recreating his look as well.

“Wake up, take a sip of Ace of Spade like it's water.” She started to rap his verse from Low Life and we all started to laughed as she started to throw gangster signs at Usopp and screaming in his face ‘If she catch me cheating, I won't ever tell her, "sorry"’. Usopp was looking at her in disbelief as we couldn’t contain our laughter. If someone told me earlier today that I would witness drunk Kaya rapping at her boyfriend how she would cheat on him while throwing gangster signs I would have never believe it.

“This is what I get for being a good boyfriend.” He grabbed her face and shushed her with a kiss. In her drunken state she wasted no time to deepening their kiss.

“Get a room, you two.” Someone cheerfully yelled at them, we all turned our heads to see Luffy’s big grin as he joined our circle. He was dressed as Spiderman. His skinny but muscular body was fitting the costume very good, he could play a real life Spirdeman man if he wanted to. The only missing part of his costume was the mask.

“What took you so long guys?” He asked Nami and me, as he pulled us for a hug. “You two look great by the way.” He complimented us. “What are you a donkey and what? A cat demon from hell?” He poked Nami on the sides messing with her.

“Luffy.” Nami whined. “I’m Puss from Shrek, and (Y/N) is the Donkey.” She explained to him.

“Wow, nice. I like this.” He gave us the thumbs up. “(Y/N), you look too sober, let’s get you drunk. Nami you too.” He poured up three glasses with rum and coke, then before he handed them to us, he filled all the way up six shot glasses with vodka. “Everyone, grab a shot of vodka.” He shouted, as he raised one of the shot glasses in the air. “Let’s make this night memorable.” We all cheered and took the shots in one sip. The strong taste of the vodka was burning my insides as my whole body twitched from the feeling of it. Luffy handed Nami and me, the drinks he made for us and himself.

“Yo, Luffy we should roll one, now that everyone is here.” Zoro turned to Luffy.

“Hell yeah.” He shouted, agreeing with Zoro. “No wait, we are not all here. Where is Sanji? I swear I saw him.”

“Do we really need him?” Zoro snorted.

“He is upstairs.” Usopp said pointing at the ceiling.

“What is he doing upstairs? Someone goes get him.” Luffy said not getting the hint.

“He is banging some chick Luffy.” Nami clarified for him. Luffy’s eyes widen, and he grinned.

“Well, good for him. Get it Sanji” Luffy chuckled, and we all laughed. “Okay, Zoro come with me to find Sabo as I think he has some of the good one tonight.”

Nami made us four more shots, but Usopp told her to not give Kaya more, and that she needed some cold air, so they went outside for a bit.

“This is for us two then.” She handed me two shot glasses. “One after the other.” She warned me. I followed her orders without protesting and we quickly took the shots. We grabbed the rum and cola that Luffy made us and started to look around at the party. Some people were playing some card game, and we decided to join. They quickly explained the rules, which were simple, and we started to play with them. Nami rolled the dice first and it landed on blue, she took a blue card of the pile and read it out loud.

“Give this card to the person with the least bodies.” She looked around not knowing the people we were playing with. “Okay who here is virgin?” She asked and everyone laughed. “As I expected, okay who here has slept with more than one person.” They all laughed again as she was saying the funniest jokes on Earth. “Then, darling, this card belongs to you.” She handed me the card and I rolled my eyes at her. It was my turn now. I rolled the dice, and it landed on pink. It was dare.

“Take off your shirt or drink three shots.” I shook my head. “I’m taking the shots.” Some of the guys booed me, but I ignored them. Someone brought me three shot glasses full of some pink liquor. “It’s watermelon sour shot, they are harmless don’t worry.” The girl who handed me the shots reassured me. I thanked her and drank the shots. She was right they were rather sweet than bitter. We continue to play a few more rounds with them until Nami nodded me to move somewhere else. I could feel that I was getting tipsy. I got a hold of her hand and stopped her for a second.

“Nami, do you know where the toilet is, I really need to pee.” I asked her as I was holding it for a quite some time now.

“Yea, it’s upstairs. But please, hold it for a second so we can drink two more shots.” She dragged me with her to some table full of shots. She handed me two again.

“What is it in it?” I asked as I had no idea what I was holding. Nami lift it to her nose and smelled it.

“Oh, it’s Jägermeister – now chuck.” She already drank hers before I even lifted mine. I scrunched my nose at the smell of it – not being a fan of Jägermeister, but still drank it. I saw her pulling her phone texting someone. “Okay, everyone is at the backyard ready to smoke, let’s go.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me after her.

“No, Nami, wait.” I stopped her. “I need to go pee; you go outside I will find you.”

“Are you sure? I can come with you?”

“No, just go. I will be fine.” I waved at her making my way upstairs. As I was going up the stairs, I could feel that those two last shots were bad idea. I got to the second floor and there I was met with four doors, and I didn’t know which one was the toilet. I opened the first one on the right and it was just a small storage room. I tried with the second door on the right and when I opened it, I froze on the spot. The room was dark, but because of the open door some light got in and there was one of the guys with the Ghostface mask with one of the girls. One of his hands was wrapped around her throat choking her, while the other was pulling her hair. He was so focused on fucking her from behind that he didn’t realise what was going on until she screamed. The guy looked up and stopped immediately. I realised what just happened and quickly closed the door. I tried opening the first door on the left and finally it was the toilet. My heart was going to explode in my chest. Because of the dim light I couldn’t see who it was. ‘Did I just walk on Law having sex? Or it was the other masked dude?’ I thought to myself. I looked at myself it the mirror. My makeup was a little smudged at this point and my hair was messy, I sighed at the look of myself. I quickly peed and washed my hands. I was a little scared to go out of the bathroom, what if the guy got mad and he was looking to kill me know?

“I watch too many movies” I murmured to myself. I opened the door and there was no one. I quickly ran down the stairs which wasn’t a good idea as I almost tripped and fell but I got a hold of myself on the railing. I hit my knee in it and I hissed from the pain, hoping no one saw that. I stopped in the middle of the hallway as everything was spinning around me, the alcohol finally kicking in. It felt like there are more and more people in the house since we came, as if it was possible. I didn’t know which way the backyard was, and I felt a little lost. As I was looking around trying to focus my sight, I felt someone gently putting their hands on my shoulders.

“Are you lost, doll?” Someone whispered in my ear. Shivers ran down my spine. I turned around quickly to face the person behind me. It was the Ghostface masked guy. I stepped back, as I wasn’t sure if he was the one I caught upstairs just a few minutes ago. What if he got mad at me? He was quite taller than me, I was faced with him muscular chest. The tight shirt on him defining every inch of muscles he had on his body. I looked at his hands searching for tattoos but there were none, so it wasn’t Law, but why would Law call me doll in a first place? His arms were toned and veined and there was something on his left biceps. My eyes run up his left arm. On top of his left bicep was a tattoo, all I could of see was a crossed out ‘S’ and ‘E’. The guy was just looking at me with the mask on, without saying anything, like we were in one of the scenes in the movie ‘Scream’. I held my breath for a second, feeling intimidated but weirdly attracted by him. The alcohol gave me a big push of confidence, and I spoke first.

