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hees-theman · 3 months ago

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BECOMING MRS. SIM

Title: Becoming Mrs. Sim

Pairing: Boss!jake x F!secretaryreader

Genre: Romance, drama, contract-to-real marriage

Summary: To ensure his position in the company, Jake proposed to you in front of his dad. What started of as a fake marriage, slowly turns into real romance with a bit of drama.

Contents warning: Cursing, mention of 'kys', implied sh, may or may not make you puke due to the fluff, suggestive, mention of third party, a tiny bit of angst (like as big as one virus)

Word Count: 16k

A/n: Ngl, this is the first time I wrote so much for a fanfic. Even I was surprised I managed to go passed 10k lmao. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it ^^

Taglist: @sumzysworld @dreamiestay @heeverseblog @originalladymilkshake @bookloversomuch @laurradoesloveu @niniissus

—

"We need to find you a wife."

There you go - a sentence that Jake has been waiting to hear from his dad.

Jake was born with a golden spoon in his mouth. Despite being wealthy, he chose to live just like the others. He would prefer to do a lot of things by himself. He finds satisfaction in it.

Sim family is known to have one of the largest businesses in Asia and the examples for others. So, when Jake has finally reached 'the age', it's natural to expect him to become the next successor.

Jake has an older brother. However, he chose to venture into different field, leaving Jake as his dad's only hope to take over the company.

But, in order for his dad to grant the status to Jake, he has to get married. It was his dad's main condition.

His dad had always been living with the principle of behind every successful man, there is his wife. According to his dad, being married motivates him to be better both personally and career-wise so that he can provide more for his wife and his children.

On the contrary, Jake believes in independency. No, it's not that he hates love or relationship. In fact, he was in a relationship back then. Unfortunately, things happened, and they drifted away from each other. Nobody really knows about it and Jake wished to keep it that way.

"Is it really necessary, dad," he asked his dad.

"Of course. Getting married and loving your wife with all your heart will help you in gaining people's trust better - rather than be single. You will appear more... capable and trustworthy."

"But-"

Just as Jake was about to say something, his dad cut him off by placing a file on the coffee table between both of them.

"This is Kim's eldest daughter. I heard that she graduated from fashion designing with good result. Personally, I think that she is a perfect woman to be your wife."

Jake looks at the file and at his dad with a raised brow.

"Really? A blind date?"

Mr. Sim just shrugs his shoulder. "Well, it's not like you will ever introduce anyone to me, right?"

Jake leans his back against the couch and let out a deep sigh. God, one thing he doesn't like is going on a blind date which is arranged by others without his consent.

He don't like it when people tell him to do stuff that he doesn't want to do. It makes him feel like he is being force to do things. Last thing he wants is to hurt an innocent woman.

As Jake is in deep thought, there's a knock coming from outside Mr. Sim's office.

"Come in," his dad said.

You turn the knob and enter the room with a tray of coffee cups in your hand. You bow your head slightly at both Jake and Mr. Sim before walking towards the table and place the cups on it.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Sim?"

Jake's dad shakes his head at you. "That's all for now. Thank you, Ms. Y/LN."

You bow your head for the second time before walking away from both of them. But just as you were about to turn the knob, Jake calls out your name.

"Ms. Y/LN."

You turn your head to him.

"Yes?"

Jake flashes a small smile to you.

"Can you come here for a while, please?"

Your head tilts slightly but still turning your heels around and walk towards Jake.

"Yes, Mr. Sim. May I help you?"

A few seconds passed by before Jake looks up at you with a wider smile. He then turns to his dad.

"Dad, actually, I'm planning to marry Ms. Y/LN."

"WHAT?!"

Both you and his dad said in unison. As if on cue, both of you also look at each other with eyes widened.

"I-"

"Y/n..."

Jake cut you off by calling your name softly, making you turn to him with the same widened eyes.

"I'm sorry I had to propose to you this way when I already had plan to surprised you. I promise I'll make it up to you, okay."

You and Jake are not really strangers. Both of you went to the same high school back then and reunited when you first entered the company as Mr. Sim's - his dad's - secretary.

The difference is that both of you barely talk to each other. You only know each other's name, and that's it. So, when Jake suddenly confessed to his dad that he wants to marry you, it makes you dumbstruck.

"I never knew you and Jake are dating, Ms. Y/LN."

You turn your head to Mr. Sim and open your mouth to say something. But nothing seems to come out.

"I asked her to keep it private since it had only been a few months since we got together."

Jake told another lie. You turn to Jake to say something. But, before you can do anything, he reaches out to hold your hand and flashing a soft smile to you.

"But every time I'm with her, I felt nothing but love, warmth, and comfort. That's how I know she's the one for me."

God, if you didn't know any better, you would have said that he's telling the truth. Anyone would coo at how adorable Jake is despite he is telling a lie. That is how good all of this is.

To tell the truth, you have always found Jake attractive just like other girls. Although both of you have never talk to one another, you did observe him from time to time.

Just like any other schools, there will always be at least a heartthrob - and Jake happened to be one of it during high school along with his other two friends.

As much as you would like to mind your own business, you can't help your eyes to look at him from afar. Every time he's around his friends, he will always have that big happy smile that can melt any hearts around him.

You find it cute and adorable at the same time. But that was it. He was only your eye candy back in high school.

Yet, here you are, in his car as his out-of-nowhere fiancé.

After he - somehow - proposed to you in front of his dad, he asked for Mr. Sim's permission to bring you out for the day, saying that he wants to make it up to you.

Of course, being the loving understanding dad, he allowed it without knowing that it was all just a scam.

"Where are we going, Mr. Sim?" You asked.

"Somewhere other than the office." Jake gave a simple answer.

Just like that, both of you are back in the silence. You turn your head to look out the window as Jake continue to focus on his driving. As much you want to say something, you feel like it's best to give each other some space.

You don't know how long have passed by but the way the cityscape suddenly changed into beach view proved to you that Jake has brought you somewhere far. Probably an hour or two.

Jake slows down the speed as the car reaching to its destination. He pulled the hand brake and turn the gear into 'P'. He let out a deep sigh before unbuckling his seatbelt and open the door.

You watch as Jake exits the car and walk towards the sandy area. After a while, you decide to follow him. You open the door and walk towards the man, standing beside him.

You were about to speak when suddenly Jake cut you off.

"I'm sorry."

You just keep quiet, allowing Jake to continue his words.

"I'm sorry I pulled you into this mess. I dislike the idea of anyone forcing me to date, let alone get married."

"Then, why didn't you say so?"

Jake bites his lower lips. "I can't. I know I'm the only heir that my dad has left. If I didn't take over, God knows what will happen to the company."

You turn towards Jake. "Then, why me? Am I not being forced to get married with you?"

Jake's eyes soften at your words. You're right. He did force you to do something you don't want to when he himself hate when someone did that to him.

What a hypocrite.

"Y/n. I know we don't really know each other that much. But I need your help. Just this once. After I become the CEO, we will discuss the next step. Is that okay?"

You look into Jake's eyes. This is the first time in your whole life have you seen him looking so desperate. His demeanour used to be confident. It's almost as if he got everything under control.

But today, today is different. He looks like someone who is willing to do anything just so he could keep his title. Just the thought of it makes you scoff lightly.

"Okay, I will help you just this once. You owe me big time, Mr. Sim."

You held out your hand for Jake to shake.

"You won't be disappointed, Ms. Y/L/N."

Flashback:

Finally, lunch hour, students' favourite time of the day. As usual, Jake would spend his time with his best friends - Jay and Sunghoon.

"Should we go on a trip during summer?" Sunghoon asked.

"What about Jeju?"

"We've been there a lot of times, Jay," Jake said.

Jay poked his rice using the spoon as a pout formed on his face.

"But I like it there. The view is beautiful."

Jake and Sunghoon looked at each other before laughing together.

"You're so cute when you're sulking," the youngest among them teased.

As Jay and Sunghoon were having their normal banters, Jake's eyes fell upon a girl. A girl in her ponytail, eating her food with her friends around her. From time to time, she would engage with the conversation as well by joining them or simply laughed at her friend's joke.

Jake saw her for the first time when he was walking out the infirmary. He was not feeling well that day, so he decided to take a rest.

Coincidentally, she was walking towards the infirmary as well. She stopped on her track when she saw him.

"Are you okay," she asked.

Jake nodded his head at her. "I'm good."

She smiled softly at him. "That's a relief. Take a break when you need it. Don't push yourself too much. You deserve some break."

She walked away after conveying her message, leaving Jake at the hallway.

Ever since then, he would see her almost everywhere at school. Wherever he went to, she would be there as well. It was as if fate was trying to match them together.

"You're staring again," Jay said as he nudged Jake's shoulder.

"You should really just talk to her at this point."

Jake shook his head lightly. "No, I like it like this. It's better like this."

Sunghoon let out a sigh and Jay shrugged his shoulder before both of them continue eating their foods.

Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake had always been together ever since they were little. Yet, ever since Jake met her, it was as if a new side of Jake appeared right before their eyes. Surprisingly, it only appeared whenever the girl was around. Whenever you were around.

Jake claimed that it was him admiring someone. But to Jay and Sunghoon, it was definitely more than that.

—

“I never knew this day would come.”

You just smile at your dad’s words as you continue to eat your food with Jake beside you.

Two weeks after the so-called-proposal that Jake pulled in front of his dad, both of you decided to visit your parents to lay out the message. Well, technically you told Jake to meet your parents. If they approved of him, then you’re good to go.

“Thank you, uncle and auntie, for allowing me inside this beautiful house of yours.”

Your mom let out a soft laugh. “Our house is small compared to yours. It is our honour that you are willing to come to our house instead.”

True to your mom’s words, you were not born with golden spoon. Compared to Jake’s family, yours are more of in the middle class. Your family didn’t gain as much as Sim’s family, but it's already more than enough.

“How do you find the foods, Jake?”

Jake looks up to your mom and flashes her a happy grin.

So cute, just like a kid, you thought to yourself.

“It’s so delicious. It’s true what they said. No foods can ever be compared to a mother’s cooking.”

Everyone including you laugh at his words. You missed being in this environment. So warm, so full of love and affections. No, you don’t have bad blood with your family. You were just rarely home due to your work.

But now that you’re here, you aren’t going to miss a chance to spend more time with your family as much as you can.

As the night came, your dad and Jake decided to spend their time together at the backyard of your house, giving you a chance to spend time with your mom.

Your dad sips on the coffee that he made earlier.

“Why did you choose Y/n?”

Jake turns his head to look at the elder man beside him. With a small smile on his face, Jake lifts his head to the sky.

“Y/n is a nice woman. She cares for others a lot. She would do anything to make everyone around her happy. She will give her 100% towards something that matters to her.”

Jake lets out a soft sigh, almost dreamily.

“Before I know it, I want to be with her. I want to be there for her. I want to do things for her. I want to care for her. I want to protect her.”

Jake swallows his saliva, trying to maintain his composure in front of his soon-to-be father-in-law.

“So, you want to marry my daughter just because she is nice?”

Your dad’s question makes Jake look at him, who is already looking at Jake. Jake smile to himself before shaking his head.

“No, I did not ask for her hand simply because she is nice. I want to marry her because she makes me better as a human being. Everything seems smooth every time we are together. Before I know it, I can’t imagine myself with anyone but her. She is the only woman I want to have a future with. No one else, but y/n.”

Your dad considered his words carefully. He then put his hand on Jake’s shoulder.

“Y/n… she is our only child. She had always done things by herself. There are times where we would feel worried for her. Well, up until now, we still are. So, when she brought you back home, her mom and I felt better. At least we know that she won’t be alone forever.”

Jake just smiles at your dad’s words. Oh, how would he feel if he knew our marriage is only for a while, he thought.

“Thank you, Jake, for looking after our angel. She is everything to us. I hope you feel the same as well.”

Jake just nods his head at your dad’s words before both of them drink the coffee from their own cup.

Making you as his everything; will Jake be able to do that?

Flashback:

Jake had lost count on how many drinks he had tonight. As he tried to reach for another one, Jay hit his hand, making him groaned in pain.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Jake? You looked like a mess.”

Jake just scoffed at Jay’s words. He looked up at his friends and gritted his teeth.

“Easy for you to say. You didn’t go through what I went through. It hurts. It fucking hurts.”

Sunghoon sigh for the nth times for the night. Both him and Jay had been trying to understand Jake's situation. But the only thing Jake revealed was that he broke up with his girlfriend. That was it. He didn’t say how nor why. No matter how many times they asked him, he kept his mouth shut.

“I really love her, guys. I don’t think I can live without her.”

Jay rubbed his forehead, trying to calm himself down from exploding to the drunken man. The words “he’s my friend” keep on chanting in his head. He was about to open his mouth, but Sunghoon cut him off.

“Die then.”

Jake looked up at his friend’s words. His eyes widened, surprised at the sudden reaction.

“The fuck did you just say to me?!”

Sunghoon shrugged his shoulder. “You said you can’t live without her. So, go on and die. It’s easy.”

Jake’s eyes that were filled with tears turned into anger. He stood up from his seat and grabbed Sunghoon’s collar, making everyone including Jay surprised.

“You think you are better than me?!”

Sunghoon held Jake’s hand with his before smirking at him.

“I am. I’m not the drunk one here.”

Jake’s hand turned into a fist. God, he hated Sunghoon at this moment. He fucking hates the guy in front of him. He was about to punch Sunghoon, but Jay managed to stop it by pushing his fist away and broke off his grip from Sunghoon’s collar.

“Enough! Both of you, out!”

They stared at each other angrily before walking out of the premise with Jay following behind.

Minutes have passed since they were sitting outside of a convenience store. Not long after, Jay walked out of the store with canned coffees and a water bottle in his hands. He gave one of the coffees to Sunghoon and the water bottle to Jake.

The three of them continued to stay in silence before Jake decided to break it first.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t lash out to you.”

Sunghoon pursued his lips. “I’m sorry too. It was immature of me trying to stir you up.”

Jay just looked at both of his friends with a smile. This is the friendship that the three always had. Countless of fights, countless of apologies. It’s hard sometimes, but this friendship is important to them, and they knew they need each other.

“I just… I don’t know if I can love other person the way I love her.”

Jay reached out to pat his friend’s back.

“You will bro. You will. Trust me.”

Jake just nodded his head, too tired to even say anything at this point. All he knew was that he loved his now ex-girlfriend with all his heart. He gave her everything that he could give. Time, presents, everything.

Yet, it still ended this way. Four years of relationship, ended just like that. Jake really thought that she would be his forever. Well, he thought wrong. Maybe it’s time for him to focus on himself. He had been focusing on others for too long. He deserved his own peaceful time.

“Ah, right. We heard that y/n got into your dad’s company as his secretary.”

Sunghoon’s words interrupted Jake from his own thoughts. Jake’s brows frowned at the sudden mention of your name.

“Yeah, why?”

Jay who was silent suddenly sat up straight on his chair and looked at Jake.

“Really?! Y/n is working with your dad? The y/n?”

Jake nodded his head slowly.

“Yeah. It’s almost a month now if I’m not mistaken.”

Jay let out a relief sigh before patting Jake’s shoulder.

“That’s nice. You get to work with the one you admired before.”

Right. You were the woman that he admired up until the end of high school. After both of you graduated, you and Jake parted ways, following your own dream. It’s not like both of you had special connections anyway. The interactions that you had with him were not enough for both of you to be considered as a friend.

But now that Jay and Sunghoon mentioned about it, Jake was reminded of the first day you stepped into the company.

He would never admit in front of his friends that he actually got excited when he saw you walking into the office. It had been so long since he last saw you.

You looked more mature than when you were in high school. The outfit that you had on was professional, yet it made you look beautiful. As beautiful as Jake remembered.

You might slowly lose your teenage features, but you still managed to turn Jake’s head effortlessly – just like when both of you were in high school.

—

Three months after the proposal and a day after the wedding ceremony, you found yourself entering an unfamiliar house – Jake’s house. It's official. You are now Mrs. Sim Y/n.

You look around the living room. You did not expect his house to look neat and cozy at the same time. With all the furniture being white in colour, it made the interior looks more spacious than it already is.

You never thought of him as a guy who would pay much attention to the interior. He looked like the type of guy that might hire any designer and let them do their magic.

"Having fun?"

You whip your head to the voice behind you. There he is, standing in all his glory, your - now - husband.

"You have good eyes."

Your compliment makes Jake's lips curl up into a smile. A smile that you used to see since high school.

"Thanks."

He walks towards you. Before you could do anything, his hand reaches for yours and he bring it up to his face, enough to look at the ring on your finger.

He looks at how it sparkles with a small smile before kissing it softly, a small gasp escapes your lips but not enough to reach Jake's ears.

“Thank you for marrying me, y/n,” he said sincerely.

Your heart soften at his words. Unconsciously, you rub his hand that is holding yours since earlier.

“It’s nothing. Besides, it will only be for a while, right?”

Jake just hums softly at your words. Of course, he didn’t forget about it. Heck, he was the one who came up with all of these. Contract marriage – and it will last up until he got his title as the CEO.

"Just so you know y/n, although it is only for a while, I will still perform my duty as your husband until the end of it."

You look into Jake's eyes, trying to see if there is any hidden agenda. But all you can see is honesty and sincerity.

Jake is known as a man of his words. He is not someone who would turn away from his promise, let alone lying. Heck, he doesn't even know how to lie.

You've seen his attempts to lie during high school and it always ended with him stuttering and his cheeks slowly turning crimson. His lips jutted out into a cute pout, resembling a puppy sulking.

Everyone was telling you that ‘you're so lucky to have him as your husband’, not knowing that this marriage has its own expiry date. Sooner or later, both of you will put this into an end. You know that.

And yet, you can't help but feel a little tug on your heart when Jake said the last few words.

Refused to let your emotion to get the best of you, you flash him a small smile.

"I will do my best as Mrs. Sim as well while it last."

Ever since then, Jake and you have done nothing but keep your words.

Every morning before going to work, you would prepare him breakfast and eat together with him. Then, both of you would go to the office together. When both of you are done with your job, he would wait for you in the car to go back home together.��

After you’re done with your shower, you would prepare dinner while waiting for Jake to finish washing up. Then, both of you would sit together and have dinner while having a small talk in between.

During the weekends, Jake will ask you if you have any plans. Sometimes you would tell him that you want to go out, sometimes you just want to stay at home.

If you chose to go out, he would go with you, spending his time and money for you the entire day. Not gonna lie, you've made countless attempts to pay for yourself. But Jake will always be two steps ahead from you. Guess it's the perks of marrying the Sim Jaeyun.

If you decided to stay at home, he would be there as well. Sometimes he would help you cooking – or more like purposely disturbing you. When you are reading a book, he would join you with cup of teas in hand.

Before you know it, you and Jake have become closer and more comfortable with each other. What used to be only standing side-by-side turns into walking together while holding hands. During grocery shopping, he would stand behind you and push the trolley together with you in front of him while walking through aisle by aisle. When you are watching a movie in the living room, he would lay his head on your lap and ask for your attention – just like a puppy would.

Everyone with eyes is envious of your relationship. Both of you totally looks like a happy couple. It’s as if the world belongs to both of you, and only to both of you.

Honestly, you would say the same thing to yourself as well. Jake had been nothing but a loving caring husband. He takes good care of you, always be there for you. He’s really the man of his words.

However, there are times where he can be an annoying ass. Such as right now.

You are putting on your make up to go out with him and he’s just… there, staring at you since God knows when. It was something that he would do every single time you’re getting ready be it to go to the mall or to the office. As you are finishing your touch on your blush, you let out a soft sigh and turn your head to him.

“Yes, is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Sim?”

Jake just shakes his head lightly. His lips curl up into a small smirk.

“Nothing. Just admiring my beautiful wife.”

There he goes again, teasing you. These past few weeks, he had been calling you names and giving you compliments. And he would say it with affections. Every time he did that, your heart beat for him.

God, am I in love with this man?

You roll your eyes, trying to hide the fact that he made you shy. Thanks to your blush as well that he won’t notice that your cheeks turn red because of him.

“Enough with that, Jake. Let’s go. We’ll be late.”

Jake bites his lower lips to avoid grinning too widely. Obviously, he knows how he makes you feel. You are not the only one who have been watching him since high school. He also did the same to you. Probably a tad bit more than you did – and you don’t need to know that.

So, he would know how you look when you’re happy and upset. He knows the difference between your real and fake smile. He knows about it.

He might not say it out loud but ever since he told you he would do his part as your husband; he didn’t think it will be this far. At first, he thought he would just provide for you and that’s it.

But he was wrong. The more he spends his time with you, the more he knows the real you. The more he talks to you, the more he craves for your affection. He used to sleep on his side the first few days after marriage. Now, he can’t imagine not having you in his arms at night. He might not even be able to sleep if you were not there for him to hug.

He knew it would be easy to get married to you. You won’t cause him troubles. You won’t stress him out. You know how to take care of yourself. You know how to do things on your own.

But he didn’t expect that it would be this easy for him to be himself around you. He didn’t know it would be easy for him to accept you into his new life. Most importantly, he didn’t know that he could love again like how he used to.

Actually, scratch that. He loves you more than he used to love anyone in his life. That speaks volume. If Jay and Sunghoon are here, they would give him the ‘I told you so’ look.

I love y/n. I really love this woman with all my heart.

“Y/n?”

You and Jake were walking with your arm around his when suddenly a voice called out for you. You turn to your back, and your jaw dropped instantly at your sight. Without second thought, you let go of your husband and run towards the person.

“Sunoo! What are you doing here?”

You pulled Sunoo into a hug, and he reciprocates by wrapping his arms around your waist. Your husband’s eyes widened at the sight.

Did she forget she has a husband?! Jake thought to himself.

You released Sunoo from the hug so that he can reply to you better.

“I was just walking around. Didn’t expect you to be here as well.”

You nod your head at him. After a few seconds, you turn to Jake and call him using your hand gesture.

Jake walks beside you. His eyes shooting hole into Sunoo’s face as his jaw tighten.

“I know you’ve met him before, but this is Jake, my husband.”

You introduced the man to Sunoo and lands your head against your husband’s shoulder, completely oblivious at how pissed Jake looked right now.

Unlike you, Sunoo as a man, can see how jealous the man in front of him is. I mean, which husband won’t be jealous when his wife hugs another guy right in front of his face. Smiling to himself, Sunoo politely held out his hand towards Jake.

“Hey, we met at the wedding but I’m Sunoo, y/n’s friend.”

Jake didn’t say anything but shakes Sunoo’s hand, for the sake of you. He pulls his hand away almost instantly, making the other man’s lips curl into a small smirk.

“Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds behind. Don’t want to interrupt the date. See you when I see you, y/n.”

Sunoo pats your arm and give Jake a courtesy nod before walking away, leaving you together with your husband.

You were about to say something when Jake beat you to it.

“Is it fun being friendly with another guy in front of your husband’s face?”

You blink your eyes at the sudden burst of jealousy from Jake. You study his face properly. His cheeks are red as a result of him trying to hold back his anger. His lips forming a pout, the same one that you’ve witnessed since high school.

Jake looks so adorable right now that he makes you snort lightly.

“Oh? Is my husband jealous?”

Jake squints his eyes at you before turning his head away.

“Any husband would hate to see his wife being all over a guy other than him.”

He is jealous, you thought to yourself. You were about to console him, but before you could say anything, Jake decided to walk ahead of you, purposely leaving you as a sign of protest.

His action makes you scoff. Despite his height being taller than you and not to mention his status higher than you, he still acts like a kid. You shake your head before chasing after him.

“Where are you going~” you asked him teasingly.

“Away from you.”

You let out a soft ‘ooh’ before continuing to chase after him. When you are within the reach, you hold his hand, stopping him from his track. Although his body is facing you, his head is still facing the other side.

You bring his hand to your lips and leave a soft kiss against his knuckle. You can feel him stiffen at your sudden action, but he still refuses to face you. You let out a soft sigh before your lips curl up into a smile.

It’s usually the husband you have to persuade his wife, but now, it’s the other way around – and you are not complaining about it.

“You don’t have to worry about it, Jake. I’m not his type.”

Your words manage to make Jake faces you. His brows that were frowning earlier become deeper as he heard your sentences.

“Why? You are beautiful. You are nice. Anyone would want you. How can you not be his ideal type? Does he think that he’s better than y-”

Jake’s mouth was stopped by your finger against it. If only he’s not upset with you, he might as well kiss it. But his ego got the best of him, so he just stands there silently.

“It’s not like that. What I mean to say is… women are not his type.”

Your husband nods his head when you explain-

“Wait. So, Sunoo is…”

He doesn’t need to complete his sentence when you’re already nodding your head, knowing what he was about to ask. Unconsciously, Jake let out a loud sigh of relief. He thought that someone was about to sweep you off your feet.