“You want to play a psycho killer?” I asked him the exact same thing the actress in the movie did, and he nodded just like the killer in the movie.

“Can I be the helpless victim?” I tease him the same way the actress did, and he nodded again.

“No please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel” I flutter my eyelashes at him. He came a step closer to me, and just ran his finger across my neck, as he was slitting it. The feeling of his fingers felt like they left a path of fire on it. My breath got caught in my lungs and electricity ran all over my body. The guy took off his mask, and I was met with Ace’s messy hair and charming smile.

“Hey there, beautiful.” His were eyes half lidded, but there was something in the way he was looking at me. “Are you lost? I can always help to guide you.” His voice was smooth and raspy at the same time.

“Ace.” My eyes widen at the sight of him. My confidence left me, when he was standing so close to me. “I-I no, no, I’m not lost, but I’m looking for the backyard.” I cleared my throat trying to compose myself.

“Relax, you will be on the sequel.” He joked with me. “Come they are looking for you.” He nodded me to go with him, as he put his hand on my waist guiding me. This simple gestured caused my cheeks to become flaming hot. We made our way to the backyard, and everyone were there, even Sanji and Ace’s other brother – Sabo with his girlfriend.

“Did you fall in the toilet?” Nami asked me sarcastically.

“Ha-ha, so funny.” I responded to her.

“Sorry (Y/N), we smoked the joints before you come.” Luffy awkwardly scratched his neck. “Next round I’m rolling you one for yourself only.” He giggled and I could tell that he was quite high at this point.

“It’s okay, I’m way too tipsy anyway.” I waved him off with a smile. Everyone started to chitchat something among themselves. Zoro and Sanji were arguing about something while Luffy couldn’t stop laughing at them. Usopp was making sure that Kaya was on her feet, as she had drunk too much alcohol, and now on top of it she was high. Nami was speaking something with Koala, who was leaning on her boyfriend Sabo. My body shiver slightly as the night was getting colder, and the alcohol wasn’t helping, as I stared to feel more tired than in the mood for a party.

“Are you having fun?” Ace came closer to me.

“Uh, yea... just l-little tired that is all.” I awkwardly chuckled, shivers ran down my spine feeling him so close.

“Looks like you are freezing. Do you want to go inside?” His tone was gentle.

“No, I need some air. Plus, inside is way too loud.” I brushed off his offer. “I will be fine, don’t worry.” A slightly blushed bloomed on my cheeks. I looked away trying to hide it. Alcohol usually gives people confidence, not the opposite, but tonight it wasn’t helping me at all.

“But you are freezing, doll.” He remarked, looking at my shivering body. “Let’s go somewhere where you can have both some cold air and be warm at the same time.” He whispered in my ear.

“Where?” I slightly tilted my head looking him in the eyes as he had bend over a little to meet my gaze.

“Come.” He just nodded at me to follow him, and I did. I turned around to look at the rest of the group but only Sabo was looking at us with a smirk. I lowered my gaze to the ground, as the blushed deepened on my cheeks.

******

Going back inside the house Ace got stopped a few times by some people greeting him. Some of them were girls, and the looks they sent my way weren’t very friendly. As we were going up the stairs Ace stopped and looked over his shoulder at me and asked if I want something to drink. I told him that a glass of water would be perfect, as I was feeling super thirsty. He nodded at me and told me to wait for him in the hallway upstairs. It didn’t take him long to come back. He handed me the glass of water and I thanked him. Ace started to walk to the second door on the right and as he was grabbing the doorknob to opened it, I stopped him.

“No, no, no. Do not open this door.” I still remember the scene from earlier when I caught the masked guy with the girl. Then it hit me like a truck – as I knew now that it was Ace and Law dressed the same, was it possible that I caught Ace there earlier. I looked at him a little suspicious as I let go of his hand. He raised his eyebrow at me, confused about what was going on.

“Why not?” He let go of the doorknob, turning all his attention to me.

“Well, y-you know w-why.” I avoided looking at him.

“No, doll I don’t.” He grabbed my chin with two of his fingers and making me look at him.

“I-I walked o-on someone... not l-long ago... h-having... y-you k-know...” His fingers were still holding my chin, but I avoided his gaze. He laughed at me for a second.

“Ah, don’t worry doll, if there is someone inside right now, they won’t be the first I’ve ever walked on.” Ace let go off my chin and opened the door. “Well, we are lucky there is no one in, come.” He got inside and waited for me to follow him. I hesitated for a moment but decided to trust him. The room was dark, but Ace quickly made his way to one of the corners and turned on the tall floor lamp positioned there. It was a bedroom. The walls were coloured in a cream beige nuance, some simple art paintings were hanged on them. The bed in the middle of the room was quite big, the sheets were wrinkled but still it wasn’t messy. The wall next to the bed had a big window door that were leading to a balcony. Ace closed the door behind me.

“You can sit or lay on the bed, and I will open the balcony doors.” He pushed the curtains and opened one of the doors. I sat on the side of the bed next to the opened door, and Ace sat next to me. I took a few sips of my water, my mouth dry and my mind was still quite foggy because of the alcohol. My heart was beating fast, as I realised that I was alone with Ace in the room. I saw him looking at me, and now on this dimed light I could take a better look at him. His cheeks were a little flushed, probably because of the alcohol, and his were eyes half lidded, but I couldn’t tell if he was high or not. His hair was messy because of the mask, at least I hoped it was because of it.

“Where is your company?” The question slipped out before I could even stop myself.

“What company?” He raised his eyebrow at my question.

“Y-you know that g-g-girl from earlier. D-did I w-walked o-n y-you?” I muttered, my eyes not moving from the water glass. “I-I mean, t-the g-guy w-was also wearing t-the s-same mask a-as y-you a-an...” Ace’s tongue-clucking interrupted me, and I locked at him. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he was shaking his head.

“Ouch, doll.” He tilted his head at me, a little smirk playing on his face. “I know we don’t really know each other, but don’t you think this would be kinda a big dick move? Like come on, fucking one girl and what, fifteen minutes later going to another one?” He snorted. I could feel that he was a little offended in the way his voice changed.

“Oh my God, no, no Ace I-I didn’t mean it like this, I-I’m extremely sorry.” I put the glass on top of the bedside table. “I-I swear I didn’t mean that, I-I thought i-if it w-was you, a-at least I can apologise for walking on y-you t-that’s all.” I babbled and didn’t realise that I moved closer to him and grabbed his arm by the shoulder.

“It’s okay, no offence was taken.” He brushed it off, his tone was cool. Being this close to him I noticed that he has freckles covering his face, especially his cheeks, which was adding a bit of cuteness to his otherwise very handsome face. I shivered again as the wind from outside filled up the room with cold air. I wrapped my arms around myself again.

“Let me close the door.” I wanted to protest, as the balcony door being open was giving me a sense of escape. It was making the atmosphere around us less intimidate.