Well, even if Sunoo did, he knows he will make sure to bring you back into his arms one way or another.

Jake looks at you who is now smiling innocently at him.

Fuck, how can she look so adorable.

Refused to back down, he clears his throat and pinch your nose lightly, making sure it won’t hurt you. You scrunch your nose at him. You were about to pinch his cheek as a revenge, but he managed to stop your hand.

He then leans his face close to yours.

“But I still don’t like how you left and hug him in front of me. Don’t do that again, alright.”

Your lips form a pout, but you nod obediently at his words. Of course, you should know that no matter how close you are with your guy friends, you must remember that you have a husband to take care of.

“Okay. I’m sorry for leaving you and hug him like that.”

Jake’s lips curl up into a smile, hearing your apologies. He takes your hand that was in his earlier and kiss it lovingly. Your eyes turn to the other side, an attempt to hide away your shyness. Jake just chuckles lightly at your actions before planting another kiss on top of your head.

“Shall we get going now?”

—

Two months later, you and Jake are attending the company’s annual gala night. However, this gala night is special because it is also the night that Mr. Sim, your father-in-law, will pass down the responsibilities as CEO to his son.

Although you are excited for Jake, you can’t seem to throw away the thoughts that your marriage will come to an end. Yes, both you and Jake are happy with each other. Happier than you had been in your life. But it still doesn’t change the fact that he got married to you just so he could gain the title as his dad’s successor.

A tap on your shoulder wakes you up from your thoughts. You look to your side, just to see your husband tilting his head slightly.

“What is this? Are you thinking about other man than me?”

He squints his eyes at you like how he would usually do. You hiss at him and hit his shoulder lightly.

“Why should I think about other people, when my husband is with me?”

You wrap your arm around his as your other hand rub against the spot that you hit earlier gently. Jake smiles softly at you before pecking your forehead softly, making sure not to ruin your make up and hairdo.

You and Jake continue to greet the guests. From time to time, you would join in their conversation but mostly you let Jake do the talking.

Suddenly, the hall light shuts down and a spotlight shine at the centre of the stage. There, stand Mr. Sim on the podium, getting ready to deliver his speech. Everyone’s attention diverts to the man.

He clears his throat and run his eyes across the hall.

“Good evening to everyone. I would like to thank all of you for your time tonight. I believe we already know the purpose of tonight considering that we did this every year.”

Everyone including you laugh at Mr. Sim’s greetings.

“As mentioned, we held the gala night annually without fail. Personally, it’s a way for me to appreciate everyone’s effort in making this business grow bigger each year.”

The hall is filled with claps.

“But tonight is different than before. Unlike the previous gala night, we are not only here to have fun. It is also the night where I will make an important announcement that will change the company into a better one.”

You look to your side, just to see that Jake is fidgeting and gulping nervously. You smile to yourself before leaning to his ear.

“You will be fine, Jake. I’m here with you.”

Jake turns to look at you, who is already smiling at him. Just like that, he can feel his anxiousness slowly tone down. It’s funny how before this Jake is so opposed to getting married just for the title.

Now, he understands why his dad said what he said to him before. True to his words, behind every successful man, there’s his wife. Jake never thought that he will see the day where there’s a woman behind him.

But with you supporting him directly, he believes that he can go through all the challenges and difficulties that he will face in the future. No matter how hard it is, he’s willing to go through it as long as you are with him.

Just like that, from this moment, Jake vow to himself that he will never, ever, let you go.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Without further ado, I present to you, the Sim’s new successor, Sim Jaeyun.”

The sound of claps filled the hall once again for the night. A spotlight pointed to Jake. He looks around the hall with a proud smile and bow his head politely. Before he walks up the stage, he turns towards you and hold your hands. Without second thought, he brings your hands and place a long kiss against it, making everyone looks at both of you with awe.

You nudge your hand lightly against his lips, making him look up at your crimson red face.

“Faster go,” you mouthed at him. He grins widely at you and flash you a wink before letting go of your hands and walks up onto the stage.

You just watch the view in front of you with a proud smile. Your husband is hugging your father-in-law so tightly. He is so proud of his own son, just like how he is proud with Jake’s older brother when he saw how successful he had become.

“Congratulations Mrs. Sim for your achievement.”

A voice said beside you, making your head turn to the owner. Turns out the owner of the voice belongs to Sunghoon as he stands next to you.

“You must be so proud of him.”

Another voice said on your other side, and you know it belongs to Jay. You just shake your head lightly at both of their remarks.

“Of course I’m proud of him. But I didn’t do anything for you to congratulate me.”

Jay looks at you for a short while before turning back to the stage. Both of his hands are in his pocket as he watches Jake giving his thank you speech.

“No, you deserve the wish as well. In fact, we must thank you for everything that you’ve done for Jake.”

You frown slightly at Jay’s words. You don’t quite understand what he meant by that. But, as you were about to ask, Sunghoon cut you off.

“Yeah, he’s a better man now, because of you.”

Despite your confusion, both of the men’s words still manage to soften your heart. Before you know it, tears escaped your cheeks. That was the nicest thing someone has ever tell you. You didn’t know that you needed until tonight.

Being recognized by Jake’s best friend just hit a certain spot in you. You made a mental note to ask about it later. But for now, you decide to focus on the man’s speech.

“… And to my wife, know that I will not be able to do this without you. You have been nothing but my strength and my support. You were there through ups and downs. I thank you so much. You are my woman and will always be my woman.”

Everyone howls at Jake’s words and the two men besides you whistle proudly. You just shake your head while letting out a chuckle and clap your hands. Jake is so silly. Your husband is so silly – and you will never ask for anything better than this.

After the end of the speech, you and Jake continue to talk to the guests with his arm circling around your waist the entire time. They all congratulate both of you for Jake’s achievements in becoming the new CEO. It is safe to say that the night went smoothly.

But nothing in this world is perfect, right?

“Congratulations, Jake.”

There, standing in front of you, a beautiful, mesmerizing woman in a gorgeous emerald green dress. She looks so breathtakingly beautiful to the point that your jaw drops slightly at her presence.

Unlike you, Jake’s smile falls upon seeing her. He clenches his jaw and tighten his grips against your waist. He forgot that her parents were invited to the gala by his dad. So naturally, she would be here as well.

“Thanks, Yunjin.”

The woman’s smile widens at the way Jake called her name. Her eyes then shift to you, who is still lost in her beauty. Yunjin let out a chuckle.

“Hi, my name is Yunjin, Jake’s friend.”

Bullshit, he thought.

You blink your eyes for a few seconds, trying to wake up from your own daze.

“Ah, I see. I’m y/n, Jake’s wife. He never mentions that he has such a beautiful friend as you.”

Yunjin looks at Jake for a few moments before letting out another chuckle. Her cheeks are now a bit red from your compliment.

Her laugh also sounds beautiful like her, you thought to yourself.

“Please don't say that. You are more beautiful, y/n. Besides, it’s been so long since we last met each other as well,” she said before her eyes fall upon Jake once again for the night, just to see that Jake is already looking at her.

Your eyes turn to look at Jake and Yunjin back and forth. Jake is staring at her with an expression that you don’t quite understand, while Yunjin is looking at him softly, exactly like a woman missing her partner.

That’s when it clicked in your head. You’ve heard that Jake had a girlfriend the first day you joined the company. If your guess is right, Yunjin is his ex-girlfriend. Saying that she is just a friend is a way of her being considerate of your feelings.

You don’t know what happened, but deep inside, you know that there are some unfinished businesses. You felt it through the tension that is slowly building up between them. Not even the sharpest knife can cut through it.

Before you know it, your gaze drops to the floor. Clearly, you are upset with the situation. But who are you to say anything. They had their own past. It was all just an old story. It was his past.

That’s what you keep telling yourself.

“Well, I better get going. You guys must have a lot of things to do.”

Yunjin’s words manage to pull you into reality.

“See you around, y/n.”

You try your best to smile sincerely, doing your best to show that none of these are affecting you.

“See you around, Yunjin.”

With the same previous smile on her face, she nods her head at you before once again turning to face Jake.

“Jake.”

She called out his name, but the only thing he did was nods his head towards her as his eyes turns somewhere else, refusing to meet her eyes.

Yunjin then walks away from you. You didn’t know how long it had been but the sigh that you let out indicating that you’ve been holding your breath for quite a while now. Your heart beats so loud as if it’s about to jump out of your body.

You swallow your saliva to calm yourself down before excusing yourself from your husband, saying that you need to go to the washroom.

Just like that, Jake is left alone in the middle of the hall. He frowns at the situation. Fuck, he said to himself. He should have handled it better.

Jake knows that you are upset. Going to the washroom was just a way for you to walk away from the previous commotion. As if meeting his ex-girlfriend is not the worse part of the night, his best friend came to him, probably to lecture him.

“What happened, Jake,” the older one asked.

Jake bites his lower lips.

“She came and greet us…”

“And?” Sunghoon encouraged Jake to continue his words.

“And I didn’t know how to react to it. I thought that if I said something, I might… I might…”

I might lose control and y/n might hate me for it, Jake continued inside his mind.

Jay drapes his arm around Jake’s shoulder, pulling him into a side hug in hopes it can at least comfort him after what just happened.

The guys know that it’s not easy for Jake to communicate with his ex, considering that they had a good time together just for it to end all of a sudden. But they can’t also invalid your feelings.

As a wife, they knew you must have figured out that they had something going on back then. It’s understandable that you would be upset over it even though it already ended long time ago.

“I don’t know what’s going on between you and Yunjin, but I want you to remember that you have y/n now. One thing I can see from her is that she’s loyal and sincere. She’s a woman, your wife. Whatever you want to do, consider her feelings as well.”

Jake nods his head at Sunghoon’s words. He inhales deeply and exhale, trying to calm himself down. He puffs out his cheeks as he collects his inner thoughts.

“Do you think I can be a good husband to y/n?”

Jay and Sunghoon steal a glance to each other before their lips curl up into a smirk.

“It’s up to you, man. But I think you have always been waiting for her. Ever since high school, you’ve wait for her. Now that she’s in front of you, why not grab your chance?”

Jake looks up at Jay as the older one encouraged him to move forward. Jay nods his head at Jake.

“And a little birdie told me that she is also waiting for you at the balcony just outside of the hall,” Sunghoon said as he pointed the place with his face to Jake.

Jake scoffs at himself. He can’t believe he is down bad for you. The fact that his best friends had been his witnesses made him feel even more dumb than he already is. He then pulls both Jay and Sunghoon into a hug.

They hug the man back and their hug last for quite a while. It was at this moment that reminds Jake once again just how important Sunghoon and Jay are in his life. His ride or die. The one who would be there to give him facts, no matter how hurtful it is. The one who would give motivations for him whenever he needs it. And he would gladly do the same to them as well.

Jake let go of his friends. With a deep breath, he walks towards the balcony where you are leaning against railing.

Although your back is facing him, he can’t deny the fact that you look glowing in your white dress. The way your head tilted slightly to the sky, allowing the moon to shine its light to you. You look better than his dreams.

With careful steps, he walks towards you.

“What are you thinking, princess?”

You turn your head slightly at the voice, before facing forwards again.

“Nothing important.”

“Then, why do you look like a damsel in distress, my lady?”

The closeness of his voice startled you. You didn’t realize when it happened, but his arms are already on your side, trapping you against the balcony. Slowly, you turn your back towards him. Your eyes move from down and up to his face.

You’ve always thought Jake as a handsome man. But right now, he looks even better than before. His face is so close that you can see the length of his eyelashes. His nose that would occasionally bump into your head and cheeks as he leaves pecks here and there. His lips… the same lips that would kiss you everywhere but your lips.

The last time you felt it against yours was when you were pronounced as husband and wife. It was a short one, but you can still feel it tingling against yours. You would do anything just to feel that lips once again.

However, you know you can’t. Not when he was about to divorce you right here, right now. Mustering your courage, you look into his eyes. Although your tears are threatening to escape, you’re trying your best to hold it in by burying your nails into your hand.

“Jake, congratulations. You’re finally where you want to be now. You’ve been working so hard to prove that you’re worth it. Now, you got it.”

Jake’s eyes soften at your words and his grip weakens. You sniff before continuing your words.

“Thank you for being a husband for me. A real one at that. I didn’t know anyone would do anything for me aside from my parents. There is not a single moment where I regret having you as my husband. Thank you for everything that you did for me. I will cherish all the memories until the end of my life.”

As you finished your sentence, the tears that you’ve been holding back finally roll down your cheeks. You have said everything that you want to say. Whatever happens after this, you will accept it with all your heart. When Jake decides to stop everything with you, you will have to be ready to let him go.

Jake’s hands move up to cup your face. You close your eyes at what about to happen.

Do it. I’ll be fine. I can take it.

You can feel his thumbs brushes your tears away, but then you feel his lips against your forehead. You open your eyes and look up at him, just to see him looking at you with a loving smile. His tears run down his cheeks, mirroring yours. Jake takes a deep breath. He then looks at you again with the same smile.

“Let’s end this.”

He said it. He finally said it. The words that you were waiting to hear from him. He said it. You thought that you could handle it, but your reaction proves you wrong.

You burst into crying in his hands. Every emotion that you’ve been holding back are showing itself. You are not okay. You will never be okay. Call you selfish, but you want to be with him always and forever. You need Jake, even if he didn’t need you.

Or so you thought.

“Let’s stop pretending, and love each other for real.”

His words managed to make you look at him with your eyes widened. The expression of your face clearly shows Jake that it was not what you expected to hear tonight. You thought that he would divorce you. After he got the position as CEO, he would put this to an end. That’s how it should be.

You try to breath properly. Looking at how difficult it is for you to calm down, he moves one of his hands and rubs your back while his other hand caressing your cheeks softly. Jake inhale and exhale along with you, in hopes for you to follow his breathing pattern.

When you’ve finally calm down, you blink your tears away from your eyes, trying to see Jake in a clear view.

“But you told me that you would end this marriage after you get the title.”

Jake looks at you for a few seconds before letting out a soft laugh. He didn’t miss the pout that is forming on your face, making you look like a little girl crying for her lollipop. He shakes his head.

“I may have implied that, and I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes never leave Jake as you wait for him to continue his words.

“I thought that whatever we had between us will merely be another fleeting moment. But the more I’m with you, the greedier I became. What started of as pretending, I want it to be real. All of the moments that I had with you was everything I could imagine. Hell, it was better than my imaginations. You made it so easy to be with you. To cherish you. To care for you. Before I knew it, I want you all to myself.”

Jake’s arm that was on your back quickly circles your waist, pulling you close to his body. Slowly, he leans to your face, just enough for his lips to brush against yours.

“You are my lady. You are my woman. You are my wife. You are mine, and I’m not letting you go, ever.”

You gasp at his words. You can’t think straight after what you just heard. Who knows a guy like Jake can also be this romantic towards someone. Even more towards you. You, who just happened to study in the same school and work in the same place as he is. There are thousands of women he could go for, and yet he chose to settle down with you. At this point, you can die happily.

“So, what do you say, Mrs. Sim? Are you in for it, or you want to run away? But just so you know, I will chase you to the end of the world if you choose the latter.”

Your eyes search for his, just to see that he’s already gazing at you with sincerity, passion, and a hint of something you’ve never seen before. The guy that you’ve been watching and only watching are in front of you with his arm clinging onto your waist protectively.

You know that if you try to say anything, your voice will betray you. So, you opt for the easier choice – nodding your head, indicating that you’re saying yes to him.

The corner of Jake’s lips curls up into a small smirk before he claims your lips with his. After holding back for so long, he finally has you in his arms as his one and only. Good things always come to those who wait. Jake might have to study more about the philosophies considering that it had been proven real to him.

The kiss that both of you shares are filled with a lot of passion and affections. All the restrains that you and Jake put onto yourself are now broken. His hands are now rubbing on your side as he turns his head to the other side, deepening the kiss. You let Jake lead the kiss as you circle your arms around his neck to prevent you from falling.

You are not surprised that his kiss will make you weak at your knees. You have always known he would be a good kisser. But you didn’t expect that he will kiss you as if his life depends on it.

A moan escapes from you when Jake purposely bites your lower lips. Both of you pull away slightly to take a breath. Looking at Jake’s expression, you finally understand the meaning behind his gaze earlier.

As for Jake, he is staring at you. You look more beautiful than you already are with your lips slightly swollen because of him – and he takes pride in it. He was planning to tease you when he bit you earlier. He didn’t know that you would make a sound that could awakened something in him. He knew that he won’t be able to take it if he didn’t control himself, so he put your kiss into a halt.

Jake brushes his nose gently against yours, making you look up to him. His hand moves up to caress your cheek once again.

“All the time spent of me looking at you from afar back in school, I knew it’s going to be worth it.”

Your cheeks turn bright red at his words, but it didn’t fail to make you frown in confusion.

“Looking at me? You were looking at me the whole time?! I thought I was the one doing that to you?”

Jake chuckles at your words before placing a soft peck against your nose.

“You weren’t the only one who have great eyes.”

He winks at you, making you laugh along with him. You didn’t know that he was doing the same thing that you did to him. Maybe you are fated for him, just like he thought when he met you for the first time.

“I love you, Mrs. Sim Y/n.”

“I love you too, Mr. Sim Jaeyun.”

Both of you stay in silent, just admiring each other before Jake decided to break it.

“So, shall we go and continue this somewhere else? I don’t think I can hold myself longer.”

Your jaw dropped at his words before hitting his chest. He winces in pain and rubs the spot before turning to you and steals a kiss on your lips. He then picks you up bridal style and bring you back home, where you will be spending time with him all night long, skin-to-skin.

—

It had been months since Jake was announced as the new CEO of the infamous Sim’s company. The business starts to grow even more. A lot of international clients are interested to work alongside with Jake. He is compatible, responsible, and most importantly, he knows what he wants, and he knows he will get it.

But of course, you were there with him the whole time. Ever since you and Jake confessed to each other, both of you are becoming more and more clingy and loving towards each other. Nevertheless, you know the difference between professionalism and personal, considering that you are now working as your husband’s secretary.

You tried to deny his offer a lot of times before, saying that it will be a talk of the office if she becomes his secretary. But knowing Jake, he wants to make sure that you are with him all the time. Well, he wishes for you to be with him every time.

Until he has a business trip to attend to.

“Are you sure you don’t want to follow me? You can rest there,” Jake tried to persuade you for the nth times to follow him to the trip. His lips keep on placing kisses to yours with his arms around your waist, an attempt to melt your down.

“But you will be working, my love. I don’t want to go anywhere without you. It will feel incomplete without you by my side.”

Jake groans softly at your words, but he can’t deny it as well. You are telling the truth. He will be working all day and will only come back at night. If he were at your shoes, he would refuse to go as well. What’s the point of going on a trip with your spouse if you can’t spend time together properly.

But it doesn’t change the fact that Jake is still sad, thinking about not having you with him for three days straight. Naturally, a pout forms on his face, showing that he’s still upset.

You let out a soft sigh as you look at your husband. You then stand on your toe and kiss his pout away.

“Let’s put it this way – the sooner you take off, the sooner you will be back with me. Does that sound better to you?”

Jake just nods his head obediently, once again resembling a puppy. He then pulls you into a tight hug.

“I love you, Mrs. Sim. Remember that, okay?”

The corner of your lips curls up into a smile as your rub your husband’s back up and down.

“I love you too, Mr. Sim. Always and forever.”

Both of you let go of each other, yet your hands are still intertwined with one another. The sight makes you chuckle a bit.

“You need to go. Don’t want you to miss the flight.”

Jake nods his head once again. After leaving kisses on your head, down to your forehead, eyes, nose and lips, he finally walks into the gate, waving his hand at you. You wave back to him with a reassuring smile on your face.

Once he is gone from your sight, you start to miss his presence. This is the first time you had to separate with him ever since your marriage. He was always there with you, whether to comfort you, love you, or even annoy the hell out of you.

But as his wife, you know he needs your full support for him to move forward and bringing you along with him on this journey. You need to be in your optimum energy to help him achieve his dreams.

That is why you are currently in the bakery nearby your house. You can’t be energetic if you are hungry. You were scanning through all of the options when someone called your name from behind.

“Y/n?”

You turn to the owner of the voice, just to see Yunjin, looking effortlessly beautiful like she always does.

“I never thought I would bump into you here. Are you alone?”

Her question bothers you a bit, not going to lie. But you remind yourself that it was all in the past. Jake is yours, and only yours.

With a genuine smile, you look up at her. “Yeah. Jake is on a trip for a few days. I’m just running a quick errand.”

Yunjin nods her head at you. Her eyes soften at the sight of you.

“Jake is so lucky to have a wife like you. So beautiful yet so diligent.”

You look down at Yunjin’s sudden compliments. Your cheeks are slowly turning into crimson red. It makes it impossible for Yunjin not to find you adorable.

“Ah, how about we hang out whenever we have time. Here’s my number.”

Yunjin holds out her business card. You look at it. Huh Yunjin, the owner of YJ Fashion House. You knew Yunjin is an amazing woman, and her status just increase her level in your head. You take the card and keep it safely in your bag.

“Sure. Thank you for the offer Yunjin.”

She just nods her head to you. As you were about to bid her goodbye, she put you into a halt.

“Oh also, can we take a picture together? I’ve been dying to have one with you ever since we met that day.”

Your eyes twinkles at the thought of a brilliant woman such as Yunjin, wanting to take pictures with you, who are just merely a secretary to your husband. You then nod your head at her, giving her your approval.

She grins widely, showing how happy she is. Using her phone, she flips the camera so that you and Yunjin can take a few selfies.

“I will send the pictures to you later. It was nice meeting you again, y/n.”

“It was nice meeting you as well, Yunjin.”

Just like that, both of you part your ways to your own destinations, not knowing that a storm will be coming your way soon.

—

After three full days of dealing with works, Jake finally returns to your arms during the weekends. At first, Jake insists to bring you out. But you don’t want him to force himself as he needs rest.

So, during the weekends, you decided to just stay inside and pamper Jake to the fullest. Of course, being the clingy needy husband he is, he don't mind it at all. For two days straight you pay attention to him and only him, and he did the same to you.

No talking about work. Just small talks from time to time. Most of the time though you spend your time with Jake snuggling and cuddling you. You love the fact that he is not afraid to show his vulnerable side to you. He may look like he got it together in front of people, but with you, he’s still a kid stuck in a grown-up body.

But of course, that doesn’t last longer. There are times when he wants more than just be close to you – and he did just that. You don’t know how you can handle it considering that his drives are quite high.

Just like that, the weekends passed by quickly and you are back to being his secretary once again. As usual, you would inform his schedule and relay messages that you received on behalf of Jake while he was away. The files that are in need of his actions had been laid out neatly on his table.

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Sim?” You asked after you’ve finished conveying everything that he needs to know.

Jake hums softly. “Can you tell Mrs. Sim that she looks ravishing today?”

You roll your eyes at his remarks as he flashes an innocent smile at you.

“I will let her know, Mr. Sim. If there’s nothing, I will make my way.”

You bow your head respectfully before sending him a playful wink and walk out of his office.

Jake being Jake decides to follow you – specifically your butt – with his eyes until you are out of his sight. This have happened countless times before. If he ignores the professionalism between both of you, he knows he would have you in his office any time he wanted.

Without wasting any more time, Jake’s hands move across the files and papers on his tray. He lets out a soft sigh looking at the amount of works that he needs to review. Well, he did ask for it so he can’t say anything about it.

But what really catches his attention is a brown envelope, sealed perfectly. The only thing written on the envelope is Jake’s name. He takes the envelope and turn it. There, he could see the word ‘private and confidential’.

He tilts his head to the side. He doesn’t recall any agreements that he needs to sign that is confidential. With a shrug of his shoulder, he unseals the envelope. He inserts his hand into it and take out what seems to be pictures.

His curiosity changed into anger as fast as lightning at the view in front of him. His eyes are brimming with tears, threaten to fall. With shaking hands, he pressed the intercom and called you into his office.

He doesn’t sound good. You’ve known him long enough to know that he is upset just by his voice through the speaker. Without a second thought, you knock on his door and enter his office when he approves of you.

You look at his state with a frown. His face is hidden behind his arms that was connected as he clasps his hand together. If you could make a guess, you would say that he looks miserable. You were about to ask him, but he decided to speak up first.

“What were you doing when I wasn’t around?”

Your frown grows deeper at his question.

“I was at the office in the morning and went back home in the evening. I didn’t go anywhere except for grocery stores to buy a few stuffs for our home.”

Jake scoffs at your last two words. Our home.

“Our home, where you were fucking someone else in our bed?”

Your jaws dropped at his words. This is unfair. Did he really think that low of you? That you would simply having fun with other guys when he’s not around? This is ridiculous.

One thing you can’t stand is when people falsely blaming you on something that you didn’t do. Slowly, you can feel yourself getting fired up.

"You, out of people, accused me of cheating on you?"

Jake lifts his head up to look at you. His eyes are red from all the crying that he did before you stepped into the office.

"Well, explain these then?"

Jake threw the pictures in his hands on the table. You bend down to get a better view of it. In those pictures, it was you and a man, tangled to one another in various positions.

Your eyes widened at the images in front of you. You knew it wasn't you. Although it was your face in there, but you didn't do all of that. You would never betray the trust of the man in front of you. You didn’t even think of betraying him in the first place.

But how, how can the woman in the picture looks a lot like you, when you know you have never slept with any man other than him.

"I don't know about this Jake, but I swear I have never done all of these. Please, believe me."

Your eyes are glistening with tears as you look at him, begging for him to trust you.

But you know it was no use. The way he looks at you is no longer like how he used to. It was filled with love and affection ever since the day both of you said, 'I do'.

Now, it was as if whatever he felt for you has vanished. The only emotion that he could feel is numbness and emptiness. He thought that you would be different than others. Turns out you're just the same.

You're just another woman, staying by his side just for the benefits.

Without saying anything, Jake grabs his blazer and walks out of the office, leaving you standing in the room, crying your heart out.

This isn't what you imagined how it's going to be. You thought everything would be fine the moment Jake kissed you that day. That you would finally experience your first and true love.

You didn't expect for all of these to happen. Your mind suddenly drifts off to the night of the gala. Were you and Jake not supposed to have your happy ending? If only one of you end this marriage like how it should, would any of this still happened?

Right, this all happened because of you. You selfishly want to be in this marriage despite knowing that it has to come to an end. You have no one to blame but yourself.

You thought that you finally had him for yourself. The man that you have always been attracted to. The man that never fails to make your heart feels full. You were stupid enough to believe that.

As you are left alone in the office, you thought to yourself, ‘I should’ve let my fairytale remain as a fairytale'.

—

“Huh, it’s surprising to see that you are not drunk. Guess you really changed.”

Jay’s disclaimer receives a glare from Jake. His expression clearly shows that he is not in the mood for jokes or anything stupid.

“And what do you mean by that?”

“When you broke up last time, you almost got into a fight with me,” Sunghoon answered on behalf of Jay.

Jake turns to Sunghoon before letting out a scoff.

“In my defence, you started it.”

Sunghoon raise one of his brows. He decides to ignore the remarks to avoid any arguments... again. He raises his glass to his lips and drink from it.

“So, what is it this time?”

Jake sigh at Jay’s question. He contemplates whether to tell his friends the truth or not. His friends on the other hand, knows him too well.

Despite getting hurt or betrayed, Jake had always been selective in giving out details about his personal life. For him, it’s supposed to be kept in minimal. Whatever happened inside the house, stays inside the house.

As much as his friends respect him for that, sometimes they wish that Jake could open up just a bit, so that they can help him in any way they feel necessary.

“Let’s just say that our marriage is getting too... crowded.”

Jay and Sunghoon look at each other. It wasn’t that direct, but it’s not indirect either. Everyone has their own interpretation. In this case, Jake seems to imply that there is a third party involved in their relationship.

However, Jay and Sunghoon found it hard to believe because you don’t look like someone who would go out there and cheat on a man that truly love you for who you are. But then, they might be wrong as well.

“Are you sure y/n would do that to you?”

Jake shrugs his shoulders at Jake’s question. He lifts his glass to his lips and gulp down the remaining liquid.

“As much as I would like to deny it, I’m not sure if I can do that with the evidence that I have.”

Sunghoon nods his head in understanding manner. He then pats Jake’s shoulder and flash him a small smile.

“You do what you got to do man. We’ll be here for you, always.”

Jake replies Sunghoon with a smile. He’s truly blessed for having such understanding best friends. He might not be lucky in love, but he knows he won lottery with friendship. So, it’s okay.

He’s going to be okay.

I'm going to be okay.

When Jake enters the dark room, suddenly everything feels empty. It feels like his life is crumbling down again. The thought that he kept repeating like a mantra before vanished just like that.

He knows he can’t possibly go back home. Not with his current state. He needs to get away from all of these. He wants to forget about everything.

Unconsciously, he walks towards his office desk. The pictures were still scattered like how he left them earlier. The pictures are enough to ignite his anger. He has never felt so deeply disappointed in someone before.

He thought that he knows you enough to not be suspicious of you. But he never knew that you’re just another wolf in sheep’s skin.

Jake picks up one of the pictures. If only he could get hold onto the man in the picture, he knew he would beat him up until no one could recognize him ever again.

Maybe he should’ve ended their relationship according to the original plan. Jake sighs to himself. He has no one to blame but himself. He trusts you too easily. In the end, he is the one who got fooled.

He examines the picture one last time for the night as he’s thinking of a solution to all of this.

When he finally found an answer, the corner of his lips curls up into a smirk. Bingo.

—

Hundreds of calls, thousands of messages, and you still haven’t heard anything from Jake.

You know that he needs some time to calm down. Yet you can’t help but to feel worried for him. The least you want to know is where would he spend the night and if he’s eaten anything.

But there is nothing you can do. You must let him be for the night. To be fair, no one would be okay if out of nowhere there’s a picture of your partner being intimate with another person – let alone tons of pictures of it.

Your tears had dried down from all the crying that you did earlier. As soon as Jake stormed out of the office, you made the decision to empty out his schedule for the day, claiming that he was on sick leave.

As for you, you requested to take a week leave and informed Mr. Sim – your father-in-law – about it. You didn’t say for what but by the look on your face, he could guess there is something going on between you and Jake.

“Things are bound to happen. Take a break. I promise you it will be fine. Sooner or later, it will get better.”

You smile at his words. You are not sure if you and Jake will ever be fine after the incident but at least your father-in-law's words managed to bring up your spirit.

As much as you are still upset about everything, you want to get everything right. You will make it right again.

You are sitting on the couch in the living room with a picture in your hand. You managed to steal one of it from the pile in Jake’s office earlier.

Biting your lower lips, you lift the picture to your face so you can see it more clearly. That’s when you notice something different about the picture.

Without second thought, you grab your phone and dial a number. After a few rings, the receiver picks up the phone.

“Hey, can we meet up tomorrow?”

—

“So, what do you think?”

Sunoo hums to himself and look at you. He hands the picture that you gave earlier.

“You’re right. It’s edited. Most probably AI.”

You tilt your head in confusion.

“AI?”

“Artificial Intelligence. It was programmed to help human in various ways – workforce, study, music – you name it.”

You nod your head before a frown form on your face.

“But what does that have to do with my case?”

Sunoo smirks to himself. He pulls out his phone and type something on his phone before showing you a picture. You take his phone and identify it. You don’t know why but the picture looks very familiar to you. It was as if you have been there.

That’s when it clicks in your head. You look at the person’s face closer and you see that the person resembles Sunoo but he’s wearing the outfit that you used to wear back in college.

“Isn’t this my picture? Why does this look like you?”

Sunoo smiles at your reaction.

“That’s also an AI. I just chose a picture of my face and replaced it with yours. It didn’t copy my face 100% but the resemblance is there.”

His smile fades away as he leans forward to you.

“The same thing with your case. Whoever edited it must have your picture as well. Yes, AI can be helpful to us. But some people use it for other purposes – framing, blackmailing, humiliation. At the end of the day, it depends on the person’s intention.”

You think to yourself, trying to figure out the possible suspect. As far as you know, none of the people in your circle is suspicious considering. There’s only Sunoo, few of your college friends, and-

Your eyes widen at the realization. You look up at Sunoo.

“It couldn’t be…”

—

“Jake!”

Jake turns his head towards the owner of the voice. There, stand his ex-girlfriend, looking like how she normally would.

“It’s been a long time since we last talk to each other, right,” she said before inviting herself to sit across him.

Jake didn’t do anything except following her movements with his eyes.

“So, what’s the sudden occasion? I thought you blocked me already.”

He let out a soft chuckle at Yunjin’s remarks before shaking his head and flashing her a small smile.

“Nothing. Just thought that it would be nice to meet you again.”

Yunjin bites her lower lips, holding back herself from smiling too widely at the possibility of Jake missing her like how she missed him.

“Don’t say it like that. If your wife heard you, she would think that we had something going on.”

Jake’s face fell at the mention of his wife, and Yunjin didn’t miss that. Her expression changed to worry when she saw Jake frowns his brows.

“Hey, did anything happen?”

Jake swallows his saliva, a bit too loud for her liking. He then shakes his head, trying to not make Yunjin ask further questions about it.

She sighs softly at Jake. He’s always so nice. Yunjin was used to this side of Jake. Just like his friends, she too knows that Jake isn’t someone who would simply talk about his life to anyone.

But looking at his state now, Yunjin wishes nothing but for Jake to at least share a bit of the burden with her. She wishes that she can take care of him, like how she used to back then.

Yunjin reaches her hand to Jake’s on the table, making the guy lifts his face to look at her. She flashes him a soft smile as she caresses his hand.

“Don’t worry. I’m here for you, Jake. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

Jake looks down at her hand. Without thinking, he holds her hand and bring it close to his face.

Yunjin was stunned at the sudden gesture. She could feel his breath against her skin. Oh, how she missed it. She missed Jake so much. She missed being loved by him. She missed loving him as well. If only he knows that she would do anything to have him back.

“I thought you don’t like tattoo.”

Jake’s remarks pull Yunjin out from her daydream. Her eyes then fall onto her inner forefinger where she planted her tattoo. Her lips curl into a soft smile.

“I got it after we broke up. I was devastated so I did it.”

Jake nods his head and flashes her a smile before his eyes fall back onto the tattoo.

Both of them stay in silent, with Jake still gazing at her tattoo. She thought that it was cute how Jake never seems to take his eyes from it. Not to mention her pride when he notices the small details about her – just like when they used to be together before.

Before Yunjin could stop herself, she confessed to Jake.

“I miss you, Jake. I always have.”

—

It was raining heavily outside. Today, marks the third day of Jake not coming back home. You’ve tried to reach him, but it seems like he has blocked you.

You asked Jay and Sunghoon about Jake, yet the only thing that they could say was to give him space and time. Speaking of loyal friends, huh.

You miss Jake a lot. You miss Jake so much to the point that you still cooked for him, even though the chance of him coming back home to you is thin. Aside from meeting Sunoo, you didn’t go anywhere else.

You only wait for Jake, day and night, without fail. You didn’t bother to sleep in the bedroom anymore. You just stay in the living room, wanting to greet him whenever he chooses to come back home.

Turns out, your effort does not go in vain.

As the clock strikes 12 midnight, Jake opens the door and enter the house. He takes off his shoes and put it in the cupboard.

“Welcome home, Jake.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he chooses to ignore you and walk up the stairs. You stand up from the couch and call his name, stopping him on his track.

“Where were you?”

He stays silence.

“Have you eaten?”

Again, nothing.

“Did you meet Yunjin-“

“It’s none of your business.”

You look at Jake, whose back is facing you before letting out a scoff. Of course, he will only talk to you if you mention her name. The name that he can’t seem to let go. The name that used to be his sweetheart for four years.

Betrayal and hurt dominates your heart. The softness in you is now gone. You did not just wait in the house, waiting for him to come just to find out that he’s out there with his ex-girlfriend.

“I knew it. You can’t forget about her, right? After all these years, she’s still the one in your mind.”

Your eyes slowly tear up.

“I’m just the replacement. A woman you used to climb up to your title.”

That’s not it.

“A woman that you can use as your trophy.”

That’s not true.

“A woman that you will throw away once you’re done using her to fulfil your needs-”

“Enough!”

You gasp at the sudden scream from Jake. The head that were facing the opposite side is now looking straight at you. His hands form into fist, with his thumbs hiding against his palms. His lips tremble from the anger that build up in him.

It was wrong. It was all wrong. Whatever you said about yourself, it was wrong. Jake has never seen you as trophy. He never wants to take advantage of your kindness. He loved you with all his heart and soul.

The worst part is, he still does.

“Jake…”

Jake’s face softens at the sound of your voice calling his name for the second time tonight. He missed it. He missed you. A lot. He wants to be with you again like how it used to be. He wants to get pampered by you. He wants to give you all the loves and affections that you deserve.

But he can’t because he promised himself he will end it tomorrow.

“Do you still love her?”

His breath hitched at your question. His eyes move to look at you, just to see that your eyes are red from all the crying that you did for the past few days. The thought of you crying for him while he wasn’t around makes him sick.

He can’t help but blame himself for putting you in such situation. You didn’t deserve all of these. You deserve to be with a man that can make you happy and showers you with all the things the world could offer.

Not with a guy like him who will only make you sad and cry all the time. You shouldn’t be here. He didn’t deserve you at all.

Without any words, Jake turns his head back to the stairs. He continues to walk up the stairs and into the bedroom, leaving you standing in the living room with tears falling down your cheeks.

As soon as you hear the door closes, you fall on your knees to the floor. You’re tired. You’ve reached your limit. You don’t think you can keep up with this any longer.

Jake doesn’t care about you anymore. You’ve been worried sick about him. He didn’t come back home. He didn’t go to office either. Sunghoon and Jay also said that they didn’t know where he is.

But he doesn’t care. After all these times, the only thing that he spoke to you was in the form of anger.

You feel pity for yourself. You’re worthless. You can feel your body slowly fall on the ground, and you just let it happen.

Right at that moment, your eyes fall upon the ring at your hand. The sparkles are still there, as if it’s still new.

Will it still look the same if it was on her hand, or will it look better?

As your eyes close for the night, you thought to yourself, I will end it tomorrow.

It will end tomorrow.

—

“Did I make you wait too long?”

Yunjin was drinking from her cup before you appear in front of her. She put down her drink and shakes her head with a smile on her face.

“No, I don’t mind. I understand you must have business to attend to.”

Despite looking all innocent, you can sense the sarcasm behind her voice. Your eyebrows lift slightly in amusement.

Huh, so this is the real Yunjin.

You sit across Yunjin as she picks up her cup and drink from it again.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

You pursue your lips at her. You think to yourself to decide the method that you want to go for.

After a few seconds, your hands move to unzip your bag to take out a picture of ‘you’ and the unknown man. Without hesitation, you place the picture on the table and slide it to her.

“I will cut to the chaste. That woman… it’s you. Am I right?”

Yunjin takes the picture in her hand before letting out a historical laugh, enough to get everyone’s attention.

Humiliation. That is how Yunjin wants to play.

“Are you blind? It’s your face in the picture. Not mine.”

You can hear people starts murmuring about the scene that is about to unfold in front of them. But you pay them no attention. You are determined to end everything today. Right here, right now.

“The face does belong to me. But not the body.”

Yunjin’s eyes twitch at your counter. You tilt your head to the side, studying her reaction.

“Look at it properly. That tattoo on the inner side of the finger; it matches yours, right?”

Her face fell when you mention about it. Yunjin bring the picture closer to her and scan the picture. That’s when she saw the tattoo.

How could she forget to remove it before printing it? How could she be so careless? The fact that you even know the tattoo belongs to her… How can it be possible? You’ve only met her twice. That’s not enough for anyone to actually notice something as small as this.

“I’ve always been good in observing people. It doesn’t take me long to notice your tattoo considering that it’s on the same hand that you shook mine with back at the gala night.”

Yunjin feels like a huge rock has hit her head. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

The whispers around you increase more and more as time passed by.

I can’t believe someone as beautiful as her can be so ugly deep inside.

So pathetic. Slept with a guy and blame others for it.

She’s nothing but a whore.

Yunjin’s lips tremble at the words thrown to her. This is not how she planned it to be. She wants to humiliate you, but it went to her instead. It doesn’t make sense. If only you didn’t marry Jake, none of this would happen and she would still be with him by his side.

She is supposed to hold the title of Mrs. Sim. She is much more worthy as his wife. But it all went down because of you.

However, she didn’t plan to give up. At least not today.

Yunjin gathers her composure before leaning her back against her chair.

“You could’ve purposely placed the tattoo in the picture. Isn’t it easier that way?”

With only those sentence, the people’s opinion suddenly changed.

Why can’t she leave the woman alone?

She must be hungry for attention. That’s why she purposely blames the other woman.

A woman who betrays its own kind should not be labelled as a woman at all.

The corner of Yunjin’s lips curl up into a smirk. People are easily manipulated. All you need to do is to say a few things and they will instantly believe you whether it’s real or fake.

She has won. The victory is hers.

Unfortunately for her, the success doesn’t last long. You knew she would say that which is why you’ve been keeping another strong evidence to prove that it’s not you in the picture.

As you reach inside your bag, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You look up at the owner of the hand. Your eyes widened at the sight of Jake.

You didn’t expect him to be here - so does Yunjin. He is not supposed to know you’re here. What is he even doing here? Did he make another appointment with Yunjin?

“You want another proof that it’s not her? Here, I bring the real guy from the picture.”

Jake said to Yunjin before moving to the side slightly, revealing a man named K standing behind him. Her eyes instantly widened at the sight of him. The exact same guy that she paid to frame you. The exact same guy that she slept with, just for the sake of destroying your marriage with Jake.

Yunjin shakes his head to herself.

“No. I don't know this guy. I didn’t do anything.”

“You slept with me, and you said you didn’t do it? Did you forgot that I also have the original picture?”

Yunjin’s eyes move to K, and she stood up from the chair.

“I paid you to keep quiet!”

K scoffs at her.

“No. You paid me to sleep with you. That’s it.”

Yunjin bites her lips before letting out a frustrated groan. She turns to Jake and tries to grab his hands, but Jake avoided her advanced towards him.

“Jake, I have a reason. I did all of this for you. I love you, Jake. I love you so much.”

You don’t like the view in front of you. As a woman, you feel pitiful towards Yunjin. One would never think a beauty such as herself would go low just for the sake of love. Refusing to witness how pathetic Yunjin is, you hug yourself and look to your side.

Jake on the other hand can read your body language. He knows you want to run away from the commotion. As your husband, he wants nothing more than fulfilling your wish and needs. So, he must end it now.

“Do you know why I broke up with you, Yunjin?”

Jake’s question makes Yunjin frown in confusion. Jake clears his throat, and his lips form a straight line.

“That day, I just got back from studying. When I walked into our room, I saw you sleeping soundly, with another guy next to you. I don’t need to know that you both are naked under the blanket considering that clothes were scattered on the floor. You claimed that you love me, but you still had the guts to cheat on me. That’s why I broke up with you...”

Jake turns to look at you for a few seconds before facing Yunjin once again.

“... That’s why I will never ever be with you.”

At that, Jake pulls you up and circles his arm around your waist, before bringing you out of the place, leaving Yunjin faced the humiliation that she created.

—

As soon as you enter the house, Jake closes the door behind you and bring you to sit down in the living room. He then excuses himself to the kitchen to get two glasses of water. He brings the waters to the living room and put it on the table before sitting down next to you.

Both of you stay in silence for a while. You puff your cheeks before grabbing the glass and drink the water.

“How did you know I was there?”

Jake clears his throat. Now, it’s his turn to drink the water before answering your question.

“I... followed you?”

You turn to face Jake, blinking your eyes at his words.

“Really? You followed me? Since when?”

Jake rubs the back of his neck and flashes you a sheepish smile.

“Well, that day when I stormed off from office, I came back later that night. When I wanted to throw away the pictures, I felt something was off. That’s when I realized that the face does resembles you, but not totally you. Not to mention the hint of tattoo on the finger...”

His hands move to hold your hand gently. He brings up your hand to his face before smiling to himself.

“...I’ve kissed this same hand countless times to know that you’ve never had tattoo, my love.”

All emotions come at you at the same time when he called you, my love. Tears brimming at your eyes as you suddenly recalled those nights without Jake in your arms. The way he raised his voice for the first time at you are still fresh in your mind, considering it just happened yesterday.

“You hurt me, Jake. You hurt me so much.”

Jake looks at your teary eyes before leaning his forehead against yours, making you burst into tears as soon as it touches. He had always known that you are a soft person, and you prove him right.

He knows that he has hurt you so bad. Although it was only a few days, the pain in your heart will still need time to heal. He won’t blame you for hating him or anything. He deserves it.

“I know baby, I know. I left you alone, crying to yourself for days. I am a bad husband, and I am sorry for the way I behave. I should’ve believed you because you are my wife. My wife will never cheat on me, and I should know better.”

You just nod your head, agreeing to his words as tears still flowing down your cheeks.

Jake’s hands move up to caress your arms to your shoulder and up to your face. His thumbs wipe away your tears, even though a lot are still threatening to fall.

“Please, forgive me. You can take as much time as you need, but please, don’t leave me, y/n. I want no one but you to be my wife. You are the only one for me. No one can change that.”

You open your eyes to look at Jake, just to find out that he is quietly sobbing. You can’t believe that there will be a day where Jake would cry in front of you. It just shows that he truly cares for you and whatever he said earlier is nothing but the truth.

Although a part of you is still upset with him, you can’t deny that your heart yearns to love and be loved by him. Just like him, you can’t imagine any other man as your lover, let alone your husband. You want him, and only him.

Your hand reaches up to cup his face, his eyes are now looking into yours. You could feel his breath against your skin, and that’s enough to tell you that he’s in front of you.

Without wasting time, you lean to Jake, pressing your lips against his, in which he responds with open heart. Both of you could taste each other’s tears, but you don’t care.

You and Jake have been spending time away from each other for too long ever since you got married to him. All the pent-up emotion and frustration can be felt with the way you and Jake can’t seem to let go of one another.

Suddenly, everything feels right all over again. The pieces that were scattered are now together once again. Your life had always been normal. But somehow, being together with Jake makes your life more colourful than it already is.

Deep in the heart, you and Jake promise to not leave one another anymore for both of you can’t live without each other. Jake needs you as much as you need Jake. No one in the world can ever change that.

As you are lost in Jake’s arms, you thank the universe for shaping you into Jake’s one and only, Mrs. Sim, forever.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #jake #jake imagines #jake romance #jake scenarios #enhypen romance #enhypen jake sim #sim jake #jake sim

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lovieku · 4 months ago

Text

ORDINARY THINGS ⋆ 정국

after a lost match, jeongguk’s only source of comfort is you.

୨ৎ from the grande series

pairings: soccer captain!jk x fem!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: lower case intended, i wanna say that i know very little about soccer, even more about what goes on behind the scenes, but of course i had to put jeongguk in bellingham’s iconic holey socks hehe 😻, it’s a bit angsty at first just bc ggukkie is an angsty boy, but then all of it is just fluff really! hints at mental illness, heavy use of the pet name baby, they’re so funny i love them, theyre also horny! only mentions of sex tho, and sexy kisses and touches keke

word count: 6990

a/n: waaa omg i managed to keep this under 10k words who’s proud of me! this is so slow but im in love w their domestic dynamic 🙁

────୨ৎ────

the piercing whistle cuts through the air.

it marks the official end of the match, sealing the loss of your boyfriend’s team. the sound feels sharp, final, not only to the game.

you knew this was fairly important. it wasn’t too decisive on the team’s position in the ranking, but you knew it mattered to him. like every other game, regardless of stakes.

whether it was a friendly or a tournament, jeongguk had no other mode but all in.

that dedication shows in every tense line of his body now. the weight of defeat begins to sink in, and you can see it on his face, the way it affects him.

you can already sense what’s swirling around in his mind, behind the quiet exterior. you’re sure of it from how he still stands there, avoids his surroundings, keeps his eyes glued to the ground, the green field suddenly more captivating.

you don’t need words to know. he’s retreating inward, locking away his disappointment, and likely taking on more than just the burden of his own loss.

he’s probably thinking of his teammates, feeling like he let them down too. allowing it all to crash on him, the single outcome of this match unraveling everything he worked hard for.

his confidence shatters with the referee’s whistle, and it shuts down the noise of the crowd, makes him unresponsive to the comforting pats on his back from his friends. it’s all a distant hum to him now.

jeongguk is deliberately slow as he almost mechanically leads his exhausted self out the pitch, body moving without his mind’s consent.

he doesn’t care if it’ll take him forever to take these steps. if he’s the last one leaving. he just needs a moment to figure out his next move.

but can he? can he face his team without this ugly feeling gnawing at him? can he keep lying, tell them they did well, that they’ll do better next time, while his own mask suffocates him? is he even deserving of the captain title?

he doubts it, his legs moving as if the world has time to offer him, body struggling under the weight of a lifeless feeling creeping in.

your heart clenches painfully. from the sidelines, watching him like this breaks something in you.

you grip the hem of your tennis skirt, fingers twitching as you fight the crazed urge rising in your throat to just run to him.

it’s hard to find your breaths when witnessing your boyfriend destroying himself as if that’s the only treatment he thinks he’s deserving of. but you also know the last thing you want to do right now is to draw more attention to him when he’s so raw, vulnerable. when every eye in the stadium strips him bare.

and you just want to put his every piece back, cover him in warmth. your mind is made up when you abruptly stand up, hastily making your way toward the locker room before he can get there, offering polite smiles to the players who are already getting inside.

you settle outside the door, waiting.

jeongguk drags behind the others, eyes still casted down. he’s so absorbed in his escape, so lost in the act of avoidance, that you’re certain he won’t notice you, with your beating heart held out to him in your cold hands.

yet, he does find some sort of answer in the ground he keeps staring at, asking for solutions.

amidst the worn, muddied football boots, he spots your shoes. dr. martens platforms, the ones you pair with white socks that ruffle at the top.

the sight is enough to pull him out of his daze, and he looks up.

the door to the locker room closes behind the last player, the heavy thump echoing in the long hallway. it startles you, just as jeongguk’s sudden awareness startles him, and you search for some sort of stability in each other’s eyes.

his own are glossy with unshed tears, and they glisten under the harsh fluorescent light. it doesn’t help the way his vision gets blurrier and pulls you farther from him.

but he needs to see you— the comfort in your face, the one that he feels as though he can’t breathe without.

jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut, the tears slipping free, but the moment he flutters his eyelids open and meets you clearly, he doesn’t care.

his wide, tear-filled gaze takes you in. brows drawn up, your expression seems to mirror his. you’ve always absorbed people’s emotions to an almost extreme degree. when others cry, so do you. and when jeongguk cries, it feels like the whole world is falling apart.

but you can’t afford that happening, and you’ll hold its full weight on your shoulders to prevent such thing.

this time, you need to be stronger for him. swallowing the lump rising in your throat, you blink back your own tears and take a hesitant step toward him.

jeongguk, so much taller than you, seems to shrink before your eyes. right now, he’s the smallest, most fragile boy.