“So, long time no see.” Ace sat back on the bed, leaning back on his hands. “You didn’t go for coffee this week?” He teasing smirk forming on his lips.

“I did actually, you just missed me.” A little smile forming on my lips.

“I will be a fool to missed you, doll.” He chuckled and I rolled my eyes at his lame comment.

“So what? You were looking for me or something?” My confidence was coming slowly back, and he just laughed at me. He eyed me from head to toe.

“I’m surprised you didn’t dress as a fox.” He reached with his left arm and wiggled my donkey ears.

“I’ve already been a fox for Halloween, I don’t like repeating my costumes.” I felt myself relax and I laid my body on the bed. “At least my costume is not a lazy one.” I mocked him.

“Hey, what do you mean?” He turned his body on the side facing me, leaning his head on his left hand.

“You know.” I shrugged. “Ghostface mask? Really?” I couldn’t contain my giggle, as I continued to mock him. Ace rolled his eyes at me playfully.

“Shut up. I’m not into dressing up anyway, so I didn’t even care.”

“Boring.” I murmured, glancing at him playfully as well.

“Damn, doll you switch fast – just a seconds ago you were all shy on me, and now you are bulling me, tc-tc.” He licked his lips, looking at me amazed.

“I’m not bulling you; I’m criticizing you.” I corrected him, and we both burst out laughing.

“So, now that it’s just us two, let’s finished the conversation we were having last Friday before your uncle interrupted us.” Ace said. “Tell me – what are you into the most?” I thought for a second back to our conversation a week ago before I answered his question.

“Directing for sure. I love filming, but it’s different when you are the director.” I explained.

“What got you into film making?” He moved a little closer to me, but I didn’t mind it, as I started to feel calmer around him.

“Well, I can say I was a little influenced by my dad. Growing up, going with him to different studios and theatres, got me into loving the idea of creating something with a camera.” I smiled to myself, remembering the days when I was little, and dad would bring me to every movie or show he was recording, even if kids weren’t allowed, he never followed the rules. “I took a gap year before I decided what I want to do for sure, and then I found the program here and yes... this is how I end up studying filmmaking.” I moved my gaze to Ace, he was looking at me with a smile on his face, listening careful to what I was saying.

“Is your dad also a filmmaker?” He asked.

“Ha-ha, no, no.” I shook my head. “He likes to be in front of the camera unlike me and he is a comedian.”

“For real? Is he famous or something?” Ace raised his eyebrow curiously.

“Mhm...” I bit my lip, nodding my head. “Have you head of Buggy the Clown?”

“No way.” Ace’s eyes widen in surplice. “Your dad is Buggy the Clown?” I nodded a big grin spread across my face, being proud of Buggy being my father. “My brothers and I love him; your dad is amazing. Damn, so you are the daughter he tells all these crazy stories about.” He chuckled at me in disbelief.

“Yea, I’m the infamous daughter.” I giggled at his comment, my cheeks blushing a little.

“Damn... I feel starstruck now, can I have your autograph or something?” Ace teased me.

“Of course, you can where you want me to sign.” I teased him back, winking at him.

“Don’t tease me like that, doll.” He chuckled a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“What about you? What got you into music?” My cheeks got flaming hot again and I quickly changed the subject, but also, I was really interested to hear his story behind how we discovered his talent.

“Let’s say I was a quite troubled kid, and as a punishment my aunt made me attend the school choir.” His face frowning a bit from embarrassment remembering the days back in the choir. “I hated it, you have no idea how much I hated attending it.” I let out a giggle at his expression. “Anyway, the teacher saw potential in me and spoke with my aunt to sign me for private lessons. She couldn’t afford that as she had to take care of Sabo and Luffy as well, but my teacher took me under her wing and, yeah..” He awkwardly chuckled.

“Well, that teacher wasn’t wrong.” I said, our gazes locking. Ace snorted at my comment, but he didn’t say anything.

“And how about the guitar? Did you take lessons, or you are self-taught?” I asked him, my voice came out almost as a whisper. Our gazes met and I couldn’t move mine from his dark brown eyes. I made a mental note to myself that I haven’t paid attention till now what a deep shade of brown they were, everyone could get lost in his beautiful eyes. His thin but as dark as his hair eyebrows were adding to his bold but handsome face.

“Law taught me when we became friends.” He spoke in a low tone as he moved a little strand of hair from my face. His fingers were surprisingly soft, even thought they were barely glazing the skin of my face. His touched felt like fire. My breath got caught in my lungs, as suddenly the room became so hot. Ace moved even closer to me, his fingers now playing with the strand of my hair. “Do you know that you have beautiful eyes, doll.” The way he said it as a statement and not a question made my heart skipped a beat. I just shocked my head, unable to say or do anything, as my body froze, but my eyes never left his. He licked his lips, eyes moving to my lips. I slightly opened my mouth, my hands gripping on the sheets under me, heart beating faster. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to calm myself down, and when I opened them, Ace cursed under his breath.

“Fuck.” He shook his head and sat up straight in the bed, looking at the ground. I followed him, looking at him confused.

“Ace?” My voice soft, coming out as a whisper. “A-are you okay? D-did I do something?” The energy in the room changed quickly. If a few seconds ago everything felt hot, like it was caught on fire, now it was the opposite, I could feel the cold wind from outside again.

“I’m sorry, doll.” He slightly tilted his head to look at me again. “Please, forgive me and forget about what happened just now.” His voice remained low.

“Nothing really happened.” I tried to reassure him with a smile. I reached with my hand to touch his shoulder, but he grabbed my hand midair and looked at me seriously.

“I mean it, doll. Forget about what just happened.” His tone was stern.

“Ace, I’m really confused right now, and it’s not because of the alcohol.” I was so confused, what gotten into him out of nowhere. “Nothing happened we are just a little drunk that is all.” I chuckled trying to lighten up the mood.

“Doll, you don’t get it.” He shook his head again, looking away.

“Then explain.” I snapped at him; even thought I didn’t mean to. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out so har-“

“I’m not the guy that sticks around, (Y/N).” Ace interrupted me. “So, let’s not cross any lines, nothing more than a friendship, okay?” He snapped back at me. I lower my gaze to the ground and nodded. Ace sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Believe me, doll... I’m making you a favour.” He got up from the bed and he left the room.

*******

I sat by myself for quite some time not being able to explain to myself what just happened between Ace and me. Did he just reject me? Did I do something to make him react that way? I wanted to go and find him and ask what was all that, but my self dignity didn’t let me. Why flirt with me and then reject me like this? My mind was running with questions. And what was it with all this “I’m doing you a favour.”? All I wanted at this point was to go home. I stand up from the bed and went downstairs, looking for my jacket. I wanted to leave as soon as possible. I couldn’t find it anywhere, so I cursed under my breath and left the place. I was partly hurt by his behaviour and also little offended. My phone had only five precent battery left, and the metro was closed so I had to walk all the way to my place. Just before my battery died, I texted Nami, a quick message that I left as I didn’t feel good. I was passing by some club when someone called after me.