��baby,” your voice is a soft whisper, arms stretching open in a subtle invitation, one that he doesn’t need to be asked twice.

the moment you speak and break the quiet, the dam he’s been holding up crumbles. he crashes into you, hands wrapping tightly around your waist, his nose buried in the crook of your neck.

the impact makes you stumble slightly, but you hold him just as tight in return, focusing on his sharp breaths against your skin, wet with his tears, body trembling in your embrace.

your arms wrapped around his neck, you squeeze him hard, as if he’s a sponge that you’re trying to empty from all the dirty liquid. all the exhaustion, the anxiety, the guilt.

with the way he downright drops his full weight on you, you guide him to sit on the bench just outside the locker room. he slumps beside you, heavy and limp against you, seeking your warmth and comfort the way an addict seeks for the drug that’s able to keep them going.

you sit like that for a while, and you think it’s better this way. he has time to let it out against your chest, and you have the time that you need to compose yourself before you’re met with the full extent of his brokenness.

the second you see his tear stricken face, you think all of the effort was useless. you’re so, so weak.

jeongguk hiccups, lifts his face, his wide eyes flitting between yours like one would follow a tennis match at his peak point, searching for something, the smallest indicator of victory.

the tears make his cheeks red, and it adds to the frantic pleading he trips on, “b—baby, please. i don’t— i’m tired. wanna— home—“

“hey, gguk. ggukie, breathe,” you’re gentle when you cut him off, taking his face between your small palms to try and steady his panic, and mostly yourself. you’re fighting hard to not break too, to try and be the anchor he needs.

you take exaggerated deep breaths, hoping he’ll mirror you, and after a few moments his chest rises and falls in sync with yours, warm breath fanning over your lips.

imperceptibly, you feel his panic begin to ebb. his brows relax and his eyelids blink slower, regaining consciousness of his surroundings.

his hands reach up, covering yours as they rest at his jaw, squeezing them, and he exhales shakily, still not fully over his agitation, “i’m sorry. i wanna go home. i don’t— don’t wanna do interviews, don’t wanna see anyone. don’t wanna talk to coach. i just wanna be with you, please.”

his speech is hushed, pleading, his words slurred as if afraid you’re going to stop him, force him to go through the motions of what’s expected of him before he can beg further.

you brush his cheek with your thumb in a slow motion, moving him closer to you, your voice as careful as possible, “but, jeongguk… we can’t disappear without at least telling the others. coach will want you to answer—“

“please, love. please,” he cuts you, words trembling, “don’t make me go through this. i’m too weak now. i can’t.”

you’ve never seen jeongguk like this before.

it’s been over two years since he asked you to be his girlfriend. that night, he scored a goal for you. you knew it the moment the ball hit the net.

even with his teammates swarming him in celebration, his eyes searched for yours, locking on the moment he found you in the stands.

wrapped in your wool scarf, your face almost fully hidden, the way your eyes turned into crescents and your cheekbones so prominent was unmistakable.

the smile that you shared was sheepish, but brimming with meaning. carrying all those emotions you had both been tiptoeing around for so long.

for a while, your feelings had been caught in a slow dance, never fully picking up, but nonetheless comfortable with the motion.

jeongguk always found a reason to have you near, inviting you to practices and matches, because only your presence could give him the strength needed. and you always found a reason to show up.

even more when you easily fell into the routine that followed every encounter, evenings spent at your apartment, on your couch.

it was a schedule you soon came to love, with him making you laugh, an arm draped over your shoulder, your leg casually resting across his lap. the movies you would put on would quickly become background noise as his playful jokes turned into shared glances, quiet giggles, and stolen kisses.

kisses that felt like the ones teenagers share when they’re crushing on someone for the very first time.

kisses that didn’t evolve into anything more until that night, when he scored for you. it was unashamedly sweet, the feeling he gave you.

back at his flat, his face lit up with a grin so big it was infectious. the rush of adrenaline from winning the game and the joy of finally making you his girlfriend radiated from him.

it’s a stark contrast to his expression, now. it’s drawn with helplessness, clouded with a desperation that makes you ache.

he looks tired of fighting, of holding it all together. and it’s not just that— there’s a deep yearning, a frantic search, a needy plea to be understood, to be seen by you.

there’s nothing that truly comes more innately to you. it’s second nature, caring for him. knowing him. looking after him. tending to his physical and emotional scars. and you don’t want him to scrape his skin further.

you try to reason, “what— what about your things, don’t you at least want to—“

“i’ll ask taehyung to take my bag with him or something,” for the state he’s currently in, he still looks willing to do anything if it means getting out of here. and so, he begs again, “please. can we go home?”

you know you can’t say no to him. that’s not something that comes as good to you. not in your nature.

“this is not the way to your house.”

still in his soccer jersey, the uniform’s shorts touching his knees and holey socks high up his calves, muddy boots hurting his feet, jeongguk sits quietly next to you in the backseat of his car.

his chauffeur drives steadily, away from the hurt, and each mile puts more distance between jeongguk and the weight of the loss, the field, the pressure. he feels himself leave fragments of disappointment behind, back there.

it’s been a long time since it was just the two of you in his car. jeongguk would be the one driving, his left hand steady on the wheel, the right one always reaching for yours, a quiet confirmation of his love.

now, someone else takes care of the driving, especially after games, or in moments like these when jeongguk’s mind and body are too exhausted to handle anything more.

ever since the goal that changed everything between you two, jeongguk’s life took off. a big team recognized his potential and signed him, a moment that marked his breakthrough as pro in the football world.

then, it became a whirlwind. constant games, media attention, opportunities flooding in, and money pouring from every direction.

he bought a house — a mansion, really, — just outside the city, the kind of place he dreamed of as a small kid with big ambitions. everything about it is luxurious, grand, all jeongguk thought he wanted.

but there’s been something left behind, back in the quieter days when he was just a young player fighting for his place on this planet.

you met him before the fame, before his name was on the backs of jerseys and his face on billboards. you fell in love with the boyish version of him, the one who lived in a cramped flat, working tirelessly to make a name for himself.

you’ve been there through every step, enough to recognize the struggle in his eyes.

you so easily catch that flicker of awareness in him. the jolting confirmation that all of this is real, his orbs trembling. and when it hits, he retreats into himself, lets anxiety creep in.

he may not voice it, but you know the root of it. the fear of losing himself, of becoming someone else, of forgetting the version of him that’s grounded in simplicity and love.

jeongguk fears intertwining himself with what he always wanted will inevitably erase what he’s always been, the son of hardworking parents in busan, raised on sacrifice and dreams.

what he always had with you. quiet, uncomplicated. happy with the ordinary things, eating ramen on the floor of his tiny apartment, driving around just to talk about anything and nothing, reading quietly next to each other in the cafè you’ve introduced him to, your presence a comfort to him long before he realized he loved you as more than a friend.

jeongguk wants to hold onto that simplicity, and he wants you to be part of that. he wants you to stay by his side, to be the reminder of who he is beneath all the noise. what he wants to keep being.

because you’re his constant, unwavering, never changing. you’ve never needed him to be more than who he already is. you never look at him with the kind of judgment or disappointment that seems to follow him after every missed opportunity. there’s no pressure, no expectations of success.

in your eyes, he is just jeongguk— the same boy that approached you with a bad pun only to clumsily blame it on his drink. the one you built a familiar rhythm with, ordinariness always just enough for you. for the two of you, together.

you don’t need mansions, fancy restaurants, designer clothes. you don’t need grandeur. you’ll stay the way it’s always been, and the way you both want it to stay.

he quickly scans your face, letting your words register. your brows are furrowed slightly, pouty lips parted as if you’re about to tell the driver that he’s going the wrong way, headed somewhere other than the house he now calls home.

before you can speak, jeongguk interrupts you, his voice soft and suddenly self aware, “oh, i— sorry, i gave directions to your apartment. i just really wanted to be there with you.”

you blink at his fragile honesty. he had begged to be home, and now here you were, on the way to your own.

warmth spreads through you, and you can’t help but break into a big smile, one that eases the tension in his forehead, and mirrors softly in the grin that tugs at his pierced lips.

leaning in, you place a peck on his cheek, “it’s okay, baby. i’ve got so many of your clothes in my closet, there won’t be a problem.”

his low chuckle is comforting, and he scrunches his nose in that familiar way, shuffling closer to nuzzle into your shoulder. for a moment, the world outside fades. you’re hopeful as you think you can feel the weight on his heart lifting.

looking up, a teasing smile spreads across his face, “i wonder why.”

his playful shift surprises you, though you try not to show it. you want him to feel normal, like there’s nothing you should keep being sad over. your brows raise ever so slightly before you roll your eyes in mock exasperation, the fond amusement clear on your features.

it’s enough for jeongguk’s giggles to fill the car, an arm snaking around your waist, “it’s because you always steal my clothes.”

feigning shock, you gasp dramatically, swatting him lightly. he only laughs more, soft sounds bubbling up again, and you can feel love rushing through you, swarming frantically in your chest.

you play along with him, “no, it’s because you always leave your stuff behind after we— we…”

you trip on your words and pause when you realize what nearly slipped out, sheepishly averting your gaze to glance at the chauffeur, who seemingly looks too focused on the road to hear what you’re saying.

jeongguk’s eyes light up, his smile widening as his fingers teasingly pinch your sides, “after we what? say it, baby.”

you flinch at his ticklish touch, breaking into a grin and stubbornly shaking your head no. his laughter mingles with yours, bodies pressing tighter as he leans his weight into you, his nose brushing your jaw.

being this close to him, you inhale his scent. he still smells like adrenaline, mixed with exhaustion, sweat pearling his back. the feeling grounds you.

he hums lowly against your skin, his lips trailing wet pecks along your throat, “i miss doing that.”

your chuckle turns into a frenzied groan, and you steady yourself with your hands on his arm still squeezing around you, feeling your face heat up, “that was three days ago.”

”too long,” he mumbles, kisses slowly becoming more languid, savoring you.

when he pulls away from your neck, he doesn’t give you a moment to breathe before his lips find yours. the kiss is simple, sweet, but you can feel each beat of his pulse against your mouth.

you break the contact first, your hand slipping into his damp hair, gently brushing the long strands out of his eyes. you think out loud, admiring his perfectly framed face, “you need to cut these.”

but jeongguk isn’t currently interested in haircuts. he ignores your suggestion, his focus entirely on you, and his whispered words hold a kind of raw vulnerability, “i missed you.”

you hum, threading through his locks, “missed you too, my boy.”

that’s all he needs to close the gap between you again. this time, his kiss is more intent, deeper, as if trying to communicate what words can’t. his hands pull you closer, your chest arching into him, and in between the wet sounds of your lips meeting he lets a moan escape him.

you’re quick to swallow it, your own quiet noises vibrating against him before you put distance once again, softly tugging at his hair and finding his eyes lovingly, “let’s get home first, yeah?”

but he protests, a childlike groan reverberating in his throat, eyelids fluttering shut as he basks in the feeling of you against his lips. he attacks your cheeks next, trailing down, and down, and down, kissing you through your shirt.

then, it’s his fingers touching you under it, hand traveling up and kneading your breasts through your bra, only to slide around to trace the curve of your spine.

the sudden contact is overwhelmingly pleasuring, head thrown back on the headrest as quiet whimpers leave you. jeongguk is as hungry as ever, seeking for proximity no matter your bodies already molding with one another, his teeth scraping against your most sensitive spots, almost digging, eating, tasting.

and you want to let go, allow him to give you every last thing he’s holding onto, be selfish and take it all for yourself.

but you can’t when you know this is just another one of his escapes. he’s using this moment to drown out the chaos in his mind, to run from his pain, to bury his burdens and get high on a dopamine rush.

“baby, wait—“ in between gasps, you manage to get your voice out, but its whisper doesn’t seem to reach jeongguk’s ears, his long digits boring holes in the flesh of your bare thighs, prickling with goosebumps at his feverish touch.

in your own daze, you carefully take a hold of his face in your palms, lifting him up from the devoting motion of his lips on the edge of your shoulder, and the look in his eyes is hazed, inhebriated on the the burning of your skin under him, but it’s tinged with desperation.

behind his orbs there’s no other thought but to chase you, his only refuge, and your sweet smile only aggravates his crazed desire, trying to catch your mouth with his before you open it to speak, “i don’t want us to do this while you— you’re still mentally fragile.”

your worry is laced with love, it’s clear from the way it spills out of you, seeps from your delicate touch on his cheeks. but jeongguk’s eyes still widen in shock and shame, orbs shaking with panic.

his brows furrow in an attempt to conceal his turbulent emotions, but the city lights continuously flashing through the car windows only accentuate the glistening under his eyelids. he stammers, “i— i’m not— i’m… please. don’t reject me.”

the plea is shaky, and it makes your pulse race with agitation, fingers grasping his jaw with more intent as you’re quicker on your words than your own thoughts, “oh, honey, i’m not. look at me, please,” the way he flickers his gaze down only makes more panic flood in your veins, and you frantically search for him.

you manage to sound stable, whispered words fanning over his lips, “i just want what’s best for you, okay? do you trust me?”

he seems to lean into your touch, looking up at you through his lashes, brows still betraying him with the way they’re drawn up in sorrow. he hums in agreement.

you smile reassuringly, “perfect. then, i’ll tell you what we’re gonna do, hm?” when he nods, you continue, brushing his hair back through your calm words, “we get to my flat. take a hot shower. i make us something warm to eat. and then, if you still want to, i’m all yours. in our bed. sound good?”

our bed. the flicker in your boyfriend’s face doesn’t go missed. it’s fond, it softens his eyes, and it rushes down to his lips, struggling not to break into a grin. he pouts to hide it, and you can see he’s still ashamed by his earlier rush, his response muffled, “okay. i love you. i’m sorry.”

you coo, pulling his head to rest on your chest, drawing comforting strokes along his damp back, “i love you more. you did nothing wrong, baby.”

the both of you stay like that for a while. his cheek is squished against your breasts, lips parting to release quiet huffs, and your soothing motions run down his arm.

the quiet moment is interrupted by jeongguk’s phone ringing once again, loud and persisent, for the nth time in less than half a hour. he doesn’t even glance at the device when declining the call, and you catch the name flashing before the screen goes black.

it’s his coach calling. you stay quiet as he shuts off his phone completely, tossing it onto the empty seat next to him.

only a few moments pass before he looks up at you, his expression hesitant, a timid smile trying to mask the uncertainty in his eyes. you return his gaze with quiet confidence, nodding subtly, letting him know that you’re here with him— no matter what.

right now, all that matters is that jeongguk feels safe in your arms. you don’t care about the consequences he might face tomorrow. you’ll be there for him, just as you are now, when he needs you the most.

the moment you both step in your apartment, shoes messily discarded at the entrance (you’ll make sure to take care of his boots later), he trails after you like a lost puppy. he becomes your shadow, mirroring your every step with big eyes and a natural pout.

“take your uniform off, baby,” you gently instruct him while letting the water run from the shower head, adjusting the temperature until it’s hot enough for the both of you.

he slumps over on the toilet lid, eyes never leaving you as you move around the bathroom. when he lets them travel down your figure, a low groan escapes him.

you look so good in your skirt, the high socks triggering a weird, primal instinct in him, stirring dark fantasies that have him wishing you’d let him take you right there on the sink.

but he knows better than to mess with the plan you set earlier in his car for the both of you to enjoy the night, so he only allows himself to play with you a little, “can you do it for me? i’m tired.”

he really does seem tired, the exhaustion visible from the way his hands tremble slightly and his eyelids drop, but the look only adds to the lazy smirk spreading on his pierced lips. he knows what he’s truly asking for.

you narrow your gaze at him only to roll your eyes when he doesn’t look like he’s going to surrender any soon, grin only widening, and you pull him up by the jersey.

he complies, brows wiggling in teasing disobedience, looking down at you from his taller stance, “woah, commanding. i like it.”

“shut up,” you only murmur as you hastily strip off his sweaty uniform, throwing it right in the laundry bin. you leave him in his high socks and boxers, smacking his round ass playfully, “take these off yourself, mister.”

he’s ready to protest, to demand your touch back on him, but you shoot him a look with your raised eyebrows, “ah-ah. c’mon, and get in the shower, i’ll bring your change.”

before he can respond, you leave the bathroom. he whines childishly, slipping off his underwear along with the uncomfortable socks, adding them to the pile in the basket under the sink. he yells over the sound of running water, “you’re coming too, right?”

“yes!” you quickly call out from the bedroom, voice raised to reach him over the distance.

you know how difficult your boyfriend can be— if he hasn’t come to drag you in yet, you’re at least hoping he’s taken off the rest of his clothes. you foolishly hope he’s already in the shower, though the chances are slim if he’s not completely sure you’ll be joining him.

that’s why you move fast, grabbing his change of clothes from the drawer where you keep all his left-behind things. in your rush, you take one of his oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers for yourself, too.

when you return to the bathroom, you’re not surprised to find jeongguk standing in the middle of it, bare and waiting for you. his eyes light up when he sees you, taking the clothes from your hold and placing them on the counter, “i was about to come and get you.”

you scoff lightly, trying to fight the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, but it’s no use. especially when he reaches out to pull you closer, fingers working at the zip of your skirt and sliding it off with ease, his own grin warm on his expression.

you gently push him toward the shower, pretending to scold him, “i can do this myself, thank you. now get in, silly.”

with a disappointed, and very adorable huff, he finally obeys, stepping under the hot steam of water. you can tell by the subtle way his shoulder relax that the heat soothes him, but the tension doesn’t completely ease from his muscles.

he tracks your movements attentively, taking in the way you strip yourself completely bare, and only when you step in the small cabin and close the sliding window door behind you he sighs in relief.

jeongguk engulfs you immediately, positioning you both directly under the cascade of water. it blurs your vision slightly, your bangs flattening on your forehead.

you push them out of the way, your hands then finding his own hair to slick it back, allowing you to see the fondness in his eyes clearly.

you look up at him through wet lashes, chin placed on his toned chest, and his own is dipped low to meet your gaze, take in the smile spreading and making your dimples show.

it grows bigger when he sheepishly scrunches his nose, the love seeping from your orbs suddenly overwhelming, and you press a gentle kiss to his adam’s apple before pulling yourself away, voice a whisper, “let me take care of you.”

jeongguk doesn’t argue, complying when you ask to hand you his shampoo. you’d originally bought it as a joke during one of your grocery runs together, picking it off the shelf with a laugh and pointing out the label— johnson’s baby shampoo, made with honey and wheat extracts, and on sale too. you’d exclaimed how it was so jeongguk, and he’d let you try it on him as soon as you got home.

the joke had stuck, and to your surprise, he ended up liking it more than you did. now, it was the only shampoo you used on him whenever he stayed at your place, a small tradition between the two of you.

as you work it into his damp hair, jeongguk’s eyelids flutter shut. he eases into your touch, body going loose as your fingers massage his scalp with the perfect amount of pressure, the kind that always seems to make him melt, the one that could immediately put him to sleep.

you wash it off and repeat the motion once more, taking your time. only when his hair is thoroughly cleaned do you reach for your vanilla body wash, moving on to carefully lather it over his skin.

tracing every line of his body, you watch the way he softens more with your touch, unconsciously swaying closer.

you’re slow, deliberate in your motions, letting your hands run over his shoulders, down his arms, across his chest. his skin is warm and slick under your palms, and every now and then he lets out a contented sigh.

the sounds get fuller when you finally reach his back. you press a little harder, working out the knots you can feel lingering there. he groans softly, his head falling forward slightly, droplets of water dripping from his hair onto your face.

“feel good?” you ask quietly, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

he nods, his voice low and drowsy. “yeah, feels amazing.”

his moans grow unrestrainedly louder, eyes rolling back, and you would tease him for it if the sight of him like this wasn’t having its own effect on you.

biting your lip, you press your fingers deeper into his muscles, and suddenly his hands grip your waist, tight enough to startle you.

it has your mouth opening unconsciously, brows furrowed at the sensitivity. you almost give in when his palms slip further down, resting on the curve of your ass, and for a moment you consider the temptation, but the triumphant smirk on his face immediately pulls you out of your daze. your own fingers work to move his hands to rest at your shoulders.

you manage to sound stable, but you can feel the slight shake in your voice, “hands up here, mister.”

“oh, c’mon,” he has the audacity to whine, the sound muffled by his pouty, and so inviting lips.

you almost cave at the sight of him, his eyes wide and pleading. but you know better. if you let him push the boundaries now, things won’t stop here, and the careful rhythm you’ve set will be forgotten.

it’s not just him you’re trying to hold back— it’s yourself too, especially when his gaze almost breaks through your resolve.

you shake your head, trying to gather your composure, suddenly turning off the water and sliding the shower door open.

jeongguk groans in protest at the contrasting cold air hitting his skin, but you promptly step out to reach for your bathrobe and wrap it around him.

pout stubborn on his lips, he follows you out the shower, but instead of arguing further, he surprises you by engulfing you both in the same robe, pressing his chest against your back.

his arms circle you, and he starts rubbing the spongy material of his sleeves against your body, trying to dry you both at once.

you snort, amused by his antics, “what are you doing?”

“i’m drying us.”

“this will take us forever—”

“no, see? i’m already done,” with ease, he slips out of the robe, laying it over your shoulders and tying the belt snugly around you.

then he casually walks over to grab his change of clothes, pulling the t-shirt over his head despite the fact that his hair is still dripping with water.

you roll your eyes at the sight of it soaking into the fabric and gently push him to sit on the toilet lid, “don’t move. you’re still wet, god.”

“that’s what she said,” he wiggles his brows, eyes gleaming with immature delight as he grins mischeviously.

you sigh, struggling not to laugh at his pun. instead, you wordlessly grab the hairdryer and start running it through his damp locks.

he obediently leans into you, closing his eyes and resting his head against your chest as your fingers run along his hair. the warmth from the device makes him nuzzle even closer, his posture fully relaxed between your legs.

once his hair is dry and his clothes no longer clinging to his skin, you finally shut off the hairdryer, giving his now fluffy locks a final pat.

the time it took to dry jeongguk allowed the bathrobe to work its magic on you too. you quickly slip into his boxers and one of his many stussy t-shirts you picked randomly, tying a towel around your hair.

you prepare to head out of the bathroom, but before you can his hand gently stops you, gripping your forearm, suddenly towering over you when he stands up, “where are you going?”

“to make us dinner.”

“i’ll do it. you should dry your hair, or else you’ll get a headache.”