“Hey, brat.” The voice sounded familiar, so I turned around and saw Kid. He came to me and gave me a look. “What are you doing here all alone?”

“None of your business Kid.” I cut him off, continuing my way, as at this point, I couldn’t feel my body as I was freezing to death.

“I can drive you home.” He said after me. I stopped and turned back to him.

“I don’t need your help.” I snapped at him.

“Sure, if you say so. Now come, stop being a brat.” He nodded me to follow him. His car was parked close by, so we didn’t walk long. The drive to my place was quiet.

“Kid, can I ask you something?” I broke the silence. He just looked at me waiting for my question. “As an asshole yourself.” I started not sure how to ask the question. “How can I tell if one is into me? Like... help me understand this.” I couldn’t stop thinking about Ace and what happened. Kid side-eyed me and sighed.

“If he is into you...” He glanced at me before continuing. “He will keep telling himself that he is doing you a favour by staying away from you but... he won’t be able to.” He parked in front of my place, his gazing not leaving the road in front of him. We stayed silenced for a minute, and I noticed that Kid was lost in his own thoughts.

“Thank you, Kid. You know when you want you – you can actually be very nice to hang around.” I told him before getting out of his car. “Thanks for the ride.” I said closing the door.

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c0eu4 · 1 year ago

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OP81 | Hard work ☁︎

Summary: After the biggest exam of her entire life, y/n found Oscar in front of her university, waiting for her.

Warning: fluff, anxious reader?

A/N: Just had some inspiration for that after one exam I had and totally fucked up it lol

MASTERLIST requests are open

Her hand hurts, she can't write anymore. Her copies filled with blue pen in front of her, she read it again one last time until the time limit rings.

A weight immediately lifts from her shoulders. She knows she succeeded. She didn't spend nights and days behind her computer, scribbling things on her notepad and repeating her lessons to Oscar for nothing.

She untied her hair down, puts her pens in her pencil case and puts it in her bag. She puts her coat on her back and grabs her copies. She puts her bag on her back, places her copies in the storage area and heads towards the exit of the building.

She closes her coat as she walks, putting on her mittens and shoving her hands in her pockets.

The cold of winter is felt. She pulls up her coat to hide her chin and leaves the building. Her cheeks and nose quickly turn red from the cold as she walks towards the gate.

Once on the other side of it, she walks towards the street which leads to the metro, to return home.

Her friends suggested that they spend time together in their usual little café but she preferred to refuse, knowing that she would be too tired after her exam.

She continues walking a few meters before seeing her boyfriend, leaning against his car, a coffee in his hand and looking at her, a big smile on his face.

She smiles when she sees him and walks more quickly towards him. She takes refuge directly in his arms, on the verge of crying. After all the stress she has accumulated, all the work she has done, she has every right to take a break. He hugged her tightly, warping his warm arms around her waist.

''I'm so proud of you my love.'' She can't help but blush a little more when she hears his compliment, his australian accent still makes her fall in love even more.

She separates from him, taking the coffee that he offers her.

''Don't burn yourself.'' She nodded quickly and took a sip of the warm liquids.

''Thank you baby.'' He kissed her forehead and opened the passenger door for her.

She sits there and Oscar sits next to her, behind the wheel. He starts the engine and drives them to their shared flat.

Throughout the trip, she talks to him about his exam. Passing by the two hundred and thirty three bananas that a man bought in a problem to triangular figures mixing the theorem of Pythagoras and Thales.

He listens to her, without interrupting her, taking advantage of her voice that he hasn't heard all day.

Once home, she continues talking about her exam. She speaks faster and faster and spreads the subject even more. And Oscar feels that it makes her stressed to talk about it.

So he cuts her off, ''Y/n, don't you want to stop talking about that ? You always speak fast when you're stressed.''

She sighed. Not in a disappointing way, but more because she knows that he's right.

''Yeah sorry if I bother you with that.'' She simply says, taking off her shoes and coat.

''You never bother me love. I just said that for you to relax.'' He takes a hanger to hang his and her coat.

They both walk towards the kitchen, she is already taking the milk out of the fridge and him rummaging on the shelf to get two cups.

It's a little ritual that they both have. Every time, when one or the other is stressed, they prepare hot chocolates. Because it's not a secret that Oscar loves chocolate and it's not a secret that y/n loves the feelings of hot liquids.

He puts the cups full of milk in the microwave and takes out the cocoa. She rummages through a shelf and pulls out some little chocolate marshmallow teddy bears.

Once the milk is hot, Oscar adds the cocoa to the two cups and a few teddy bears to his cup.

''I will never be able to understand how you drink your chocolate with teddy bears.'' She always hated putting teddy bears in her chocolate. Not that she doesn't like marshmallows, but she hates anything that's hard and gets mushy (Without a second thought).

''You don't know what you're missing.'' She puts a few bears in her mouth and eats them.

''Na you, you don't know what you're doing.'' He giggles and steals a few bears from her hands to eat it.

''Hey! I'm going to tell Mark what you're doing !''

He kisses her cheeks, putting one of his hands in her lower back, heading her towards the couch. They sit in, they cups of hot chocolate in hand, a warm blanket on them.

She is looking for a new series to watch on Netflix, Oscar eating his teddy bear with his spoon.

When she finally finds something good to watch, she takes a sip of her chocolate and gets a little closer to Oscar.

They end the day like that, in front of their series, cuddling each other.

#op81 fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar #f1 drivers #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #fluff #formula 1 #formula one #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri f1

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trippinsorrows · 23 days ago

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what the heart wants + one

authors note: here we are again with another au. this one, however, is a hot ass mess. i condone none of this shit.

also, this particular au will be told through a set of interconnected, non-chronological oneshots.

warnings: angst, some minor smut, and a shit ton of mess

words: 6k

suggested listening: 'a drop in the ocean' by ron pope

There have to be over a hundred different ways Solana predicted her life would turn out. Almost all of them ended with letters after her name, a white coat and stethoscope around her neck, and a set of children and husband in a cozy, white picket fenced house somewhere in the suburbs.

Such a traditional, stereotypical, happy ending of sorts. But, it’s an ending she settled on being hers.

If only things ended up that way, because nothing about her current situation is anywhere near the path to that standard domesticity.

Solana’s hand naturally falls to her stomach, pushing past the fluffy material of the dress. Material that hides the secret she’s been sitting on for almost two months now. A secret that stands to ruin, quite literally, everything.

“Solana!”

The woman in question jumps and quickly removes her hand, focused now on the icy glare of her older sister. A stark contrast to her cruel expression is the natural beauty Samantha “Sam” Miller has always possessed. Her makeup is light, as anything heavier takes away from her natural beauty. Her dark, long, loose curls cascade down her back and complement her practically perfect complexion. The white, bodycon type dress hugs her curves in all the right ways and highlights the toned planes of her body, including a flat stomach.

She looks perfect.

She always has though.

That’s always been part of the problem, because how could Solana ever compete with that?

“Sorry,” Solana mumbles, nervously fiddling with the side of her dress. “What—”

“Why aren’t you wearing the dress I picked for you?”

Solana tenses. Another issue she’s been avoiding that ties back to the biggest issue she’s avoiding.

The answer, as rehearsed, is simple. “It—it doesn’t fit anymore.” Not an entire lie. The dress Samantha selected for her bridal party to wear at the wedding rehearsal was always a bit snug. Still is. The difference now, however, is that it’s even more snug in the stomach area, the same area Solana needs to keep cloaked as if her life depended on it.

And in some ways, it does.

Samantha’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean it doesn’t fit anymore?” She scoffs, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “Oh my God, I knew you were getting fatter.” Solana would have more of a reaction if not for the fact that she’s used to these kinds of comments. She’s heard them her whole life from her sister. “Jesus, can’t you do a crash diet or something? It’s not fair that I—”

“Samantha, what’s wrong?”

Nina’s smooth voice enters the conversation. Both sets of eyes fall on the woman with a grace and beauty about her both physically and non-physically. Nina Miller’s presence is usually felt before she enters a room. She truly is someone who commands the attention of all nearby, including that of a now embarrassed Solana.

“Mom, your fatass daughter can’t fit the damn dress I picked for her to wear tonight, so she’s got….this on instead.”

Again, Sam’s words don’t really do much to Solana. Nina’s almost disappointed expression almost does though.

“Solana.” She gives a faux smile that doesn’t reach her warm eyes. “Honey, you know how important this night is for your sister. You should have been mindful of your food intake these past few months.”

“More like her whole life.”

As always, Nina ignores the cruelty extended from one child to another. Her judgmental gaze takes in Solana’s alternative outfit. “It doesn’t look awful, but it does make you look bigger.” She reaches a hand and places it on Solana’s shoulder. “I’ll send you over some articles for a few diets that might be good for you.”

Solana still says nothing. This also wouldn’t be the first time her mother has tried to help her with her “weight” problem.

After all, as Nina has said multiple times, “no one’s going to want a fat person for their doctor, Solana.”

“Sam.”

Another voice. One that makes the hairs on the back of Solana’s neck stand up, that has her wishing for quite literally anything to happen that will cause the earth to swallow her whole or somehow grant her invisibility.

He stands behind Nina and Sam, her sister’s height partially obscuring her view of him, but most definitely not his view of her.

And the minute his penetrating gaze falls on her, Solana knows she needs to make herself scarce.

“Roman.” Her mother’s sickeningly sweet address of the man Solana should technically also address, as per protocol, is just more fodder for the youngest Miller girl to try to quietly make her escape.

If not for her damn sister.

Solana tenses when Sam reaches and grabs her arm. Their eyes lock, and Sam glares, “did you acknowledge him?”

Did you?

It takes a lot for her to keep that snarky comeback locked within the confines of her head. A wise decision, as she knows the rock on Sam’s left finger is all the acknowledgement she needs to give.

Just the thought of it has her chest hurting. A pain that intensifies as Solana forces her gaze to lift to Roman’s. His eyes are piercing into her, questioning, inquisitive, curious, wanting.

There’s a heaviness in the back of her throat as she forces out in a leveled but low voice. “My Tribal Chief.” And just like that, before he can offer any sort of response, Solana is turning to leave, desperate to put as much distance between herself and him as possible.

But, as have been most things in her life in the past couple of months, the universe has something else in mind.

Because Solana is halfway down the hall of the church, a partial view of the restroom signs in her line of vision when she hears someone call after her.

Another familiar, unwanted interruption.

She starts to ignore him, actually does so as she continues walking, only for him to catch up to her, grabbing her arm and moving in front of her.

“Solana.”

She closes her eyes, unable to handle the almost pleading expression on his face. Swallowing, she addresses him, “Jey.”

It’s clearly not the kind of address he was looking for, but he leaves it alone. “How you doing?”

A stupid ass question, one that has her scoffing as she asks, still not looking at him, even as he drops his hand from her. “What do you want, Jey?”

“I been calling and texting you.”

“What do you want?”

There is full recognition of her rudeness in this moment. Solana knows this, and she also knows that it’s not entirely directed toward the man before her. Knows that, if anything, he’s the one who should be upset with her.

And the minute she finally allows herself to look at him, she sees that warranted frustration.

“What’s your problem?” Another fair question with a loaded, layer answer not appropriate for this setting. “Trying to check on you. Trying to check on the bab—”

“We’re fine,” is her clipped answer. She hugs herself, trying to move past him. He stops her, however, prompting her to plead, “Jey, please—”

“Why you acting this way? Huh?”

She closes her eyes again. “I’m not acting any kind—”

“Bullshit.” An appropriate callout, but one that has her eyes watering again. “I don’t get it. One minute you was all over me, now I can barely get you to fucking look at me.” And she still doesn’t, not until the next thing that leaves his mouth practically forces her to. “At least, I’m trying to be involved. Trying to step up. What the fuck has Roman done?”

That’s when she finally meets his pointed gaze. Swallowing, she warns, “don’t.”

“Why?” Jey is clearly unwilling to back down. Unsurprising. He has more in common with his cousin than he’d probably like to admit. “Man, when you gon’ get over him? He’s marrying your sister. Even if it is his—”

“Then, it’s none of your business,” Solana pushes back, once again trying to leave only for Jey to continue to block her. “Mo—”

“But, if it isn’t, then it is my business.”

And that brings about an uncomfortable truth that Solana is not fully ready to admit out loud. Not even in the slightest, because she shouldn’t want either of them to be the one. Jey is, in many ways, the best outcome.

If only he was the one she wanted.

“Be honest with me, Solana.” His voice does an almost 180 from the previous irritated tone, shifting into something also solemn and vulnerable. “Was any of it ever real?” Another question she wasn’t expecting, just like any of this. “Did you ever actually give a fuck about me or were you just using me to get over him?”

Solana swallows. “Jey, I never—”

“Answer the damn question, Solana!”

“Hey!”

Another new voice enters. One Solana is actually grateful to hear.

Vai marches over to them, shoving on Jey, forcing him to move out of Solana’s way. “Leave her alone, Jey.”

He looks down at his cousin with an almost sneer. “Aye. This don’t involve you, Vai.”

Vai, however, has never and will ever be that person to back down. “The hell it doesn’t! You all only know her because of me.” A true statement that could either be a good or bad thing, depending on the perspective. “Come on, Sola.”

Solana is grateful and keeps her head down as Vai ushers them past a still watching Jey. But, it’s only when they’re in the privacy of the restrooms that Solana finally cracks.

She cries into her hands, overwhelmed and overcome with the heaviness of it all.

“Oh, Sola….” Vai comes up to her, engulfing her in a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Solana cries into her, clutching her almost. “I—I messed up.”

“Solana, this isn’t all your fault. My dumbass brother and cousin played a role in this as well.”