“but—”

“no but. you already did enough, baby. i’m okay, i swear,” his voice softens, and the fond look in his eyes makes it clear he won’t let you argue further. he doesn’t even let you respond, stepping out of the room and heading to the kitchen.

a smile tugs at your lips, and you take a deep breath, the comforting scent of vanilla and honey still lingering after he leaves.

you’ve always appreciated jeongguk’s attention to detail. he knows how long it takes you to care for your thick, long hair and also remembers the countless nights you complained about your head hurting from leaving it damp. he always listens, even to the smallest things.

twenty minutes later, you’re warm and dry, stepping into the kitchen where the delicious smell of soup greets you. jeongguk is behind the stove, stirring a pot and softly whistling as he tends to another pan on the burner.

when he notices you, his eyes brighten, trailing over your legs and the way his t-shirt sits just above your thighs, revealing glimpses of his boxers. as you approach, he grins, “what’s a pretty woman like you doing here, alone?”

you’ve been with him long enough to know this is just the start of one of his playful roleplays, so of course you instantly know your line, “i have a boyfriend, actually.”

“oh, really? is he here too? can he fight?” his voice drops lower with every step you take towards him, with the last words coming out as a growl as you stand in front of him, looking up into his eyes.

you snort, “you’re so dumb.”

he stays in character, raising his eyebrows, “no, tell me. can he?”

you hum thoughtfully, pursuing your lips as you pretend to consider, your eyes wandering before settling on his again, “yes. he’ll break your nose.”

he chuckles, feigning surprise, “god, he sounds tough.”

“he is.”

with an arm snaking around your waist, he pulls you closer, his lips brushing your ear, nose tickling your lobe, and he whispers, “but i just want you so bad, young lady. don’t tell him, hm?”

his mouth is on yours next, molding together in a sickeningly sweet, lingering kiss, and you let him find your tongue with his own, your front arching against his.

with your arms wrapped around his neck, you part slightly, your eyes jumping on every corner of his face. your voice is thick with pure love, “do you feel better, big boy?”

jeongguk smiles, presses it against your forehead, “so much better, thanks to you. i love you.”

“i love you more,” you momentarily lose yourself in his expression, and you have to blink harshly to pull yourself out of the daze before you fall too deeply into your emotions and start waxing poetic, letting your heart run as wild as the love in your veins.

you move from his hold, busying yourself with setting the small table in your kitchen, grabbing the usual pink glass for yourself and the yellow one for him.

he chose them himself a long ago, said pink reminded him of the way you blushed at his every action, and the yellow symbolized a sunflower always turning toward its sun, because, “that’s how i’ve felt ever since i met you.”

as you arrange the glasses, you almost forget what you were about to ask, but the faint ring of your phone from the bedroom reminds you, “is your phone still off? coach has been calling me.”

his brows knit slightly, betraying his otherwise calm demeanor, but he doesn't meet your eyes, focusing instead on plating the soup. “can we— not talk about it? just for tonight?”

a small gasp escapes you at his quiet plea, and you rush to his side to help him, taking the plates from him and placing them gently on the table, your words hushed, “of course, baby. i was just worried you might want to hear from him. i don’t care about all of that, i only care about you.”

a sheepish smile breaks through his composure, his front teeth worrying at his lip piercing. he looks up at you, lets himself be coddled by the warmth of your gaze, and he sounds just as timid as he looks, “hm. that’s what i wanted to hear.”

you shake your head fondly at his vulnerable side, motioning for him to sit with you, “silly. come, let’s eat, and then we can get some sleep.”

even after swallowing the burning soup, jeongguk still finds a way to tease, nudging your foot under the table with a mischievous grin.

"you’re not getting any sleep tonight," he quips, his voice low with playful intent. you roll your eyes and kick him lightly, making him yelp in exaggerated shock.

it becomes a game of back and forth, his dirty jokes pushing boundaries just enough to make you question if he’s actually serious. there’s a part of you that selfishly hopes he means it, but the side of you that knows him inside and out knows better.

sex for jeongguk isn’t just a casual thing, especially after a night like this. for the two of you, intimacy is more than physical— it’s an act of devotion, a way to connect deeply when words can’t express everything.

it’s never about distraction or escape, but about grounding one another, the flicker of something real and tender at the core of it.

tucked under the covers, waiting for him after he convinced you he could handle the dishes himself — arguing that picking a movie was just as much work — you’re not surprised by what he says when he finally enters the room.

“baby… i think i’m happy with just cuddles for tonight. that okay with you?”

you break into a big grin, brimming with unspeakable feelings for the man standing at the foot of your bed, for which you spread your arms open, “of course, sweetheart. come here, you big child.”

he doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly burrowing himself against the warm sheets, intertwining his limbs with yours. he nestles his head on your chest, sighing contentedly as if he’s found the safest place, “i love you. have i said that already?”

“a million times. and i’m never sick of it.”

“say it back.”

you snort at the insistence in his tone, words muffled by the fabric of your shirt, and your fingers unconsciously play with his straight locks as you swing one of your legs around his waist, your voice a whisper above the shuffling, “i love you more.”

he tilts his head up, chin resting on the softness of your breasts, “no, you don’t.”

brushing his bangs away from his eyes, you smile fondly, “i do. believe me.”

he huffs in faux protest, narrowing his eyes. but he gives in as quickly as he tried to argue, his cheek settling back to rest just where your heart beats, its steady beat lulling him into calm along with your gentle strokes along his nape.

jeongguk doesn’t resist it, doesn’t fight your love. accepts it as the purest form of closure he can get for himself, “hm. okay. i love you.”

1K notes · View notes

writerpeach · 8 months ago

Text

Fantastic Breasts and Where to Find Them

aespa Karina x m!reader

10k words

---

Read on AO3

Masterlist

"What time is it?" Karina asks as she stumbles into the kitchen, a half awaken mess, dark locks all disheveled in a white top and tight shorts. "Jesus, my fucking head..."

"Nearly one."

"Shit," Karina hisses. "I had a test in the morning, didn't you hear my alarm go off?"

"You think I can hear anything over you snoring?" you ask, glancing up with a playful smile as Karina sits opposite you at the kitchen table, resting her face in her palms. "You barely made it inside before I had to lug your body onto the couch.”

"Hey, I don't snore," Karina scoffs, giving you a dirty look with bleary eyes as she runs fingers through her messy hair in a feeble attempt to look presentable.

"Oh, of course you don't. Which is why I could hear you all the way upstairs. Pretty sure the entire neighborhood could."

"Shut it," she snaps back with as much bite as she can muster, though can't keep that grimace on her features for long before a tired grin escapes. "The last thing I remember is Yizhuo holding my hair up while I—well, you don't need to know the rest."

“Sounds like you had a fun night.”

"Fantastic," Karina responds with all the sarcasm she can manage. Her gaze immediately turns towards the coffee maker—the only thing that matters during this hellish hungover state.

“Coffee should still be warm,” you say, not missing a beat. “But take this first, it'll help."

Karina eyes the two painkillers in your hand with a grateful look as she scoots forward and reaches to accept a glass of water, tossing her head back a bit before chugging it all a single gulp.

"You're a lifesaver. I'm so embarrassing, you shouldn't have to keep taking care of me. Thank you," she says with a quick smile, gently placing the empty glass down, then heading straight for the coffeepot.

"Don't worry about it. It's what I'm here for."

"You should have been there last night then, maybe could have kept me in check. I'll never drink that much ever again."

Karina cradles a freshly poured mug of hot coffee as she makes her way back to the table, taking a seat ever so carefully, trying not to fall over in the process. She rubs her temple in gentle circles, feeling like absolute hell as she tests the coffee with a sip of uncertainty.

"You've said that the last couple times," you tease, leaning back in your chair as you focus back on your laptop screen and the paper that you’ve been working on all day. "You know that's not really my thing. As much as I enjoy watching other people make an idiot out of themselves."

"At least I could have had someone to talk to. The only person I knew was Yizhuo, and she was so busy making out with anyone with a pulse that I didn't say more than three words to her."

"Yizhuo?" you ask.

"You've met her, haven't you? She's one of my best friends."

"Don't think I have."

"Right, well—she'll sleep with anyone that so much looks at her," Karina chuckles as she savors the delicious warmth of coffee down her throat. She takes another careful sip and her eyes close, wondering if the throbbing in her head will ever subside.

"She's learned from the best, I suppose."

"Hey!" she says, faux offense laced in her tone, placing down her mug. "Don't compare me to that slut. I've got standards at least."

"Really?"

“I'll have you know, I don't sleep with everyone,” Karina huffs, turning her face away to sip at her coffee some more, but you can't resist the urge to tease her even further in her current state. "Just a few lucky guys. Sometimes two at once. Or three. But nothing crazy, I'm not a slut."

"Wouldn't dare even think of using that word on you, Rina."

"See, not like Yizhuo at all, not desperate and willing to suck and ride anything in sight. Besides, it's been like over a month since I've last gotten laid,” she says, out of nowhere. You let out a dry laugh, unable to believe your ears. It's strange, seeing Karina's pale skin so flustered, because clearly even she can’t buy that.

“I’m serious!”

"The walls say otherwise, you know. You're a terrible liar, Rina." From first hand experience, you know how thin these walls are—being able to overhear her muffled cries of ecstasy, every vulgar utterance from Karina's room, each time she sneaks home a stranger who has the absolute honor of getting to pound her senselessly.

"W-what, I'm not!" Karina blurts out, face getting even redder, so frazzled with that thought. "That—you were probably just hearing all that porn you keep on your laptop. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about the weird, kinky shit you’re into.”

Pausing for a moment, she gives an impish grin, so pleased with herself for trying to turn things around. You could call her bluff, but even better, you’ll come up with one of your own, something equally preposterous and absurd.

"Me? I don't even watch porn," you say somehow with a straight face, and it's such a ridiculous statement you can hardly finish getting the words out. Karina puts her mug down and brings her arms over her chest, letting out a small sigh before glaring across the table.

"Is that so? Now who's the terrible liar?"

"Believe what you want. This laptop is for school work only. Nothing else."

"Didn't realize I was living with such a prude," Karina says, as a teasing grin slides along her features. "All those times I've brought home a guy to fuck my brains out—I guess I've been making you feel extra uncomfortable."

"No, not at all, Rina. I just focus on my studies instead of how loud I can hear you scream through the walls. Noise-cancelling headphones do wonders," you say, doing your best to keep a stoic expression on your face. But Karina isn't having any of your bullshit. Not when she's sitting across from you with a smug look and trying her damndest to get you to break this facade.

"Look," Karina sighs dramatically, turning her head to face you directly. "There’s no fooling me. You don't have to act like you don’t enjoy listening to me getting railed. And you'd be lying if you told me you've never been turned on from all that. Just admit you've touched yourself to the sounds of it, and we'll leave this alone."

"Can't say I've done that either."

"Stop—" Her brow arches in frustration, and she can't even hide the smile beginning to break along her lips. "I get it, you're a better liar than I thought. You don’t have to keep pretending."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You think you deserve an award for not laughing your ass off at this point, but it's an ongoing struggle to keep this going. The best part is that Karina is so insistent on it, completely unwilling to let this go until she gets you to admit that she's caught you.

"Oh, come on, you've jerked off at least once or twice while listening to me, don't play dumb. Like you said, the walls are thin. I can hear when you're getting off too, you know."

"You've got a wild imagination, Karina. I've done nothing of the sort. The only thing I care about is getting a good night's sleep and graduating with honors."

"Fuck that, no one can study constantly. If it wasn't for me getting railed on the regular, I wouldn't even survive. I'd probably drop out and become a bartender or something. Getting dicked down does wonders."

"Everyone has their own ways of dealing with stress. Sex obviously isn't mine."

"Stop, you're such a fucking liar," Karina almost yells, frustration bubbling up as her arms cross even tighter, unable to stop the laughter that slips out. "There's no way that you're studying, what, seven days a week, without getting yourself off? Everyone has horny thoughts, especially guys. I know there are hot girls in your classes, there's no way you aren't fantasizing about them."

"I’m not. Too busy learning about the wonders of—"

"Shut the fuck up," Karina snaps in the most exaggerated tone, leaning forward, trying her hardest to hide her smile and fight whatever antics you keep coming up with. The longer this goes on, the more she breaks out into giggles. It's rather amusing seeing her get worked up like this, the little scrunched face she pulls and the exasperation that oozes from every word, knowing you aren't telling the truth one bit.

"You're not that studious. I've lived with you long enough to know that you're not the nerdy type. I'm right, I know I've seen you come home late. Don't deny it!"

"There's a really nice coffee shop that's by campus open rather—" you begin to say, not exactly sure how you haven't broken down laughing by now.

"Don't you dare tell me you're studying at one in the morning instead of getting your head trapped between some pretty girl's thighs," she interrupts in an instant, gaze piercing right through you. And no longer can you keep a straight face for another second longer, looking away to stop from grinning. But that might be a mistake. As you happen to glance back, Karina gets up out of her seat, this devilish expression as she strides around the table towards you. "If you aren't gonna be honest—maybe I'll just have to get the truth out of you."

Before you can even react, Karina swipes up your laptop with lightning speed and slams the lid shut, not caring for anything else as she drops her weight in your lap. It takes you by surprise, and by now, she has to know how close you are to breaking, deciding to pull out all the stops to try to win her little game of bullshit. "Oh, so you've suddenly gone mute."

And Karina gets impossibly close, staring into your eyes, enough so you have no other option but to look directly in her deadly gaze. She wraps her arms around the back of your neck, resting her hands there, a smirk curling up her lips as she tries to break your resolve all at once.

The way she looks at you is unbelievably seductive, which might be the reason your heart beats faster, with how gorgeous she is up close. That confident little smirk refuses to leave her lips, the scent of her perfume strong in the air, making everything more difficult to endure. It's impossible for you to hide all your weaknesses. And even more impossible to stash your sudden shyness while Karina traces light patterns upon your neck as she lets out another giggle when you start avoiding her eye contact.

"You're cute when you're nervous," she says, that deep voice dripping with nothing but sin and seduction as she takes your chin, lifting you towards her. It's difficult to look away or hide, with her looking right into your eyes—a sharp, penetrative gaze that you can’t flee from, especially not when she gets this close, feeling her warm breath on your skin.

“Tell me—where's that confidence from a few minutes ago gone? A pretty girl sitting on your lap is all it takes for you to break?" Karina purrs against the shell of your ear, lips hovering dangerously close.

You stay silent, muscles all tensed up, breathing audibly and wanting nothing more than to pull away. And it only gets worse when her fingers run lightly through your hair, messing it up playfully as her breath lingers. "Hm? Still not talking? When did you ever get shy with me?"

Karina knows she's won.

As she presses up against your chest, drawing ever so slightly nearer, it's in that brief second when the warmth of her body against yours completely overwhelms you. There's no defense left against her little game of interrogation.

"Let's be real, I know you're jerking off every chance you get, especially when I have a dick inside me," she coos with the most angelic smile you've ever seen, eyes brimming with delight, her touch following the path of your body and taking pleasure in seeing all the little reactions she steals from you.

"But there's nothing wrong with that. Hell, I want you to. The thought of you stroking your cock with the image of me naked and getting fucked turns me on. Knowing my loud moans and screams are the perfect inspiration for your orgasm—that makes it all better, doesn't it?" Karina brushes her lips right into the crook of your neck as she whispers all these obscenities, making damn well sure you hear every single word.

You’ve completely frozen up. It’s not like you to be so demure, but also this isn’t like Karina.

"Oh, you wish it was you, don't you?” Karina asks, memorizing every detail in your expression. ”Poor thing, being stuck as my roommate—having to deal with the fact you aren't fucking me from behind, playing with my tits, and smacking my ass hard until my cheeks sting."

Seeing the clear frustration in your expression puts a smirk on her face again, experiencing the thrill of finally having the upper hand on you. Karina knows she has all the leverage, right here, right now.

"I know you're not the least bit innocent. Not with the way you looked at me when you saw me in nothing but a towel, fresh out of the shower, my naked tits still wet. I bet that made you jerk off right away, didn't it?"

"R-rina—" You finally manage to utter out her name after some considerable struggle, at a complete loss for words. Because this isn’t at all how you expected this to go, but she's right about every single detail, and you find it harder and harder to deny it.

"What is it, sweetie? Have something you wanna say? Wanna tell me the truth? That you fantasize about me all the time, don't you?" And Karina keeps leaning in closer, getting all the answers she wants before you can speak another word.

"Y-yeah, I—"

"Use your words. You can do that for me, can't you? Tell me all the things you can't stop thinking about."

"Fuck, Karina—it's the only thing I think about in the mornings. And at night. Every single day. Even when you haven't had anyone over in a while, I just think about fucking you, what that body looks like naked, how those huge tits would look bouncing in my face.”

You’ve cracked. And there’s no going back now.

"Go on, don't stop there, sweetheart. It's too late to be shy now." Karina smiles so pleasantly and cups your face to keep you from looking anywhere else, her tone immediately shifting. "Tell me you wanna fuck me. You want my tight pussy to swallow up your cock until I can't walk properly tomorrow. You've always wanted that, right?"

"Y-yes, god yes, that's—that's what I want. Wanna bury myself deep inside you, squeeze those perfect tits and fuck you so hard until I unload everything inside."

"See how easy that was? Turns out you’re not very innocent after all, are you?" And Karina seals your confession with a deep kiss, drawing you into a rather warm, heated embrace as she nips at the bottom of your earlobe, giving it the lightest tease before letting go.

"Let's give you everything you've ever wanted, sweetie."

Karina tears herself from the kiss, just so she can run her tongue along your bottom lip and get another taste for herself. A slight pant, and she doesn't waste another minute getting rid of her shirt, exposing her bare skin and massive tits no fabric can contain.

Your pants, they grow tighter in an instant. Those huge tits, the deep cleavage—they're nothing but hypnotic. Karina watches you stare with wonder for several long moments before unhooking her bra to get the entire picture. You swallow hard, eyes going wide as her breasts spill out from their restraints, pale and so fucking perfect, and god, you can't even think straight from how absolutely delicious they look.

Karina leans back to unveil her bare breasts in full view, and even the slightest movement makes them bounce gently. They're practically begging to be touched, and there's no hope of looking away. "Are they everything you ever imagined?"

A nod comes almost automatically in response, captivated by those enormous mounds with the prettiest nipples you've ever seen. Your roommate takes hold of your wrists and leads you to feel every last inch of her luscious pair, right where she knows your fingers want to go.

"Go on, show me exactly what you've always dreamed about, sweetie." Hardly able to believe what’s happening, you take the plunge as you indulge, these tits soft and supple in the palm of your hands. The full weight of her breasts is everything, Karina exhaling a breathy whimper when you massage them with a perfect grip, lightly squeezing, testing their sensitivity.

“You don't have to be gentle. You've wanted to play with these tits so bad, right? Don't hold back now,” Karina says with such a sweet voice. So you take her permission to heart, getting two full handfuls of creamy flesh to squeeze greedily and grope to your heart's desire.

You’re practically speechless. Nothing could ever match the way they fill your hands when you knead them, fingers digging into all that flesh to press them together, only to release and have them bounce, this recoil that seems almost unreal.

"God, these tits—they're fucking incredible, you know that?"

"Oh these? I’m sure all those times you'd peek down my top gave me a clue you’d love them. And you haven't even had them in your mouth yet," Karina says as she reaches for the back of your head. In an instant, she shoves your face right into the delicious valley of her pale breasts, suffocating you with all the softness and warmth of her plentiful chest provides. Her huge tits completely consume your vision, and there is no fighting the urge to lick a stripe down that cleavage to take in the first taste.

It only gets better as she encourages you, tightening fingers in your hair when you run your tongue around her stiff little nub before closing your lips around it, capturing it to suck softly. A delightful shudder rocks her, gasping loudly, and Karina guides your movements, keeping your attention spread out across both breasts to ensure the other isn't getting left behind.

"Good boy," she hums with all the satisfaction in the world, gripping harder when she presses you back into her chest, helping you indulge in this buffet that's been laid out before you. "You’ve been waiting forever for a chance to suck on these tits, haven’t you?"

You refuse to answer with words, replying instead with more frantic sucking, the nipple between your greedy lips growing wetter and wetter. But your free hand stays occupied, as you squeeze the other breast not in your mouth not so gently, sinking into the softness even further. Hungrily, you move between them, feasting on those divine tits to satiate all of your desires, and you’ll suck on them forever if she'll let you.

There's no better treat than the way she feels in your palms and all over your lips. Not now—not while all this lust floods your veins. Not while she whimpers, your actions gaining speed, faster and faster to keep Karina's sensitive nipples trapped in your lips and suck harder. She lets out her moans, a gorgeous sound that echoes, and you can feel every vibrating sound rippling through her ample chest.

"Jesus, your mouth is amazing," she breathes through all the gasps and the moans, all those noises a pure sign of encouragement that drives you forward, until you need a moment to draw a desperate breath. It doesn't stop there. You resume immediately, introducing a bit of teeth to nibble down into the smooth, pink buds, because like you've been told, there's no need to be gentle. Not when Karina clearly prefers it like that, tugging a fistful of your hair, hoping you'll get the message to apply just a little bit more pressure.

All of this attention you're giving her gets Karina nice and bothered, mouth hanging open as she pants to control her breathing. You could stay here forever, happily settled with a pair of tits stuffed into your mouth. Maybe she lets you. Maybe you spend an eternity exploring that delicious rack, because it can never truly satisfy your craving for them.

"Mmm, feels so fucking good," is how she answers your teeth dragging across those wet nipples, whining when it suddenly leaves, depriving her of your lips just you can stare longingly at the swell of her heavy breasts once again.

You have to admire your work on her sensitive breasts when you pull back, swimming in bliss as you see the sight of them glistening with your saliva, nipples so visibly hard and drenched now. There's no denying how much you love having Karina's huge tits all to yourself, how you just want to drown in all this soft, pale flesh.

"Don’t tell me you’re done already?" Karina asks, disappointment in her tone while she strokes the back of your head. "I can feel how fucking hard that cock of yours is from just sucking on my tits…"

Once again, you have no response, still lost in a fog of lust as you squeeze those supple mounds, giving another tender lick to those nipples covered in spit to get the smallest gasp from her lips. "I could play with your big fucking tits all day.”

Karina giggles, content to let you do just that. "Well, you've earned that, sweetheart. But I think we should move this to the bedroom, so we can get more comfortable, and maybe you can get me out of these clothes?”

"Yeah—right, bedroom," you repeat, distracted by how tantalizing her perfect tits look still soaked with your spit. She laughs and offers up a hand to help pull you to your feet, taking the chance to sneak another kiss before you get too far apart.

You’re dragged along up to her room, left to gawk over her body as you follow obediently. Those shorts are just a bit too tight to hide any details of her curvy ass, which sways rhythmically with every last step. The second the bedroom door shuts behind you, Karina pulls you right into another embrace, a hot and needy kiss, your hands finding their place on her slender waist you plan to become familiar with.

"Get me naked like you've always fantasized," Karina says the instant your lips separate, heading towards the bed without waiting for your response. You don't have to be told twice, too eager to find out how the rest of her body compares as she bends over, placing her hands on the sheets.

The scene in front of you sends a rush of anticipation, and immediately, you reach for those ridiculously tight shorts, pausing a moment only to feel just how firm Karina's butt is under them. This all feels like a dream, one that you hope stays a reality as your eyes aimlessly wander all over this flawless skin.

Her huge breasts push into the mattress, so soft and inviting, fighting for your attention from that backside, and this is already so overwhelming, before you’ve even seen what’s underneath here.

"Taking your sweet time, hm?" she teases, rolling her hips ever so slightly, hoping to hurry your pace, a hint you gladly take without an ounce of hesitation. Undoing her zipper takes only seconds, and Karina's smooth, pale thighs become more exposed as you gradually peel her shorts down inch by inch. The curve of her ass nearly spills out from the pink thong you've seen for the first time, and this sight is almost as breathtaking as her massive chest.

"Only get to do this for the first time once."

“You poor thing. Guess I can’t blame you.” Slipping out of her shorts with ease, Karina makes them drop to the floor where they can be easily forgotten. You're left frozen in awe at the perfection of her full, plump ass that looks far too good in this thong, and those creamy thighs that must feel like heaven wrapped around your head.

"Come on, take my panties off too. You want a full view of this all, don't you?" Once you're done admiring her shapely ass, Karina turns her gaze over her shoulder, that smile far too much to deny. And as much as you want to keep staring, your hands already move on their own, desperate to finish what you've started.

Running your fingertips under the waistband, you tug that thin fabric right off, to reveal the fullness of those scrumptious cheeks and that pink, glistening pussy that looks too mouthwatering to resist.

Now it all comes together.

Karina is flawless, every deadly curve, every inch of milky white skin exposed, giving you yet another reason to stare at that sinful figure. There's no fighting the urge to squeeze what your fingers can sink into, taking a nice handful of her shapely rear that you can’t take your eyes off. It's an addiction without a cure, groping those juicy cheeks that are the definition of perfection, and you can't decide which part of her you want to worship the most.

"Such a pervert," Karina giggles, and this time you can’t say you disagree with that.