“But, I should have known better,” Solana argues, placing the bulk of the responsibility on herself. “I—I knew it was wrong.”

“So did they.” Vai has never been unafraid to call a spade a spade. Someone who agrees with holding all parties responsible. It’s partially why Solana values their friendship so much, because just as Vai can be a hot ass mess on any given day that ends in ‘Y,’ she’s always been in Solana’s corner, ready to support and go to war for her.

In many ways, a better “sister” than Sam has ever been.

“Look.” Vai steps back and wipes away some of Solana’s tears. “I know it’s a lot, but we just have to make it through the next couple of days, and then we’re out of here for a month, so you can clear your head and get away from this all.”

And it’s in a set of back to back interactions that Solana completely forgot that while the next few days are bound to be some of the hardest of her life, going to spend a month in Mexico with her best friend and abuela is truly bound to be the kind of escape she needs.

Because Vai is most definitely right when she says that Solana needs to get away from all of this.

From them.

Blowing out a breath, she shakes her head. “You’re—you’re right.”

Vai rolls her eyes. “Of course, I’m right.” She gives a playful smirk, lightly nudging the other woman. “You may be the smart one, but I have my moments, too.”

A light, bitter chuckle. “I don’t know too much about smart anymore.”

Vai gasps. “No way. No way will I let the smartest, prettiest, finest girl I know talk down to herself.” She points to the mirror, ordering, “assume the position.”

Solana sighs. ‘Vai, no—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Vai objects, starting to push Solana in the direction of the wall of mirrors. “Come on.” Solana gasps when Vai’s hand comes down on her ass. “Get to it.”

“Vai—”

“Fine,” she relents, pulling out her phone from the small Chanel bag on her shoulder. Tapping on the screen, Solana rolls her eyes as the music fills the bathroom.

I am healthy, I am wealthy

I am rich, I am that bitch (Yeah)

I am gonna go get that bag

And I am not gonna take your shit (Uh)

“Vai!” Solana giggles when Vai climbs up on the counter and starts twerking, rapping along with Baby Tate. “You are so bad! We’re in a church.”

“I can’t hear you,” she ignores Solana’s protest, moving off the counter to grab her phone, opening up Snapchat to record them. Her influence pays off as she dances on Solana, eventually peer pressuring her best friend since elementary school in joining her for the singing.

It’s a silly little thing that truly lifts Solana’s spirits. Helping her feel a little more hopeful and a lot less helpless.

—--------

It’s painful.

All of it. For a variety of reasons. The biggest and most impactful of which largely due to the 6’3 man who makes intermittent eye contact with her throughout the entire evening. Even as her sister walks down the aisle during the ceremony rehearsal, Solana can feel his gaze on her instead of his bride to be.

And, it takes everything in her to not run off, simply rub at her eyes to avoid anyone from finding out her tears are far from the happy ones shed by her mother at the thought of this all being finalized in just a few days.

The thought alone makes Solana sick to her stomach.

Just like any time she catches a glimpse of Sam holding onto Roman’s arm, laughing unnecessarily loud as they interact with other attendees. More her than Roman. Solana knows better than anyone how he’d much rather be anywhere other than here.

She knows, because she feels the same.

And because there’s nothing more truly mind fucking than seeing her sister harp on and fawn over a man who just this morning was in Solana’s bed, fucking her, whispering all the sweet, sinful things that should be reserved for his fiancé.

Not his fiancé's little sister.

But, as already stated, the whole situation is just fucked up.

And it somehow becomes significantly worse during the rehearsal dinner.

They’re in the midst of toasts, Solana’s parents standing to offer their insincere words of support for the marriage. Insincere because they truly only care about the wealth and status that will be afforded to the family once Samantha becomes not only a Reigns, but thee Reigns.

The wife of the Tribal Chief.

Just thinking it makes Solana sick to her stomach.

Not as sick, however, as she feels the minute Jey literally stumbles into the dining room. His eyes are glazed, a silly look on his face, bottle of Hennessy in one hand, mic in the other.

And just like that, Solana knows shit is about to go from bad to inconceivably worse.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he starts off with a sly smile. “I heard—I heard we wishing good luck to the happy couple, right?”

The worry spreads across the room, including Vai who sits beside Solana wearing a trepidatious expression. “Oh no….”

Oh no is exactly what it is.

“Look, congratulations, Big Dog. Got you a bad one. Samantha fucking Miller. Fine ass been fine like goddamn.” For some reason, Solana finds her gaze falling on Roman who sits there, unlike almost everyone else, unworried and clearly pissed off.

Jey is in the middle of the room, brows furrowing. “I just got a question though.” He then points between Roman and Samantha with the clearly empty bottle. “How you gon be married to her—” the bottle shifts to Solana. “—when you fucking her?” He laughs to himself, as Solana feels her soul slip away from her. “Matter of fact, how you gon be married to her when you done knocked up her sister?”

Never in Solana’s 26 years has she been so mortified to have so many sets of eyes on her, all presenting with the same level of shock and disgust.

As if knowing she’s seconds away from panicking and causing an even bigger scene than what’s occurring, Vai reaches to grab and gently squeeze Solana’s hand.

If only that did any fucking thing.

“Wait, shit, my bad. It might not even be your baby, cause she been fucking the both of us!” Eyes shutting, heart crumbling, Solana has never felt so low. “So hell, maybe I’m the daddy!”

“But, hey, look! Solana!” Jey continues to talk, even as Jimmy and Solo are attempting to get the mic from him. “I got a surprise, too! Guess who also pregnant?” He tosses the bottle to the ground, shattering it, causing a group of the guests to gasp. “Nicki!” Breathing isn’t something Solana is certain she’s even capable of anymore, as an inebriated Jey continues to twist the knife. “So not only is my wife pregnant, but my side bitch might be carrying my baby too—”

Roman seems to come out of fucking nowhere, tackling Jey to the ground, immediately beating on him. And from there, even more chaos, security and other family members attempting to pry the cousins apart. Guests looking around and at the scene before them with all the bewilderment.

“You fucking whore!”

That’s all Solana hears before she’s grabbed by her hair and dragged out of her seat, thrown to the ground. There’s only seconds between Samantha going to kick her and Vai jumping out of her seat, tackling Samantha, effectively keeping her away from her intended target.

“I wish you fucking would touch her, you bony ass cunt!”

And because Vai is an actual Reigns, the baby sister of the Tribal chief, the princess of the Bloodline, security is by her in seconds, ready to defend if need be.

Meanwhile, Nina and Xavier are rushing by to check on Samantha, helping her to her feet, Nina’s horrified gaze on her youngest daughter. “Solana. Tell me….tell me it’s not true.”

Xavier’s gaze is less judgmental, almost sympathetic. “Sweetheart….”

Solana can only cry, struggling to get back to her feet, ignoring the brawling around her. It’s not nearly as heavy as the scene before her. “Daddy, I—”

“Of course, it’s true!” Samantha shouts, Nina having to restrain her daughter. “That’s why she’s gotten so fat! She’s pregnant!”