"Never said I wasn't." There's no point in denying what she clearly already knows, not when you can't look anywhere else. Not after being denied the privilege of her body until this moment—you've got some time to make up.

"The first time you've seen me naked and all you can do is stare?" Karina quirks an eyebrow, putting her hand on her hips, to display that body deserving of all the praise you can give her. She closes the distance between the two of you in just a few short steps, grabbing hold of the collar on your shirt. "How about you show me something too while you're drooling?"

There's no hesitation on your end, knowing what’s expected as you pull your shirt over your head and drop it on the ground to join her clothes. Karina runs a fingertip along your bare chest, an approving smile spreading over her lips while her eyes glance over you carefully, this newfound hunger in her eyes.

"Much better," she says, and now you're the one who's being gawked at, shirtless, under the gaze of your undeniably stunning roommate who can't help herself from exploring your body. You can’t say you don’t mind the attention at all.

She traces the outline of your biceps, grazing along your shoulders, then down to your abdomen, leaving a faint, teasing touch to test the reaction she receives. And then, with no warning, those fingers move lower to palm your growing bulge so blatantly straining through your pants.

"You're so fucking hard, it must be painful. But this time, I can help you with that. What do you wanna do with me, sweetheart?"

Where do you even start? Never did you expect to be caught in a moment like this, your roommate fully naked, stroking her hand along the length of your clothed cock, ready to finally do something about this pent-up tension she's caused. The possibilities are endless—but when Karina is looking at you like this, her fingers making your cock throb, waiting for you to choose, it's hard to think straight.

"Can't decide? I don't blame you. But don't worry—I know just what we can start with." You don't have time to guess as Karina takes the lead and pushes you back towards her bed, patting the mattress. "Be a good boy and sit here, and I’ll take care of you."

Karina drops to her knees ever so slowly and licks her lips. Before you realize what's going on, she's pulling down your pants, boxers falling shortly after, and now she can see exactly what you were hiding underneath, this hard shaft that's been desperate to spring loose.

"Oh my god, your cock—it's gorgeous, sweetie," Karina gasps, staring right at your stiff shaft twitching impatiently just for her.

There's barely a chance to process everything happening before she reaches forward, running a curious finger up the underside of your cock and watching the resulting shudder. Those pretty fingers wrap around your aching length, and Karina smiles up at you with pure delight in her eyes as she jerks your cock slowly, discovering all these new reactions you make.

"Karina," you gasp out, almost choking, a shiver running down your spine at that light stroke—almost too fleeting for it to bring any pleasure. She repeats, with more enthusiasm, tightening her grip and using the clear liquid that leaks out to aid the movement of her fingers.

"Look at you, so fucking hard, throbbing so much for me. You like that? My hand wrapped around your cock?"

Karina has this look on her face that has no business being that damn innocent, not with those fingers squeezing you just right, or those huge breasts that shake ever so slightly with each pump of her fist. When she begins to pick up the pace, working you faster, twisting her hand up and down the length of your hard shaft, the urge to do anything but moan becomes near impossible. “You really do, don’t you? Well then, how about this—“

A string of spit falls onto your cock, smearing over her palm to slicken your shaft. She leans down to part her lips, hot breath hitting your shaft for the first time as she takes the entire head in her mouth and starts to gently suck, tongue working right behind.

"Shit, oh my god, Karina—“

She’s got you in her sights, and there's nothing to do but surrender completely to the pleasure, eyes locked with her as she keeps those lips sealed tight, the wet warmth of her mouth engulfing you little by little. Karina's response comes in an instant, bobbing her head, slurping down on your shaft so greedily, showing all the appreciation you’ve earned.

It's when her gaze flickers upwards to see your expression that it really becomes the death of you—the sight of her staring, with her round doe eyes, sucking and lapping around your shaft so eagerly is just too much to take. And if that wasn’t enough, her cheeks hollow out, every long pass making the view even better—this filthy slurping and sucking as her drool starts to run down your shaft, spilling from the corner of her lips to create the perfect picture.

It's messy and wet, the sounds that accompany this sloppy blowjob only adding to the heat that's building. Her tongue doesn't stay dormant, sliding up and down and flicking around your swollen cockhead as she tastes what her lips aren't currently around.

"Your mouth, god, your mouth feels fucking incredible—" is about all you can gasp.

"Did you expect anything else?" Karina asks as she takes more of your cock, swallowing deep down without warning, bobbing faster and going just a little further to see how many inches you can handle down her throat.

Her mouth feels like heaven, so slick and warm, with those luscious lips wrapped so tightly around your throbbing cock. A steady back and forth rhythm keeps up to take more, over and over, until every inch is nestled firmly into the tight grip of her throat. “I've been missing out on sucking this beautiful cock of yours—mmph."

Her mouth only gets messier as she slurps and swallows you down, resting her palms on your bare thighs, taking down your length with far more vigor than you could hope for. This blowjob is effortless on her end, a routine, and Karina doesn't pause to catch her breath or rest her throat—she’s driven, determined to keep her spell on you, without a moment where she even looks close to gagging.

"How does that mouth feel on your cock, sweetie?" Karina asks. The words come so easy between slurps and sucks on your aching shaft, getting wetter from all the slick saliva that helps keep you buried down her throat.

"So fucking good," you groan, tilting your head back, and there isn't anything else you could think of to properly praise this work. That's all Karina wants to hear.

"Then let me make you feel even better,” she tells you, flashing a wicked smile with a gleam in her eye that has your cock pulsing hard between her lips. Before you can question a thing, her mouth releases your slick cock, taking these lazy strokes to keep you nice and stiff. There’s a moment where nearly nothing happens, aside from her staring and pumping your cock. The silence lingers. Until finally, she takes your cock, hard as can be—

Karina guides it directly between her enormous breasts. You can hardly breathe, much less speak, and your jaw practically drops when you feel the soft flesh of her massive chest wrapped snugly around your shaft. Her hands come together, fingers interlocking, pressing those tits tighter against your length and that devilish smirk returns as she looks down at the surprise and joy in your expression.

And you can hardly believe the sight when she begins to rock her chest, trapping you between her tits with no chance to escape. The friction picks up, sliding the entire length of your cock with no intention of slowing down or stopping, and Karina stares right into your eyes, admiring the pleasure written all over your features to make sure you commit this to memory.

With her tits wrapped so perfectly around your cock, you won’t last long. But that doesn’t matter. You’ll enjoy every second. Every delicate squeeze, every lingering moment her fingers massage the base of your needy, throbbing shaft. And when she spits between her deep cleavage to make the friction even better, a slicker mess for your cock to slide between, that’s how you start to lose it.

“Jesus, Karina—feels so fucking good, oh my god.” It took so long getting used to the blissful suction from that pretty mouth, but this? There isn't any way to survive these full breasts that keep your entire length enveloped in such perfect warmth.

“Does it? Love how good your cock looks between my big tits."

You can’t disagree one bit, because it looks almost as good as it feels. There's no describing how euphoric it all is, the way your shaft vanishes into that perfect valley of pale flesh with Karina squeezing firmly, grinding her chest up and down to let the slippery friction of her soft breasts coax those dizzying groans out of your mouth. "You love fucking my tits, don't you, sweetie?"

"Yeah—so much, this is just, fuck,” you moan, nearly collapsing back against the sheets at the intense sensations that jolt through your body.

But Karina doesn't give you a chance to relax, quickening her pace, making your whole shaft throb with need as you continue to watch that massive pair of breasts move and bounce atop your shaft. She's loving this as much as you are, dragging out all these desperate moans that beg for more.

"Look how needy you sound—all because you get to fuck these huge tits," Karina teases you, grinding her upper body harder, massaging your achingly hard cock that looks devastatingly good sandwiched between her breasts like that. Your mouth stays open, but no words spill out, leaving room for more groans and she doesn't hesitate to keep that pleasure building and building with such intensity.

You know this can't last forever, but despite that, you're savoring this mind-numbing pleasure, doing what you can not to succumb and explode too soon. These tits are so soft, so warm, and you're throbbing so much from the friction alone, trying to delay the inevitable when your cock disappears and reappears between Karina's abundant cleavage.

"Can't take much more—"

Karina smiles, smug and devious all at the same time as she doesn't bother to ease up, your stiff shaft begging to release all over those perfect breasts. There's not another moment to delay this endless bliss driving you mad, your balls tight and throbbing for an orgasm you can't ignore. "Are you going to cum, sweetie? Ready to make a huge fucking mess all over my tits?"

You're practically delirious, finding it harder to breathe, the weakest nod all you can give. But Karina can tell how close you are by how your cock endlessly throbs and leaks. She shifts forward again, squeezing as tight as possible, bringing you closer and closer to a long overdue release. All this delicious friction is too much, bringing that pleasure to the very edge, and when you look down at her again and share the next glance, the encouraging look in her eyes is the last thing that sets you off.

"Be a good boy and cum for me. Cum all over these tits like you've always wanted to."

That's all it takes.

Your whole body tenses and stiffens as your climax swells up and hits you hard. With your cock nestled between her tits, you can see everything as the first blast of sticky, white cum fires up and explodes all over her pale skin, groaning with every spurt that splashes across her breasts and neck, one heavy, thick stream after another that leaves you shaking.

Karina doesn't cease for one instant, her tits snugly pressed together as you fill up her cleavage with hot cum, keeping this explosive orgasm going strong. Her full lips part with surprise as your load leaves such a mess, this heavy warmth clinging all over her exposed skin, coating her deep cleavage nicely with that sticky sheen. Her breasts make you cum harder than you think you ever have.

And even when it's all over, your load dripping down and oozing out between her huge tits, they stay where they are, squeezing it all out so she can ensure nothing gets wasted. Only when Karina is satisfied that you've been properly drained, your breath all heavy and weak, does she ease off, freeing your cock from her cleavage just to rub your sensitive tip against her hardened nipples to smear the warm mess you made.

"Such a huge, thick load for me. You needed that so badly, right? Didn’t it feel so good to get it all out over my perfect tits?"

Words fail you, only able to muster a weak tilt of your head as you lean back, spent completely, eyes focused on the glistening mess on Karina's chest, all this cum that she wears proudly to put on a little show to display your work.

"Did I make you cum too hard for you to talk, sweetie? You poor thing, how long has it been since someone got you off like this?"

"D-dunno," you say breathlessly, watching her hand continue to work up and down your drained shaft, still twitching desperately, needing every second of her attention. "Can't remember—far too long."

"Oh baby, that's no good—this beautiful cock should always be given attention." There's no denying how right she is about that, but before you can even muster a sound in response, Karina is gripping your cock a little tighter in her hand to keep it rigid. While you stare at those beautiful, cum-covered breasts, the lust has hardly faded. "Think you can handle going again? Or does your cock need a little more time to rest?"

There's only one possible answer. As sensitive and sore as your cock might be after shooting a load all over those fabulous tits, your hardness makes its intentions clear when it pulsates with need in her hand. You'd be disappointed if you stopped now.

"Need more. Need to be inside you, please," you respond, borderline pleading to finally feel what Karina's heavenly pussy feels like—how tight that immaculate grip must be.

“Thought so. But there's no need to beg, sweetheart—now why don't you lie on the bed so I can ride your cock?"

You’ve never heard a more beautiful set of words.

There's no second thought or hesitation. Karina is every bit willing to fulfill all your desires as you climb onto the bed and get comfy on the sheets. She crawls over on her hands and knees, but doesn't settle right into your lap. Instead, she presses her warm body atop your own, your naked flesh crashing together, those heavy breasts squashed tightly up against your bare chest as her lips find your own.

Her skin is so soft when you caress it, and the kisses come so abruptly, as does the hand that snakes down to lazily stroke your cock while she's busy letting her sweet taste linger on your lips.

"Tell me whenever you're ready, and I’ll take you inside me. This is just a nice little warmup," Karina promises in such a dulcet tone that you're tempted to respond immediately—but honestly, you don't know if you'll ever be ready for what she has in store.

So you lie there, surrendering to those lips, and let yourself revel in this delightful warmth she presses against you. It's the kind of lackadaisical make-out session that could never end, with no urgent need to rush. Her kisses are slow and steady, lips claiming yours with the same care and attention her fingers give your stiff shaft, jerking you off at a deliberate pace that makes you leak more and more for her.

"Rina—"

"Yes, baby? What do you need?" Karina responds as she pulls her face away, waiting for that answer, but doesn't dare stop pumping your needy, achingly hard shaft in her delicate fingers. "Need to be inside me, sweetie? Do you wanna know how good my pussy feels?"

"So badly, yeah," you answer with haste, nearly stuttering over the words as Karina pushes herself into a full mount to straddle your lap. She swings her thighs on either side of you, all spread out so you can get a teasing glimpse of her pussy while she gazes down at you with a sweet smile, your shaft aching against your abdomen.

"Tell me exactly what you need. Wanna hear it from you, sweetie. Don't get shy on me now."

"Want you to fuck me—wanna be deep inside that beautiful pussy, want you to ride me until you cum. Please." The words tumble right out, and it's all so embarrassing, but that's exactly what she wanted, isn't it?

Karina takes your acceptance on her offer with a beaming smile, reaching behind her to grab your aching cock in her palm, keeping a firm grip as she positions herself to guide you inside. The anticipation hits its peak when she lifts her wide hips up, bringing you right against the warm entrance of her slick pussy.

"Don't you worry. I'll ride you until we both cum."

Before your next breath, Karina lowers herself—a slow descent onto your cock that spreads her pussy lips apart, sinking into that soaked, wet heat inch after inch. You're coated with all this slickness, and that tight cunt squeezes so goddamn hard as she works you deeper, breath shaky when you hit the deepest parts of her.

"Fuck—it's so big," Karina curses, shifting in your lap for the briefest pause to adjust, bracing herself to take more. “You still with me, sweetie? You’ve gone quiet again.”

"How can I say anything, when your pussy feels this tight and incredible?"

Karina just laughs. The moment her hips lower again, she’s already in motion, gyrating on you, adjusting to the tight fit. There's no time to process it all, with that hot cunt sliding up and down your length. She doesn't tease, and her movements aren’t the least bit gradual, just the rapid rise and fall of her body.

“You fill me up so nicely, sweetheart,” Karina says, the praise sending you over the moon as she rests her hands on your chest for support.

It's every bit as mind blowing as you'd hoped it would be. Her wetness makes for an effortless movement of her hips, keeping a steady pace right off the bat that leaves you helpless beneath her. "Does that feel good? Do you like how my wet little pussy grips your big cock?"

You want to reply, but that pussy is so perfect, wet and warm all over your aching length. So all that leaves your lips is a strangled moan that has Karina lifting her hips up with more ferocity. You don't dare close your eyes for one instant as she rides you with that sinfully tight cunt, your shaft vanishing inside her slick entrance, over and over.

Nothing surpasses this—to see Karina so beautiful on top, those luscious tits bouncing whenever she drops back down to fill herself up with your hard cock, only to ride up again and leave you gasping.

"Fuck, love being inside you," you say, trying your best to speak, but it's a challenge when her cunt gets tighter after each wild plunge. Those heavy tits move in motion with her hips, and the sight of her alone has you groaning as she gives it her all, relentless on that cock. "Can't believe how good your pussy feels, fuck—"

"Yeah? You like how I ride you? How I take your thick cock all the way in with ease?" she says, drawing you right back in.

Karina doesn't stop. The pace gets faster with each drop down on your shaft. It's more than you can handle, watching that perfect body move so effortlessly as she takes you balls deep to make you groan beneath her, so utterly drenched and tight around you.

You can’t take your eyes off her jiggling chest, how hypnotic the bounces of those breasts get, and this is the perfect chance to take them in your hands once more, squeezing and groping the flesh while Karina fucks herself harder on your cock.

"There you go, play with those fucking tits—squeeze them, smack them, do whatever you'd like." Karina gives the offer, and your fingers are already moving to obey, grabbing a perfect handful of those supple tits that can't even be contained in your palms.

It's the distraction you desperately need, and the first slap to one of her pale breasts comes so quickly, the pliant skin rippling so nicely under the impact of your hand.

"Fuck, again—slap those fucking tits, baby, just like that," Karina demands, and who are you to deny her? There's not a thing to hold you back, taking turns to slap those wonderful breasts with enough force that they bounce against each strike, and they get so red under your fingers. Each slap gets harsher than the last, earning the best response from her—a tightening grip around your hard cock and loud whimpers whenever your palm makes contact with that supple flesh, turning her creamy skin a darker shade.

All this treatment leaves your cock dripping wet with Karina's slick juices, every part of you soaked as she keeps bouncing her gorgeous body atop your stiff length.

Her mouth stays open to voice her satisfaction with needy gasps and groans, every inch of her pussy stretched around your girth, keeping you deep. Those continuous smacks against her jiggling tits elicit the sweetest whines, reddened so beautifully from all this attention.

Karina loves it all. So needy for your touch, for this sweet punishment she takes with all the desperation as you smack her tits while she rides your cock. Her movements, they’re hard to handle, hips slamming hard against you as that plump ass bounces on your cock, picking up all this speed. Fucking you harder and harder, those heavy tits never cease bouncing wildly, smacking together when you give a respite to let the sting linger.

"Fucking love your cock inside me, sweetie—love it so fucking much," she tells you, hips rolling faster to keep the pace going strong, all this wetness and heat smothering you.

And now you're content to just lie back, taking in the view while Karina rides you, how she takes every inch of your throbbing shaft like it belongs inside her. She keeps a perfect rhythm that buries your cock inside her tight pussy with every impale, so wet and slick when she brings those hips back up to start the entire process again.

"Gonna fucking cum, baby. Gonna fucking cum all over this hard cock. Can you last long enough?" Karina asks with a coy little smirk, not faltering for even an instant as she keeps fucking you, tight pussy clinging so harshly around your length. And to be honest, you don't even know yourself—but Karina seems determined to drain your balls, even if it has you finishing way sooner than you’d like.

"D-dunno," you answer, knowing that with your hands on her body and those bouncing breasts so mesmerizing, there's only so long before you're pushing past the point of no return. "Probably not—"

Karina lets out a giggle in response that gets ripped right out when she takes you so unbelievably deep, all of your thick cock filling her up in the right way. She's so fucking tight, pale skin glistening with sweat in the light, adding to the view that could get you off from just the sight of her devilish body. "That's okay, sweetie. This cock feels too fucking good to stop."

The next few breaths are all a blur as this becomes a race to the finish. Your eyes stay glued to Karina, unable to look away as her hips move on autopilot. Amidst each movement, she moves quicker with every passing moment, that delicious wetness sliding along your hard length, bouncing her ass each time those thighs slam down on you. The bed squeaks and shakes beneath the constant, rhythmic impact, and you know this can only end one way—

"Shit, sweetheart, gonna fucking cum all over that dick, oh my god—" Karina falls over the edge first, and that cunt grips harder than ever like a vice, nearly unbearable, overflowing with arousal while she quivers above you. Her lips fall open as she looks down with half-lidded eyes, fingernails digging straight into your chest when it hits, every whimpering cry a lovely symphony for you to listen, to watch as it all happens, clinging for dear life while she climaxes so fucking hard all over your cock.

It's incredible, to see the way she loses herself completely to the pleasure, the mess that drowns your shaft while her tight pussy keeps spasming with every gush, and you have to grit your teeth to hold everything at bay.

“You wanna cum in me, sweetie?" she asks, through ragged breaths, a proud look shining through the bliss on her face, still riding that intense high.

A question like that only has one answer.

"Y-yeah, so badly—wanna fucking fill you up," you say, with all the confidence you've ever had. Pushing herself into overdrive, Karina fucks you as fast as her body allows, this mindless, relentless motion of those hips that drives you to the very edge, those big tits bouncing wildly until there's no chance you'll hold back—not a second longer.

And then you fucking spill. You seize her body and keep those hips pinned in place, buried to the hilt as your cock pulsates and throbs inside her warm cunt. Everything fires all at once, flooding right into Karina, thick spurt after thick spurt as she watches the pleasure overtake you. Her walls clench down to milk it straight out of your throbbing shaft as your moans pour out, making sure this huge mess goes where it belongs while you pump her full of cum.

It feels like it’ll never end—so unbelievably overwhelming, your balls emptying right inside Karina, the relief of getting to blow your load inside her for the first time that keeps getting better and better. All your hot seed unloads into her warm pussy, filling her to the brim, and her euphoric gaze help your intense climax linger by the second.

And when there’s nothing left in your balls, Karina still wears that blissed-out smile as she remains right on your shaft, the weight of her body coming to rest against yours. She weakly runs her slender fingers through your hair and kisses you tenderly, both sharing this moment of pure euphoria.

"Good boy..."

The weight of those words, they nearly make you blow again.

Karina plays with your hair as she takes those sloppy, lazy kisses, with your spent shaft still nestled deep inside her dripping cunt. You don't dare move, or do anything else. She seems quite content to just stay there motionless, your bodies pressed so closely together as your cock stays warm in her pussy. "Didn't think you had that much left in you, sweetie. Fucked it right out of you, huh?"

You're much too exhausted to respond, so instead you just lean in for more, letting those lips do what they do best, savoring the taste, the bliss, and all this sweat on your body and hers.

It's in that moment the realization hits that your relationship has shifted. No longer do you have to listen to Karina get railed through the walls—because it's you who's in her bed now, naked, covered in sweat, with your cum deep inside her, and her lips feel so good on your bare skin that you don’t ever want to leave this position.

"So—” she says, and her voice hardly sounds out of breath in comparison. “Do you wanna shower first or—do you wanna just go again?“

It's the most absurd thing to hear—as if she didn't just drain you, the evidence still deep between her legs.

“Both."

Not the answer Karina was expecting, but one that leaves her more than pleased as she presses another kiss to your cheek before finally climbing off you. A few careful steps later and she makes her way across the room, your cum slowly trickling down her thighs. Not stopping to clean any of it, she just lets your load drip out as she saunters into the bathroom and leaves the door wide open.

"Don't keep me waiting, sweetie."

✦ ✦

When you next get wrapped up in these sheets, it’s the exact same picture. But you’re the one on top, lips wandering all over Karina, fingers interlocked while she gets all giggly between kisses. The sweat is still there, and so are the handprints, but this time in a different location, imprinted all over her pale buttcheeks.

And now you’ve learned that the view from behind is almost as impeccable as it is from the front, to see Karina bent over, those ridiculous breasts bouncing freely like there's no controlling them while you ram into her wet pussy. And then you cum, hard—inside her, of course, because how could you not when you’ve got both of her jiggly tits in your palms, squeezing that magnificent pair as you unload right into her pussy.

With Karina, there’s no such thing as too much, or too often—not with that body. You make her cum on your face twice, and then she returns the favor moments after. This time, it’s all over her face, absolutely covering her, that fucking picture-perfect face that makes it seem like Karina isn’t real. But she is—and the way she smiles as your cum drips down her gorgeous features proves it.

No longer do you go to bed horny, but exhausted, with Karina lying beside you. Your own bed becomes neglected as your days and nights become spent in her room, listening to her fall asleep, head resting on those perfect breasts that put any other pillows to shame.

Your mornings start with Karina, greeting her with your head buried between her creamy thighs while the coffee gets brewed. But she doesn’t need you to look after her when her head spins, because she doesn’t get as hungover anymore, with no reason to get drunk off her ass when she has you to help take the edge off whenever she needs it.

It isn’t a relationship by title, but you certainly have all the benefits, the biggest one being your cum coating those big tits as often as it gets inside her pussy—

“Fuck me again,” she breathes in your ear one morning, seconds after you just finished all over her chest, your cock still painfully hard in between them. You’ve got your hands all over her messy tits when she asks it, fondling the soft flesh slick with cum, making shallow pumps between her deep cleavage, but her greedy little pussy calls to you.

But before you slip out—a loud knock on the door interrupts out of nowhere.

"Were you expecting someone?" you ask Karina, but her eyes tell you she's just as confused, face covered with sweat and her hair all disheveled from this hot and heavy session.

"No, I wasn't. Were you?" she asks in return, and neither of you pay it any attention. But the knocks continue, more urgent, more frequent. You don't think it's the neighbors coming to complain—that wouldn't happen this early, and you're mostly surrounded by other students and college grads anyway. "Ugh. Just ignore it. We can continue fucking—"

And that's what you both plan to do. It isn't until the knocks turn into full on bangs that Karina sighs and gives up. "God, fuck. This better be important."

You can see the anger and annoyance written all over her face.

Karina doesn't bother to throw a towel over herself before heading to the door in all her glory, naked and beautiful, still covered in your load, all the sticky, white mess dripping down her chest that she couldn't possibly clean in time before the door swings wide open—

Yizhuo.