“Samantha, please,” Xavier sighs, running a hand over his face. Vai moves to help Solana stand, hand on the small of her back. “Solana Miller, don’t lie to us. Is this….is this true? Are you…..are you…..are you really pregnant with—with Roman’s child?”

In all the ways this unfortunate set of news could have been broken, for it to be laid out so publicly and brutally, it’s something she would have never foreseen.

Ever.

And with all the regret—and embarrassment—in the world, Solana answers, “I don’t—” She closes her eyes, never in her life feeling so much shame. “I don’t know if he’s the the father—”

“Oh my God,” is all Nina can say, hands covering her mouth, thus freeing Samantha who goes to swing for Solana once more. Vai, however, is having none of it. She jumps in front of her best friend without an ounce of hesitation.

“Hit me, bitch! Let me see you do it!” She challenges, knowing full and well, even with her rage, Samantha isn’t stupid enough to try anything. Not with a slew of security ready to make the upcoming wedding a funeral real fast.

If there even still is a wedding.

“How could you do this to us?” Nina demands, anger overpowering shock. “To your sister?” Solana would give anything to not exist in this moment. Anything at all. “What kind of whore have you become?”

“Nina,” Xavier says in an almost quiet voice. Solana would appreciate the almost sign of defense if not for his next question. “Why have you not terminated it?”

It’s a question Solana isn’t entirely surprised by, but it’s the way he asks, the fact that he’s asking now, even as the crowd has started to disperse, security directing people near the exits, that stuns her.

“I don’t—”

Samantha scoffs, eyes wide. “You’re not keeping that thing!”

“Samantha. Calm down.”

Xavier’s words seem to do the complete opposite. “Calm down? This whore fucked my fiance! And now she’s potentially carrying his baby, and you want me to calm down?”

“Yes, because if you don’t, I’m about to beat the shit out of you,” Vai cuts in, unafraid to be the mouthpiece Solana clearly needs at this moment. She looks toward Xavier and Nina. “This isn’t the time or place for this conversation.”

“This doesn’t concern you, Vai,” Nina’s objection is cold and her stare is icy. “This is a family matter.”

“Solana is basically my family, and the baby she’s carrying is either my niece, nephew, or my little cousin, so yes, it absolutely does concern me.”

Vai reaches for Solana’s hand, making one final statement. “Another time.”

And without giving anyone a chance to beat down more on Solana than she was already beating on herself, Vai guides them out of the place, just as Solana catches Roman’s intense eyes burning into her as he moves in their direction.

It only makes Solana walk away faster.

—-----

There aren’t words accurate and applicable enough to describe just what emotions are coursing through Solana’s body. Not as she empties her stomach over the toilet, only partially due to morning sickness. Not as she cries into her best friend’s chest, Vai doing her best to offer words of support and comfort. And certainly not as Solana takes in the gravity of what just occurred.

Not only has her pregnancy been outed in front of everyone, but to make matters worse, she’s completely humiliated her family.

Samantha’s dislike of her was already magnanimous. Now, her hatred will be unfathomable.

And her parents…..

God, Solana will never be able to wipe away the memory of their disappointment as they looked at her. They were already on shaky terms following her taking a year off from medical school, something that was met with disagreement and judgment. But this?

This is an entirely different ballpark. One that she doesn’t know how to navigate her way out of.

So, she’ll do the only thing she can in such a situation.

She’ll run.

Solana was already planning to leave, to go stay with her grandmother for a month after the wedding. But now….

Now, even if there is still a wedding, there’s no way in hell she can attend. That she’s even still invited.

Samantha would soon rather kill her than see her present on that big day.

And because Vai truly is the guardian angel Solana was blessed with, she agreed to accompany Solana on the trip that's now been moved up, citing she’d rather be chewed alive by a pack of rabid dogs than sit there and watch “that bitch and my brother exchange vows.”

A sentiment that Solana partially shares, as she’s been doing her best to prepare herself mentally for that sight.

Just the thought of it has her eyes watering yet again as she folds another dress and packs it into her suitcase.

The silence of the apartment doesn’t help the bombardment of thoughts in her head. So many racing thoughts that have her wishing she hadn’t told Vai she’d be okay until morning where they would board one of the Reigns’ private jets and head to Mexico.

And while a welcomed escape, it’s not her preferred destination.

No, given what’s occurred, Solana would prefer to head to Georgia. To spend time away from it all with Trick, her older half brother, his wife, Ashanti, and Solana’s “aunt” Melody, Trick’s biological mother. The woman who’s been more supportive and loving than Solana’s own biological mother at points.

She knows she’d find nothing but support from the older woman. And would from her brother as well, who’s always been there for her, if not for the fact that Jey is one of his good friends, and thus this situation would potentially put a wall between them.

But, even more, Trick and Roman hate each other, and Solana would not be surprised if her brother literally tried to kill Roman.

So yet, another mess that this situation has created. Not only has she messed up a marriage before it began, potentially ruined an almost lifelong friendship, heightened a decades long feud but also interfered with an actual marriage.

Because Nicki, Jey’s wife, being pregnant is something she could have never seen coming. He told her they were separated, that he was finally done with her. And Solana believed him.

The same way he believed her when she told him she was done wanting Roman, even if she was lying through her teeth and knew it at the moment. Was just too weak to be honest with him.

And herself, to some extent.

Additional tears fall freely as Solana moves to her dresser to pull out more clothes when she hears the doorbell. A glance at the clock on her nightstand reveals it’s almost 11pm. Too late for any visitors. If this was an average day.

But today was far from average.

Solana heads out of her room and to the front door where she leans up to look out the peephole, instantly regretting it.

Feet flat on the ground, eyes closed, her first instinct is to ignore him. To leave him outside for however long it takes for him to go away.

But, she also knows him. Knows that he’d kick the damn door down if that was what it took to see her.

It’s why, against her better judgment, for the second time today, she lets him in.

And as soon as she unlocks and opens the door, she brings her eyes to where he stands before her, expression filled with concern, no sign of him being involved in such a violent scuffle earlier.

That means Jey got the short of the stick.

Yet again.

“What are you doing here?” Solana redirects her attention and focuses on the door instead of the intense way he’s looking at her.

His answer is instant. “I needed to check on you.”

It’s the needed that makes her chuckle bitterly. “Just leave, Roman.”

“No.” An expected answer. As long as she’s known him, Roman has never responded well with being told what to do. “Not until I’m sure you’re alright.”

And, it’s that infuriating alright that makes her snap her focus back on him. “Alright?” Just saying it leaves a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. “Roman, nothing about what has happened is alright.”

He swallows. “I know.”

“No, you don’t,” she counters, the emotion building back up. “Because it wasn’t you who was humiliated tonight in front of everyone, Roman. It was me.”

His expression hardens just slightly. “This shit involves me too, Solana.”

Her grip on the door tightens as she lays out for him the double standards he seems to not understand. “Roman. You’re the man who’ll get props for fucking sisters. I’m the whore who doesn’t even know who the father of her baby is.”

His eyes shift from irritated to something almost soft at the ending part of her sentence. “It’s my baby, Sol.”

She feels such a mixture of frustration and appreciation for that one sentence. “You don’t know that, Roman. You shouldn’t want that.” Even if she also wants that. Doesn’t matter. It’s wrong. “This whole situation is so messed up, and the fact that you don’t see it just shows how unaffected you are by it all.”

“How the hell am I not affected by this, Solana?” His anger is rising, the two somehow moving from by the door to the interior of her apartment, near the living room. “Am I not in the middle of this, too?”

She scoffs, throwing her hands up and pointing at him. “You know what, you’re right, you are in the middle, because you started all of this!”

He pauses. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Solana presses her fingers to her temples, expressing aloud, “God, I wish you just left me alone.” And to emphasize the accountability on both parts, she admits, “I should have left you alone.”

A brief moment of silence followed up with a quiet, “you don’t mean that.”

“Of course, I mean it!” She shouts, gesturing around the room. “Roman, look at what’s happened. Nothing good has come out of this. My sister, who already hated me, is never going to forgive me. My parents have threatened to disown me if I keep this baby.” Just recalling the long, ultimatum of a text message she received has the tears brewing again. ‘That’s why—why I can’t.”

Roman’s shoulders drop. “Can't what?”

And for the first time since being backed into decision-making corner, Solana says aloud, “I’ve decided to put the baby up for adoption.”

Silence

It’s the longest bout of it that’s existed between herself and the man before her.

Shaking his head, Roman takes a step toward her, voice low but firm, “Solana, you….you can’t do that.”

Backing away and wiping at her wet eyes, she affirms, “yes, I can, and I will.”

It seems her answer triggers another set of anger for him. “The hell, you can.”

Looking away, Solana finds herself sharing some of the things she had to consider when coming to this decision. “Roman, what kind of life would this baby have?” An honest, fair question she’s asked herself since finding out she was pregnant. An answer she’s finally come to after the events of tonight. “If it’s yours, he or she will just be the shunned bastard child of the Tribal Chief with a step mother who would never accept them.” She crosses her arms, playing out the alternative. “And even if it’s Jey’s, he or she isn't much better off dealing with Nicki as a step-mother.” A sure shitfest of a situation, given everything she knows about Jey’s wife. “It’s wrong to bring a child into this mess!”

Roman, as always, shows no signs of backing down, matching her volume. “It’s our child!”

“Stop saying that!” She snaps, loosing the already limited control she held with her emotions. “You don’t know that! Until we can get a paternity test—”

“I don’t care what the fucking test says!” He shouts. “This is my child!”

Solana’s eyes shut. Just like that. Just like that she’s taken back to all the moments shared between him. Those memories that showed a different side of the man known as the Head of the Table. A softer, vulnerable man. A loving man.

A man who’d do anything for her.

Even claim a child that’s not even biologically his.

“Roman…..” Her voice is significantly quieter, but her determination is unwavering. “I can’t be a mother right now.” She just can’t. “I’m supposed to be finishing medical school next year. I—I have plans—”

And once again, another wave of anger with both harsh and cruel delivery. “They’re not even your fucking plans, Solana. Those are your parents' plans because you’re too goddamn scared to stand up to them and be honest with yourself.”

She’s less taken back by his tone and more the words. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Roman doesn’t hesitate or stutter as he explains, ever so clearly, “it means you keep living your life for others instead of yourself. Doing what you think makes everyone else happy instead of yourself.”

If not for this whole situation, Solana might be able to acknowledge the truth in those words. Recognize how a lifetime of feeling never enough has created a tremendous amount of people pleasing.

But, this isn’t that.

Her voice is pointed and tight. “I tried to do what makes me happy and look where it got me.” A powerful, telling statement followed by the heartbreaking acknowledgment of all that’s been destroyed. “Look what it’s cost me.”

His eyes soften as he attempts to comfort her. “Baby—”

Solana turns away and shares what, in hindsight, she should probably keep to herself. “I can’t—I can’t stay here anymore, Roman. I—I need time to—”

He cuts her off, asking almost urgently. “What do you mean you can’t stay here?” When she says nothing, he asks directly, “you’re leaving?”

Solana looks away, unable to handle whatever his nonverbal response is. “Yes.” She closes her eyes, sharing, “I’m—I’m going to stay with my abuela for a little while—”

“Solana, please—”

“I can’t stay here anymore.”

“We can figure this out—”

“It’s too—it’s too hard—”

“I can’t lose you—”

“It’s never going to work, Roman!” She yells, once again losing the battle with her emotions. Watery eyes on him, she pours out all of her emotions. “You are marrying my sister! You’re going to make her your wife! She will give you and be the mother of your children. Not me.”

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I don’t want her?” There’s an almost blunt coldness to his rhetorical question. But, it’s contrasted and negated as he steps toward her once more. Solana doesn’t back away this time. “I want you.”

Her eyes close once more, almost on their own accord as his hands move to her face.

“I love you,” he breathes. Whispered, sacred words spoken against her closed lids as his grasp on her waist tightens just not enough. “And, I need you….”

“Roman,” she whispers, unable to stop herself from moving her hands to his chest, fingers grasping at the soft material of his shirt. “We—we can’t.”

He doesn’t say anything, the same way she doesn’t say or do anything when he hikes her up on his waist and walks them back to her bedroom.

“You can’t leave me.” An almost pleading tone laces his words, a weight to them that matches the light weight of him on top of her as he lays her down on the bed and hovers over her slightly.

His hands moving under her shirt, his big hand rubbing over her small baby bump. An act he seems to do every time this happens between them ever since it appeared almost overnight a couple weeks ago. “Roman, n—”

“Please don’t leave,” he all but begs, effectively pulling her shirt over head, tossing it to the floor. Mouth back on hers, he breathes against her lips, “stay with me.”

Her eyes shut are clenched shut as he continues to tug her clothes off, followed by his until they’re in a crumpled pile on the floor that’s similar to the crumpled, pathetic thing that is her resolve.

“You can never leave me, Sol.” It’s another desperate plea that tumbles out his mouth at the same time he enters her, her mouth falling open at that delicious, addictive stretch.

“Roman….” Nails pressed into his back, thighs tightened around his waist, the resolve is all but desolate.

“Mine,” he vows, restricting her hands above her head, claiming her lips in a possessive, needy kiss. “Tell me,” he presses his forehead against hers. “Tell me you love me.”

And as much as she would love to deny him that, to deny him something, she can’t. Not that. Never that.

“I love you,” she whimpers, overwhelmed and overcome with it all.

Because she does.

Because as wrong as it is, Solana loves this man. Loves the man she can never have, and it’s that part of it that has her determined to follow through with her plan.

Because loving in him is nothing but a dead-end to heartbreak.

So, tonight, she’ll have this. Have him once more. One last time. Because come morning, this time, it’ll be him who wakes up alone.

#roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black!oc #arisnotebook

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