It's fucking Yizhuo. Standing there at the doorstep. And there's Karina, all naked, and Yizhuo seems completely unfazed to see her without a shred of clothes.

"Hey," Yizhuo says casually, like this isn't the weirdest thing she could have seen standing in front of her. "Do you usually answer the door naked like this? Was there a fire?"

"When you won't fucking stop knocking and interrupting, yeah. What is it?"Karina sounds so angry that Yizhuo is almost taken back, and you just watch from a distance after slipping your boxers back on.

"Well, I haven't heard from you in a while. Came to check how you're doing, you haven't shown up at any of the parties lately. Wanted to make sure you're still alive. You could have sent a message if you're too fucking busy to talk—"

"What? I'm not—sorry, I've had a lot of assignments, and—you know," Karina hesitates, stuttering to explain her absence to Yizhuo. She looks at you as if to plead for some support. "I-I'm...fine. Totally fine."

"Assignments, yeah, that's what it looks like you were busy with. Explains why you're all naked and sweaty," Yizhuo says, almost mockingly. But Karina just bites her lip and frantically waves you over.

"What the fuck were you knocking so loudly this early for, then?"

"To make sure you weren't dead! That's it," Yizhuo retorts, and it's all too funny how this is turning out. Karina isn't even ashamed to have been caught—even more so when you stand at her side, half naked and covered with sweat, just like her.

"Oh. Hi there, you must be Karina's new boyfrie—"

"He's my roommate!"

Yizhuo raises a brow at that, as if to challenge the excuse. "You have a roommate?"

"He moved in last year," Karina clarifies, with an exasperated sigh. But that isn't what Yizhuo cares about right now, or what she even wants to know—

"And you fuck him?"

"Yizhuo!"

"That's not a no. He's cuter than the last guy I saw you with. Does he have a name?" Yizhuo asks, turning to you instead, and she's all grins as you finally step forward to meet her. "You got a name, or is that only reserved for Karina to scream?"

"Okay, time to leave, you've seen enough."

Karina's more embarrassed than offended. And Yizhuo seems all too amused, but you don't miss that lingering gaze when she gives you a quick scan up and down, admiring all of you—from your bare chest down to your boxers. "Well, I'll let you two get back to fucking—"

"Alright! Time for you to go—have a good day, and text me if you want to meet up, yeah? We'll get something to eat, or have a coffee."

And just like that, the door closes shut behind her, and you can't help but laugh as Karina sighs in defeat and collapses onto the wooden frame.

"So, that's Yizhuo—" you say, trying to keep it together, but she glares back at you as if it's all your fault that this happened.

"Don't," she mutters. "Not a word, sweetie."

"She's cute, too."

"What? Oh my god, seriously, do not—" Karina protests, but she just rolls her eyes and gives this faux look of annoyance as she pulls you closer. "Do you wanna fuck her too?"

"I didn't say that," you reply, and without even getting a chance to explain yourself Karina silences you with her lips. It's all tongue and teeth and it's so damn sloppy that it takes a while before either of you can get another word in.

"You can fuck her if you want. I don't mind. If you think she's cute, that is. Go and fuck her. You have my blessing."

You laugh, still finding all this absurd "I don't—Karina, that's not what I meant. It's fine. I like what I have."

"And what is that?" Karina ponders, peppering your face with kisses.

"A hot roommate with amazing tits that lets me cum inside her everyday,” you blurt out, and Karina just turns beet red from embarrassment.

"Yeah? Is that all I am to you?" she asks, almost cracking up at the end from her snorting laughter, her arms moving around your waist to tug you closer. "Maybe all you are to me is just a big cock for me to ride.”

"Well, as long as we've got it all figured out—"

And just like that, your lips crash again in unison.

“But if you want, I can give you Yizhuo’s number. Pretty sure she would suck you off in the middle of a park if you just asked her for the time."

"Jesus," you mutter, incredulous at the words slipping from her lips. "Didn't you say she was your best friend?"

"Oh, she is. But she's also the biggest slut I know." Karina has the widest grin you've ever seen.

You don't even have a word to say to that, but you don't need one when you let those lips overtake yours again. "Weren't we in the middle of something? We’ve still got an hour before I have to shower and get to class, so I better see you fucking me into next week."

And you can't possibly resist that.

#kpop smut #aespa smut #karina smut #reader insert #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #reader x karina

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sungiescheotluv · 17 days ago

Text

mirror muscles ⭑.ᐟ na jaemin

pairing: na jaemin x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive, gym talk(?)

summary: doing your new resolutions with jaemin has always worked in your favor, most goals ticked off your lists. however, when you mention going to gym, jaemin's enthusiasm reaches new heights.

notes: hiyaaaa! it feels like forever since i last posted (two days omg 🙄) but i do hope you pretty stars enjoy this very indulgent fic! as an aspiring gym girlie, i'd do anything for this kind of princess treatment (particularly from jaemin 😋) also, the title of this is based on the soft play song with the same name (emo jisung, lemme give u some music recs). ok, i think i'm done here. wishing u all the best, much loveeee! <3

Note to self: never, under any circumstances, tell Jaemin your New Year’s resolution. Because one peek at your ambitious list and Jaemin will pry you from your warm bed, at the ass crack of dawn (might you add) to go to the gym because ‘nothing beats a morning pump.’

If you weren’t stupidly in love with him, you would’ve dropped a dumbbell on his toe.

How you get to this point is a lot more wholesome. Since the start of your relationship, once snow trickles down for Christmas, you two sit at your dining table with your laptops opened on Pinterest and pin-point what goals you'd like to achieve the following year. This way, you’re not shouldering your ambitions alone, having each other every step of the year as you tick off box after box. So far, you’ve managed to complete most of your goals. Go traveling, learn a new language, cook more home-cooked meals, limit screen time (still working on that) and many more. Jaemin was also progressing well: dedicating more time in his photography, reducing his coffee intake, going to bed earlier and visiting his mother more.

For this year’s moodboard, while collecting pictures of your next set of goals, fitness content shows up in your recommendations. People in pilates studios in their pastel pink gym-sets. The aesthetic draws you in, how content people feel moving their body besides getting their 10k steps a day in. More photos start showing up, people sculpting their pride in the gym, sharing personal stories of their fitness journey and how the gym has taught them so much about themselves. What they’re capable of, what they never thought they could do and what opportunities lie await now that they’re happier in themselves. It all seems promising, even more so when you reconsider how bright your best friend’s life’s become since making the choice. She’d rarely accompany you to a game of badminton and now she’s pioneering her own run-club, amassing a social media following the size of an army.

You’d have to ask her how to get started once she’s back from her influencer trip (maybe content creating is something you needed to hop on). Then again, peering over your laptop screen to Jaemin’s glowing face, you could simply ask him. He’s been consistently going to the gym for a while now, to the point where you fake-pleaded for SM to close their gym because your boyfriend's become too buff for you to function. He’s always been gorgeous, with a face that could charm a snake, but now that he’s carved like a Renaissance sculpture, you couldn’t form a coherent sentence around him. Of course, aesthetic reasons are what lured him into the space, but he relays it’s become a lot more than that for him.

“I want to be strong, not only to build my confidence but to also protect my loved ones,” he looks directly at you, a serious hue to his eyes. “It’s another form of self-love. Showing up for myself, proving I can do hard things, even when I don’t want to. That I can step out of my comfort zone, try new things and ultimately, live a longer life. Because at the end of the day, as much as I do this for me, I also do it so I can help you carry groceries. So that I can move furniture around when we move in together, be the one that my family calls if they need something physically demanding done,”

Fondness curves his lips, a flicker of timidity dart his eyes down to the desk before they flicker back up at you, astoundingly earnest as he says, “I’d also want to keep up with our kids. Carry them when they’re tired or run after them in a park. Those are my reasons.”

Something stutters in your chest. Then, leaps. Over the course of your three year relationship, it’s only natural that topics like this are mentioned, like marriage and children. Heck, you two shared a Pinterest board of decor ideas for the shared apartment you’d been on the lookout for. So, it shouldn't phase you but it does. How far into the future he sees with you. How he shares a bit of himself so effortlessly, in a way that lacks pressure and possesses good faith. Love and promise. All prominent themes throughout your relationship, one you thank your lucky stars for.

As a consequence, you flush. Folding like the early days of your relationships. “You’re getting bold these days. We haven’t even moved in together.”

“All in good time, angel,” he grins, looking a bit lovesick. “In any case, if this is something you wanna do, I’d be more than happy to help. Go to the gym with you so you don’t feel anxious, show you how to use the machines, get you workout clothes - whatever you want.”

You could marry this man.

You extend your arm across the wooden table, hand finding his as your fingers interlace, the same song and dance you’d hope you’d spend your life doing. “Thanks, baby.”

And now? Now, divorce weighs heavily on your mind.

In an effort to avoid the New Year’s crowd, Jaemin wakes you up early in the slum of days after Christmas where time doesn’t exist, cuddling into your half-sleeping figure with a gentle voice. Coaxes you to get up, slip on the new gym clothes you’d spent on his card (his treat, he said) and somehow, here you are, stinging eyes squinting under fluorescent lights with some EDM track playing faintly in the background.

“Oh, baby. Don’t look so down, you’re in good hands,” Jaemin coos, hand squishing your cheeks under your chin before pulling you into his chest, warm and comforting. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Couldn’t this wait until,” you glance at your fitness tracker, your own treat to yourself. “Midday? No one needs to be here at 9 am.”

“Maybe, but it’s a good way to start your day. Or get it out of the way,” he chuckles, spinning you out his arms before he wiggles his eyebrows. “Plus, who doesn’t want to see my muscles first thing in the morning?”

He drives home his point by kissing his bicep, something that should make you cringe out your skin or disappear without a trace, but no. Perhaps you’re still sleepy, shielding a snicker with your hand because of how lame (said adoringly) he is.

“You said you’d usually start off with thirty minutes on the treadmill, right?” You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I’ll run for fifteen and row until you're done. So you don’t constantly have me in your ear.”

You laugh, because as grumpy as you’d been on the way here, you could never grow tired of him. All his carefree and mischief nature, his sweet and generous manner - you couldn’t even if you tried.

Few people populate the modern gym, near to none in the cardio section as Jaemin refreshes your memory on all the buttons before you begin. Beside you, he does sporadic sprints, no heavy breaths clouding his chatter with you. You, on the other hand, keep it relatively reserved for your first time, upping the speed when you want to challenge yourself, surprising yourself with the distance and time that flies by. Soon enough, Jaemin’s squeezing your hand and moving a few rows back where the rowing machines are, leaving you with your walking playlist.

Again, in a flash, time passes by, upbeat songs blaring in your headphones that make you dance through the next fifteen minutes, a simmer of sadness coming when you’ve reached time with a whole host of songs still in the queue.

“You can listen to them next time,” Jaemin winks before leading you into a dark, LED room dotted with mirrors and yoga mats. This is one of the rooms booked for classes, but for now, it’s your stretching area where you cycle through some stretches and Jaemin jokes about folding you like a pretzel.

The one other person in the room - a woman in her thirties - coughs, before smirking your way, the heat of your embarrassment migrating to your cheeks as you swat at Jaemin. He simply laughs, stretching to reveal his happy trail and suddenly, you forget why you’re even mad.

When you’re finished, he shows you different sections - an assortment of cable machines, the weights area and then to an area with more machines. There’s a few people occupying the machines, immersed in their own world with flushed cheeks and sweat seeping into their clothes. It fills you with relief, that no one’s focused on you and your sweating figure as if you had ‘gym newbie’ written across your forehead. Jaemin shows you some of the machines he uses, depending on what he wants to work out but for the most part, lets you decide what machines you’d want to use - if any.

“Why do I need to put on muscle? You putting me in a headlock is good enough.” You fake-complain, feeding off the gentle approach Jaemin’s taken in trying to convert you to a gym rat.

“And you say I’m the dirty one,” he tsks with a matching grin. “You don’t need to do anything. All I’m doing is showing you the options you have. The more things you try, the more likely you’ll find something you lik-”

“Is that the slut machine?”

Jaemin’s head jerks back, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What are you talking about?’

“This one,” you approach the machine closeby, pointing to the photo attached along with its actual name - hip adduction. “Isn’t this the one where people like, open their legs like crazy?”

Jaemin shakes his head, amusement in the smile he swipes with his hand. “Yes, it is. Wanna give it a go?”

“Hell yeah,” you climb into the machine in a rush, finding the experience more exciting than scary as Jaemin makes sure everything is in order. “This is gonna be hilarious.”

“I’m setting it to a low weight. If it’s too easy, we’ll move it upwards and try and find your range,” he comments, looking at you through his silver hair. “You ready?”

“Ready,” and you go, the weight moving like nothing, so much so that when it sets back to its original position, you’re more caught off guard by how far apart your legs are spread. “This is so raunchy, ohmygod.”

“Good thing it’s facing the wall,” Jaemin laughs at you shielding in between your legs. He ups the weight, the number looking a lot scarier than anticipated. “Let’s try this then. You should be able to rep 10 of these.”

You shuffle, a bit unconvinced. Taking a breath, you engage the machine, exerting more effort than before but managing to do one rep. Then two, then three all the way up to ten. Enough to challenge you, but not strain you.

Jaemin howls, pinching your cheek as he says, “Look at you go! That was great.”

“Thank you,” you huff, the tingle in your thighs somehow the source of the happiness in your chest. “That was really fun, actually.”

“Isn’t it?” Jaemin smiles, using some paper towel to wipe after the machine for you. “Usually people do about three sets of those. Reps depend on what you want to do - build endurance, muscle strength, all that. But that was really great, I’m so proud of you.”

And you feel proud of yourself too. Having tried something new, feeling unsure but leaning into the feeling. Letting yourself see how far you can extend yourself, pleasantly surprised with the distance.

So, this was what Jaemin was on about.

You continue your morning like this, getting a personalised tutoring session in how certain machines works and what areas they work out. Jaemin runs through his leg day, since you two were on the hip adduction machine, enjoying more exercises like leg press and goblet squats. By the time you get to the hip thrust machine to try, someone’s occupying it. Jaemin suggests using the squat rack, the scary thing with a long barbell and weights attached to it. Sensing your apprehension, Jaemin lets you know he’s got you, coaching you through the exercise and any queries you may have about movement or positioning. Eventually, it’s your turn to lean against the incline bench and despite your fear, you work your way through 8 hip thrusts. You don’t nearly enjoy it as much as people online talk about it, which Jaemin says,

“That’s perfectly fine. There’s so many exercises that work the same areas. You’ll find one you prefer.”

Finished for your session, Jaemin asks for you to hold tight while he does some deadlifts. It’s maddening watching him pick up such heavy weights, concentration knitting his eyebrows together with his exposed arms flexing under the tension. Wearing a sleeveless top for the gym in theory is great, but for your mental health? Bad, so bad.

Because even if your body rings with exhaustion, the kind that’s refreshing and ensures a peaceful slumber, you’re about ready to jump his bone.

Ill with lust, as you’d joke.

Jaemin snickers, snapping his waist belt off with one hand, which shouldn’t be sexy but is. Your eyes then trail to the barbell, the memory of Jaemin’s set vivid in your mind.

“Did you wanna try it?” Jaemin asks, reading your mind. “We can start off with no weights. Just the barbell. There’s also different variations of a deadlift, let’s see which one you prefer.”

Out of the three, you pick the most conventional one to start with, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Particularly after Jaemin loads weights on each end when you've rehearsed with the barbell.

“Think of the barbell cutting your feet in half - not standing too close so that your shins are touching it and not too far away that you have to lean to grab it,” Jaemin coaches, your feet shuffling into the right position. “Nice. Let’s move onto the hinge movement,”

From behind you, his hands settle onto your hips, pulling them back with him. He pats them, a chuckle left in his wake as he steps to your side to demonstrate without overly being horny.

Bastard.

“Like you just did, you’ve gotta hinge your hips backwards until you can’t hinge anymore. Then, you’ll move a little into your knees, like a squat almost so you can grab the barbell,” you follow along, the barbell cold against your hands as you blow a breath.

“Great. Keep your body tense, engage your core and glutes. No arch,” his hand hovers over the arch of your back, something teasing in his smile. “Show your chest, keep your head up straight and lift the barbell up. Remember to keep it close to your body before you lower it down with the same hinge movement and movement into your knees.”

You puff out another breath, the same fear you’ve conquered throughout the session whirring in your chest.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Jaemin smiles, moving behind you again with hovered hands around your figure. “I’ve got you. You’ve got you.”

Again, his words dawn on you. All the power in your hands, a feeling your heart wants nothing more than to run towards as you lift up the barbell, strength personified as you wait at the top of your stance, smiling at the “Let’s fucking go, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, angel!” in your ear. You hinge backwards, the weight knocked down to the floor with no tension on your back as expected.

Once you’re upright again, Jaemin engulfs you in a backhug, lifting your figure off the floor and kissing your neck, drawing giggles out of you. Joy moves through your body like warm light at his excitement that exceeds your own, belief not setting in quite yet.

“I can’t believe you,” he coos, the mirror ahead of you capturing the embrace he holds you in, the elation in his eyes as he does nothing but adore you. Like he’s always done. “Actually, I can. You’ve got a laundry list of things you’re good at. Can you believe it?”

“Not originally,” you admit, the confession somewhat bittersweet. “But after this, I think I’d better have more faith in myself.”

Fondness finds itself in his lips again, a kiss against your cheek as he gently guides you out the way, lifting the barbell onto the rack with his gaze in the mirror directed to yours.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

And you fall into laughter, helping him slid off the weights before flexing in the mirror like you wanted, finding a different strength in yourself with Jaemin by your side.

#nct dream fic #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #na jaemin #nct dream fics #na jaemin x reader #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #na jaemin fluff #na jaemin imagines #na jaemin x you #jaemin fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin x you #nct jaemin x reader #sungiescheotluv fics ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱

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punkshort · 5 months ago

Text

Swept Away | Chapter 7: Making Waves

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel receives some exciting news, meanwhile you're having one of the worst nights of your life.

Chapter Warnings: language, sugar daddy/baby dynamics, alcohol and food consumption, jealousy, sexual tension, flirting, physical violence against reader (not Joel), verbal abuse towards reader, blood/bruising related to an injury, feral Joel came to play, anxiety, insecurities, possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex

WC: 10K (yikes)

Series Masterlist

Everything was the same it always was, but somehow also different.

Admittedly, the morning following the art gallery you awoke terrified Joel would ice you out again. You stayed in bed as long as you could, texting Celine just to avoid the inevitable heartbreak, but much to your surprise you heard a knock on your door around ten in the morning.

"Hey," Joel peeked his head into your room and you dropped your phone to your mattress. "You okay? You don't usually sleep this late."

"Yeah," you replied, voice still thick with sleep so you cleared your throat. "Just, uh, taking it easy and..." you trailed off and dropped your gaze to the floor.

"Avoidin' me?"

Your eyes snapped up just to find him leaning against your doorframe with his arms crossed and a teasing smirk on his face.

"Maybe," you whispered, plucking nervously at your comforter. He pushed off the wall and walked over to your side of the bed, then reached out to tame some of the hair around your ear.

"Gonna give me a taste and take it away, that it?"

Your cheeks felt hot and the butterflies in your stomach stirred to life, but you managed to shake your head and hold his gaze. "N-no. I just thought you might've regretted it again."

He sighed and he stopped playing with your hair so he could cup your cheek. "I never regretted it," he told you softly, then leaned down to press a tender kiss against your lips. "Not then and not now," he added before pulling away, leaving you breathless. "Now c'mon, your breakfast is gettin' cold," he said when he turned to walk out of your room.

And that was all that was ever said on the subject.

Now, a handful of days later, everything was business as usual. You still slept in your separate rooms and you went to restaurants together but the air around you was different. It felt charged whenever you were together. A lingering glance here, a gentle touch there reminded you something had definitely changed. Something that went unlabeled and unspoken and you didn't dare try. As much as you wished to take things further and try to get Joel to open up more, you refrained because you could sense he was growing impatient with Glenn and you didn't want to sour his mood even more.

He was running out of time and Joel told you he needed to step things up. So far, Glenn had avoided talking much business and spent most of the time just getting to know everyone better. Joel never pushed him. He saw how Glenn reacted when Zachary or Harry tried to bring up business and it wasn't good, so he bided his time and waited. But now he was feeling the pressure.

"Can't just spend an entire fuckin' month here for nothin'," he grumbled one afternoon as he paced around the hotel. You watched him from your spot on the sofa, still clad in your bikini from spending time by the pool that morning.

You chewed your lip nervously, his anxious energy transferring to you. "How important is it that you win?"

His eyes flickered over to yours and scoffed. "Real fuckin' important. If I get this spot, The Parador would become a household name. The revenue stream from this spot alone would be higher than all my other hotels combined. It would open up a whole new world of opportunities for my business."

Joel rolled his shoulder like he was trying to work out a tight muscle and you pursed your lips. Maybe you just hadn't given it much thought, but it sounded like a much bigger deal than you originally imagined.

"It's about exclusivity," Joel continued, "there's only so much space on this island. Only the best of the best build here, and the world fuckin' knows it. It's why they want to travel to this particular island - they want to experience a level of comfort and luxury they've never known before in the most beautiful place in the world."

"Well, did he say when he was going to make a decision?"

"Said by the end of the trip but no one's even had a chance to give 'em their sales pitch yet," he said, raking his fingers through his hair.

"Maybe he doesn't need the sales pitch," you said, picking up your phone. He stopped pacing and eyed you up.

"What'dya mean?"

You let your phone hang limply in your hand and you looked back up at him.

"Well, he knows what you're all about. He knows what kind of hotels all of you run and how successful you are. He doesn't care what your vision is or what will make your hotel different. But what he does care about is this island."

Joel frowned and slowly sunk into the couch opposite you.

"What else?"

Your lips turned downward and shrugged. "He cares about this island and its people. He wants to make sure the person he picks for this land will respect it and the people who live here. I mean, think about it. Guy could live anywhere but he built a huge mansion right here. His kids live here. His daughter is dedicating her career to helping local artists find success. He loves it here, Joel. He just wants someone who will love it back."

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable until he abruptly stood and in two long strides, closed the distance between you. He grabbed the sides of your head and pulled you up for a deep kiss, the suddenness of it stopping you from responding right away. Just when your brain caught up and your lips began to massage his, he pulled away with a huge smile.

"You're so fuckin' smart, y'know that? Jesus Christ, why didn't I see that?"

You grinned, trying to hide the pleased look on your face by shaking your head and turning away.

"What can I say? I have my moments," you shrugged when you sat back down on the couch. "Guess you got more than you bargained for with me," you added with a laugh.

"Oh, I knew that already," Joel said with a wink. Your cheeks warmed and you looked down at your phone with a stupid smile stretched across your face. It was moments like those when you heard the voice inside your head scream at you to ask the obvious question: what did you mean to him?

He kissed you like you were his girlfriend, but he never invited you into his bedroom. He had said he wanted more, but had yet to try. Was he waiting for you to make a move? You had been practically throwing yourself at him for the past week, there was no way you were going to do that again.

Joel had dialed someone who worked for him, completely oblivious to the confusion swirling around in your head. Instead, he was excitedly conveying the breakthrough you had about Glenn to the man on the other end and began to talk strategy. Already feeling bored, you decided to get up and go take a shower so you were ready for dinner, but as you were walking back towards your bedroom, you heard Joel say quietly into his phone, "No, I didn't even think of it. My girl did."

My girl.

Oh, you could get used to that.

"Aren't you bored as hell when Joel runs off to hang with the guys?" Zoe asked over dinner. Ironically, you had picked the same restaurant as Lynne and Tammy, who also invited Ian, for dinner. You didn't know Ian very well but from the look of it, he seemed to be caught in the middle. He tossed a few glances your way and gave you each friendly smiles, but Lynne and Tammy ignored you completely. However, based on their body language, you had a strong feeling they were most definitely talking about the two of you.

"Sometimes," you admitted. You shot the waiter a smile when he placed two drinks on the table. You each quickly grabbed them, clinking your glasses together before taking a long sip.

"Well, only one more week and then you'll have him all to yourself again, lucky girl," she said with a flirty wink. You thought you responded but you couldn't be sure because she had unexpectedly knocked you sideways. One more week? Christ, where did the time go? And what would happen between you and Joel when you got back home? Would he really just pay you and disappear from your life forever? The thought made you sick to your stomach and you had to put your drink down.

"You okay?" Zoe asked, furrowing her brows. "You look a little queasy."

"No, I'm fine," you said quickly, waving her off. "Just hungry."

"Sure you're not pregnant?" she teased. You laughed and pointed to your drink.

"Would be a little irresponsible of me, wouldn't it?"

You were so grateful for Zoe. She was a safe place when you were feeling lonely or insecure and it made you sad you wouldn't be able to keep in touch once the trip was over. How could you? If you did, she would eventually figure out you were hired, just like she was, to accompany Joel to the island.

Maybe it was the two devastating reality checks in a row but you had a hard time snapping out of your funk. You tried, you really did, but you couldn't stop thinking about losing Joel and Zoe so soon. It didn't help matters when she got a text from Zachary telling her the night with Glenn on his boat was going long and not to bother staying up.

She sighed with relief and flicked her hair over her shoulder before glancing around the dining room, murmuring to you about how she could use a night off while you just stared down at your phone, waiting for a similar text from Joel.

Nothing.

My girl.

You took a deep breath, trying to tamp down the insecurity, but it was hard. It was so fucking hard. Why was it always so difficult with Joel? Why did it always feel like whenever you took one step forward, you take two steps back? Did he even like you? You thought he did, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe he was just treating you like a sugar baby this whole time and you stupidly thought -

Your phone buzzed on the table and when you saw Joel's name pop up, relief instantly swept through you and all your nagging self-doubt faded away.

Going to be late, sweetheart. I'm sorry but I got a good feeling - finally getting somewhere with Glenn

You smiled, despite not being able to see him the rest of the night, he thought enough to text you and he called you sweetheart.

Right when you were about to reply, he texted you again.

I'll make it up to you ;)

You must have looked flustered because Zoe cleared her throat and quirked an eyebrow at you when you finally tore your eyes away from your phone.

"Do you have something to share with the class?"

You shook your head and tried to hide your smile behind your hand but failed. Still, Zoe peered curiously across the table and read Joel's last text upside down. She gave you a jealous pout and sat back in her chair.

"Not fair. You're so lucky," she sighed. "I think once Zachary and I are done, I'm going to quit."

"What?!" you quietly exclaimed. She nodded and shrugged.

"I'm done with it. It was fun, I got to travel a lot, have nice things and meet cool people but I need to think about my future, you know? And there's, like, a zero percent fucking chance I'll meet the love of my life being a sugar baby."

You nodded, struggling to figure out what to do with a sharp pang in your chest. Was it so impossible to think anything serious could come from a relationship with a sugar daddy? Luckily, Zoe continued.

"I look at you guys and I'm just reminded of what I could have, y'know? All I want is a guy who looks at me the way Joel looks at you."

Jesus Christ, Zoe was shaking you up and she didn't even know it.

"H-how does he look at me?"

Zoe rolled her eyes at you before saying, "C'mon, you know. He can't keep his eyes off you. He's so fucking into you, it's sick."

You laughed at that, a sharp little bark of disbelief, but then quickly corrected yourself. You had to change the subject, your emotions were splintering and you were desperate to talk about something lighter, but before you did, you sent Joel a text.

Can't wait ;)

Shoving your phone back into your purse, you turned your attention back to Zoe, frowning when you saw the sour look on her face as she finished her drink.

"What?"

She leaned across the table and lowered her voice. "Don't turn around but Trevor and Brooks are at the bar."

Your stomach twisted into knots and you took another drink, grateful to see your food arriving if just for the distraction alone.

"Wonder why they aren't on the boat with everyone else," you mumbled before stabbing a piece of pasta with your fork.

"I heard Brooks didn't want to go and Glenn sent Trevor to keep an eye on him," Zoe told you mischievously.

"How the hell do you hear all this gossip?" you asked after you wiped the shocked look off your face. Zoe giggled and swallowed a bite of her salmon.

"I get bored, I eavesdrop."

"Damn, either Joel doesn't hear this stuff or he doesn't care because the only phone calls I hear from him are work calls," you said before offering her a bite of your dish. She eagerly accepted and gave you some salmon in return. "Wonder why Glenn thought Brooks needed a babysitter," you said after another moment.

Zoe put her fork down and gave you a look that told you she knew way more than she should, so you mimicked her and set your fork down as well to give her your full attention.

"I don't think Glenn and Mary trust Brooks to carry on the business once he retires," Zoe said, glancing once over your shoulder at the bar. "I don't know why but that night at Glenn's house, I went to the bathroom and overheard Mary telling Brooks this is your last chance, or something like that."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and slowly leaned back in your seat. So it wasn't just you who thought something was off about him. Then Joel's comment about drug use slipped back into your brain and you were about to tell her but you decided to bite your tongue at the last minute. You trusted Zoe, but you didn't want to betray Joel. So instead, you kept your mouth shut and played dumb.

"That's... crazy," you said, fumbling for words. It didn't seem to bother Zoe because she just nodded and picked up her fork.

"I know, right? Kind of humbling to know Glenn and Mary don't have the perfect little family we all thought."

When the waiter approached, you assumed he was coming to check on your food, but instead he held in his hand a bottle of champagne. "From Mr. Miller with his sincerest apologies," the waiter had said, making you blush when Zoe gave you an incredulous look. As sweet as it was, you really hoped that's not what he meant by 'making it up to you'. After the champagne was poured and the waiter left, placing the bottle on ice first, she pretended to stab your arm with her fork.

"What the hell, girl? Maybe I need to get a front desk job for some billionaire so I can find my own Joel."

You giggled and took a sip from your glass, the bubbles popping on your tongue. It could have been a three hundred dollar bottle of champagne or a ten dollar bottle, it didn't matter to you. The mere fact Joel figured out where you went for dinner and sent something over was astounding to you and you prayed you were reading the signals right.

"I should thank him," you said, pulling your phone back out to send him a quick text.

You didn't need to do that, but thank you :)

In less than a minute, you got your reply.

No need to thank me, baby - enjoy and I'll see you tomorrow

"Looks like your man's little gift caught someone's eye," Zoe said with a grin. You followed her gaze to Tammy and Lynne's table, catching the nasty look they were sending your way before they turned around and you giggled into your palm.

"She's still pissed with me because I almost pulled all her hair out at the art gallery the other night."

Zoe's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?!"

You laughed and stood up from the table, dropping your napkin on your chair before grabbing your purse. "I'll tell you all about it after I use the restroom."

She made a pained squeak, disgruntled you were leaving her hanging, but you just grinned and stepped away.

"You better be quick!" she shouted after you. Fuck, you were really going to miss hanging out with her.

Despite the looming conclusion to your trip, you were feeling pretty good. At least, in that moment, things felt like they were going well with Joel and you were having a nice time at dinner, even though Tammy had just been staring daggers at you.

The one thing you somehow managed to forget about was Brooks, who unfortunately exited the men's bathroom just as you were searching for the women's room.

"Well, look who it is," Brooks said when he spotted you. You tried to give him a polite smile but you weren't sure you succeeded.

"Oh, hi," was all you said when you tried to squeeze past him. Right as you passed, his hand shot out to grab your arm and you swiveled around.

"You ladies having a nice time?" he asked with a toothy smile. His dark eyes bored into you and if you looked close enough, you could see his pupils were like pinpricks. Then his hand casually swiped against his nostrils and you figured out what he had just been doing in the bathroom.

"Yeah, thanks. This place is nice," you said, taking a subtle step backwards before hooking your thumb over your shoulder. "Excuse me," you added, and before he could say anything else you turned on your heel and headed for the women's room a few feet away, relaxing once you heard the door swing closed behind you.

After you used the bathroom and washed your hands, you were fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror, your thoughts back on Joel, mind wandering to what exactly he meant by I'll make it up to you later when the door flung open. You hardly had a chance to process what was happening until Brooks locked the door and turned on you, sending a hot jolt of fear through your entire body.

"Listen, I'm gonna be straight up with you," he said, pinching the tip of his nose. His eyes looked a little red in the bright lighting of the bathroom and you could see beads of sweat collecting at his temples. You tried to create more room but your back was already pressed against the sink: you had nowhere to go.

"I know what your deal is," he told you, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "I know you're only into that old fuck for his money but I can promise you, I'm about to have double what he's got."

You blinked slowly, struggling to keep your breathing even. Your entire body was rigid, muscles tense and straining under your skin, and your heart was pounding so loudly, you could feel it in your ears. How could he possibly know?

"W-what?" you stammered. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Brooks's arm darted up from his side to grip the back of your hair too roughly, making you cry out in surprise and grab onto his forearm.

"C'mon, don't play games with me. I know a gold digger when I see one. And that's perfectly fucking fine. I don't care! Mad respect. What I'm trying to tell you is I could give you so much more than him," Brooks told you, taking a step closer so his hips pinned you against the sink. You whimpered and tugged at his wrist but he wouldn't budge. "I got more money and live in fucking paradise, baby," he said, trying to sound seductive as he leaned forward and tugged your earlobe between his teeth, making you recoil in disgust.

"Get off me!" you shouted, shoving him backwards as hard as you could. It worked. He let go of the back of your head when he stumbled away, but unfortunately it only served to piss him off.

"Are you fucking serious?" he seethed, expression turning stormy as he closed the distance between you and grabbed the back of your neck so suddenly, you were too stunned to react. "Do you even realize what I'm offering you, here?"

"I don't care," you said, scratching frantically at the back of his hand, body writhing as you tried to escape. Your engagement ring caught on his skin, tearing it and making him hiss. "I don't want anything to do with you! Get the fuck away from me!" You tried to push him again but he was ready for it that time. He grabbed your wrists with one big hand and yanked your head backwards so your back was arched over the sink. Your eyes filled with tears as you squirmed and tried to wiggle out of his grasp to no avail.

"Dumb bitch," he snarled. "You could have someone younger with more money. Thousands of women would jump at this chance but you're too fucking stupid, huh?"

Amidst the tears, anger ripped through you and without even thinking twice, you twisted around in his grasp to sink your teeth into his hand. Brooks inhaled sharply and cursed under his breath, dropping your wrists but keeping a firm hold on the back of your neck. You shoved at him again, over and over, trying your hardest to loosen his grip so you could make a run for it, but you just weren't strong enough. And maybe it was the drugs coursing through his veins or his ego took too big of a hit, but you didn't anticipate what happened next:

He let you go.

At first, you thought someone had stepped in, but when your panicked eyes darted around the room, you found you were still alone. The sudden freedom made you hesitate and it probably wouldn't have made a difference anyway, but later you would wonder if maybe you had reacted faster, it would have saved you alot of hurt and pain.

"Stop fucking shoving me, I'm trying to change your miserable little life," he growled, lunging forward to push your chest with all his might. His strength sent you flying backwards but you managed to catch yourself before you hit the back of your head on the porcelain of the sink. As a result, you twisted around and smacked your mouth on the edge of the vanity. Pain instantly bloomed under your lips and you feebly cupped your mouth, whimpering in agony as blood began to trickle through your fingers.

"Look what you did!" Brooks roared, and by now you could hear Trevor's voice in the hallway. Tears streamed down your cheeks, mixing with the blood and dripping onto the white tile floor. You sobbed into your hands and tried to hide under the sink because at that point, you had no idea what he was capable of doing.

You had squeezed your eyes shut and braced for the impact of a fist or a foot but thankfully, none came. Had you the courage to open your eyes, you would have seen him come to the sobering realization of what he just did when he saw your blood on the floor. He swiped his hand anxiously over his mouth, eyes darting around the room while you cowered in fear, and slowly backed away towards the door.

"Brooks! Open the goddamn door!" Trevor's voice came from the hallway, his tone quiet to avoid any attention but still laced with anger. He did as his brother asked, shakily undoing the lock and brushing past him, and Trevor glanced into the room before the door shut. His eyes widened and his jaw fell open when he saw the state you were in and rushed inside.

"Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry," he murmured, crouching down next to you. "What can I do? T-tell me what to do!"

"Get ... Zoe," you choked out between sobs. He nodded and backed away slowly, still unable to believe what he was seeing before he rushed down the hallway.

Zoe sprung into action the moment she saw you in the bathroom and you had never felt so grateful for anyone in your life. She got you out of there before anyone could see and ushered you quickly into the waiting car by the curb. It wouldn't be until later that you discovered it was Trevor who ordered the car on standby while Zoe was doing her best to clean you up before getting you out of there. She must have been rattled because her hands were shaking but you never would have known it by the way she spoke and took control.

By the time you got back to the hotel, the sun had set and the lobby was relatively empty. You kept your tear soaked face tilted towards the floor with a napkin pressed against your mouth to stem the bleeding as Zoe led you to the elevators. Once you were in the safety and privacy of your room, you released a haggard sob that was a mix of relief and frustration.

"Let's get you to the bathroom," she said, taking you by the shoulders after kicking both your shoes off in the foyer.

While you were having a decidedly terrible fucking evening, Joel had been having the exact opposite experience on Glenn's boat. Somewhere tucked inside your purse, which was abandoned on the dining room table next to a handful of bloody tissues, your phone lit up with a text from Joel:

Heading back now - hope you're still up bc Glenn pulled me aside 10 min ago and told me he's giving me the fucking land! We gotta celebrate baby

It was late. You never answered his text so he assumed you were in bed, but fuck... maybe he should wake you up.

He got the fucking land.

Glenn didn't announce it yet, but he planned to soon. Joel finally felt like he could relax and maybe enjoy what little time you had left together. He tried not to think too hard about that last part and just focused on the present, like following through with his promise to you.

As he swiped his card through the reader, he smirked to himself, thinking of all the ways he could make things up to you, then froze when he walked into the foyer and saw an unfamiliar pair of high heels by the door. His gaze traveled up and saw all the lights were still on.

That was unusual.

He took a few tentative steps inside, expecting to maybe see you and Zoe by the pool or in the living room, but he was wrong. And it was way too quiet.

He called out your name as he ventured further into the room and then two things happened at once: right as Zoe emerged from the bathroom with a shaken look on her face, Joel saw the pile of bloody tissues next to your purse on the table.

Something was wrong.

His eyes darted up to Zoe's and she held up her hands, palms out, before shakily saying, "There was an accident-"

"Where is she?" he asked. He could feel his throat closing up and his chest beginning to squeeze tight. Fuck, it was hard to breathe.

"She's okay, but she's got a busted lip and -"

Joel tore past Zoe in the blink of an eye, noticing the light on underneath your closed bathroom door. He knocked urgently, saying, "It's me, open up," but you didn't answer. He could feel the anxiety taking hold and flooding his veins with adrenaline. His hands trembled when he knocked again.

"She's a little shook up," Zoe explained from behind him. He dragged his palms nervously over his face and turned to her.

"What happened?"

Zoe opened and closed her mouth, unsure how to answer. "I only got a little bit out of her, but she was attacked in the women's room at the restaurant."

"Attacked?" Joel repeated incredulously. It was so much worse than he thought.

Zoe nodded right when the bathroom door clicked unlocked. You opened it a crack and went back to curl up in the empty spa bath with the pillow and blanket Zoe had brought for you from the living room.

"I can't get her to go lay down in your bedroom," Zoe explained before Joel nodded and pushed the door open. The first thing he saw was the counter filled with bloodied white washcloths and tissues, the sight more than a little horrifying but when he saw your reflection in the mirror, he swiveled around with a jolt.

"Jesus Christ," he whispered, then rushed to the edge of the tub and fell to his knees. He reached out to cup your face; your puffy, swollen, bruised up face.

His eyes never stopped moving. They darted everywhere, taking in every single detail, but mostly lingering on your split lower lip and the bright purple bruise blooming below your eye. His thumb traced gently over your cheek and he felt a sharp twist in his chest when you winced.

"What happened?" he asked you softly.

You sniffled and shook your head but he pinched your chin and made you look him directly in the eye.

"Baby, what happened?" he asked again, "Someone attacked you? Did you call the cops?"

Again, you shook your head then glanced at Zoe over his shoulder.

"Just tell him, babe," she said encouragingly. You sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

"Promise me you won't get mad," you began, voice thick and gravelly from crying. Joel pinched his eyebrows together and dropped his hand from your chin.

"I ain't gonna be mad at you, sweetheart," he whispered. You watched him swallow and you took a deep breath.

"Brooks cornered me," you finally admitted, tears stinging your tired eyes. "He followed me into the bathroom and locked the door. He - he said some nasty fucking shit and got mad when I told him to leave."

Joel's nostrils flared, his eyes scorching with rage.

"But I pushed him, Joel. I pushed him and so he pushed me back and then I fell into the sink and -"

"Why'd you push him, honey?" he asked, trying to sound calm but you could hear the anger simmering below the surface.

"Because... he kept grabbing me and wouldn't let go. Like, around my neck and hair. He wanted-"

"I know what he wanted," Joel said darkly, pushing himself up to stand then turned to acknowledge Zoe. "Can you stay with her for an hour?"

Zoe nodded and your eyes went wide.

"Joel-"

"It's alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna take care of it."

He stormed out of the bathroom, fists clenched at his sides, trying desperately to contain his anger but his face felt hot and his jaw already ached from how hard he was grinding his teeth.

You scrambled out of the tub, knocking your knee painfully against the porcelain, and raced after him. "Joel! You can't!"

"I'll be back in an hour," was all he said before snatching his wallet from the table and disappearing out into the hall.

"It'll be okay," Zoe said, appearing at your side to rub your back. "Why don't we try to put ice on your lip again?"

You wiped at your nose with the back of your hand and nodded, allowing her to refresh the washcloth with ice and getting you settled on the couch before stepping away to call Zachary to let him know where she was. She had clicked the button on the fireplace remote before she stepped outside to make her call so you stared blankly into the flames while praying Joel didn't do something incredibly stupid.

Joel was gone more than an hour. Zoe sat with you underneath a shared blanket while you watched some mindless television show and iced your face. The bleeding stopped long ago but the pain was beginning to set in, so she got you some ibuprofen and forced you to drink extra water, assuring you it would help.

By the time Joel finally returned, your eyes were beginning to droop but when you heard the door click open, you got a sudden burst of energy.

Sitting up straight and tugging the blanket around your knees, you craned your neck around, waiting for him to appear. He stepped in from the foyer a little disheveled but otherwise seemed fine, but when he locked eyes with you, you knew something happened.

"Thanks, Zoe. I'm sure Zach's worried 'bout you."

His voice was deep and commanding, eyes never leaving yours. She immediately stood, giving you one more hug and whispering in your ear to call if you needed anything, then gathered her things to leave.

You remained planted on the couch, unable to tear your eyes away from the look on Joel's face. When the front door clicked shut, signifying you were finally alone, his shoulders visibly sagged then he marched over to the couch.

Without a word, he scooped you up in his arms, blanket and all, and took you down the hall towards your bedroom. Now that you were closer, you could see some red marks on his cheek and neck, but you didn't have much time to dwell on it because to your surprise, Joel turned left instead of right, taking you into his room.

You hardly were ever in his room. The door was always closed when you walked by and your memory was hazy but you remembered it was bigger and he had his own bathroom attached. He carefully set you down on his bed, the side that remained untouched, before disappearing into his bathroom. You took a second to look around the now well lived in room. All around you were pieces of Joel: reading glasses, crumpled pieces of paper and a chapstick on his nightstand, a phone charger dangling from the wall next to his bed, a few articles of clothing were scattered around along with discarded shoes. If it didn't hurt to smile, you would have because you finally learned something new about Joel Miller: he was messy.

"Did you disinfect it?" Joel asked when he stepped back into the room with a wet towel. You slowly shook your head. You and Zoe had been more concerned about stopping the bleeding and then worried about damage to your teeth to really think about disinfectant.

He nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed, then beckoned you to come forward. You scooted closer and stretched out your neck, giving him better access to your face. He dabbed carefully at your lip, his eyes stormy while he still fought with the remnants of his adrenaline. When your eyes met, his gaze softened and he slowly dropped his hand to his lap.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, the emotion in his voice bewildering you.

"It's not your fault," you countered, but he shook his head and dropped his chin to his chest.

"Shoulda been there. Been leavin' you alone too much -"

"That's okay, Joel. That's why we're here, right? You need to do whatever it takes to get that land."

His heart sank and he closed his eyes. You obviously still hadn't checked your phone but he didn't bother telling you the news, anyway, because after what he just did to Brooks, he was certain that land was no longer his.

"You oughta get some rest, darlin'," he said softly while standing to head back into his bathroom. He dropped the washcloth into the tub, glancing briefly at his knuckles now that he had stepped out of the darkness of his bedroom. He did a piss poor job cleaning them up but he didn't care. He was exhausted and just wanted to go to bed.

When he came back into the bedroom, he frowned when he saw you with your hand on the doorknob.

"What're you doin'?"

You turned back to him and when he saw your face again, it felt like all the air got knocked out of him.

It's a miracle Joel didn't kill him.

"I'm... going back to my room," you replied, your voice so small and weak that it broke his heart. He shook his head and pointed back to the bed, right where you were sitting.

"Stay," he said, then softened his voice and added, "please."

Your hand dropped to your side immediately and you looked around. "My pajamas-"

"I'll get 'em," he said, pointing to the bed again. "Rest," he told you when he walked across the room, taking you gently by the shoulders and guiding you towards his bed. You did as you were told while he hurried across the hall for your clothes, then stopped at your bathroom for your toothbrush before returning and shutting the door.

You thanked him softly and disappeared into his bathroom to wash up. Joel nervously paced around his room, tossing his dirty clothes into an ever growing pile near the closet before tugging on a white tshirt and slipping into bed.

Shyly, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing a loose fitting cotton tank top and matching shorts. You looked at him and he ushered you forward in the darkness, so you flicked off the bathroom light and scurried into bed.

He couldn't stop himself. He immediately rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you close, breathing in deep the scent of your shampoo and mint from his toothpaste.

You hummed happily and turned onto your side so his chest pressed against your back. The warmth of his arms surrounding you made you finally feel safe and at peace. But then your hand fell to rest on top of his and you froze, your eyes flying open in the pitch black room.

"Joel?"

"Hm?"

Your thumb gently brushed over the broken skin on his knuckles, then you sought out his other hand to do the same and your heart stopped.

"What did you do?" you whispered with a tremor to your voice.

He swallowed thickly and buried his face in the back of your neck before responding.

"What I had to."

You had a fitful night's sleep. If you weren't dreaming about a dark pair of eyes screaming horrible things at you in a bathroom, then you were dreaming about the aftermath of whatever Joel did to Brooks. Best case scenario, Glenn doesn't choose Joel to purchase the land. Worst case scenario, he gets arrested in the morning.

Both options fucking sucked.

If you were lucky, you got three hours of sleep. You laid in Joel's arms, listening to him softly snore behind you while the sky turned from pitch black to a deep, angry blue through the glass French doors that lead out to the pool.

Everything hurt, but the thing that hurt the most was your heart. You tried, you really did, but Brooks's words got to you. They festered under your skin, burrowed deep down and gnawed away at you until they found a permeant spot in your chest.

Nothing helped. A day ago you would have been thrilled to find yourself in Joel's bed, but as you laid there, all you could hear was gold digger, dumb bitch, look what you did!

Your mind had a vice grip on those words and it made you sick.

You wiggled in Joel's grasp, deciding there was no use in lying there if all you were going to do was work yourself up, but his grip tightened around you protectively and pulled you into his chest. You sighed and shifted around a bit more when his sleep filled voice startled you.

"Quit squirmin'."

You stilled and lifted your chin up. "I can't sleep, I was trying to get up without waking you."

"You ain't goin' anywhere," he grumbled, and for the first time since dinner, you felt the corner of your mouth tug into a careful smile. "Why can't you sleep? You hurtin'?"

You swallowed and dropped your gaze to his hands, which were pressed firm against your stomach. Now that the room was lighter, you could see the extent of the damage and it made you cringe.

"No," you whispered, only partially lying before closing your eyes so you wouldn't look at his knuckles any longer. "Can't stop thinking about -"

You cut yourself off but Joel knew what you were going to say. He sighed and pressed a kiss against your shoulder, surprising you despite the intimate position you had found yourself in all night.

He could feel how tense your muscles were so he gave your shoulder another kiss, but that time he let his lips linger a bit longer than was necessary. He smirked a little when he saw goosebumps flare across your skin, so he did it again.

"My poor girl," he whispered, his voice dropping to sound more seductive. "I'm so sorry you went through all this, baby. You don't deserve it," he added sweetly before brushing his lips over your shoulder and up the back of your neck. His exhale tickled you behind the ear and you felt yourself melt into his hold.

You boldly took one of his hands and dragged it up from where it rested against your stomach to lay flat between your breasts, letting him feel the way your heart raced, all for him.

His breath hitched in his throat, unable to resist brushing his palm experimentally over your hardening nipple, your thin top not providing much of a barrier. Instinctively, your back arched ever so slightly. Your ass pressed into his hips, causing him to groan, so you did it again.

"Christ," he murmured, tightening his grip, fingertips dimpling the soft flesh above your breast. "What're you doin', sweetheart?"

You only whimpered a little when you rolled your hips into him again to feel his erection pressing firmly against your ass. His responding growl sent a shiver down your spine and had your head tilting back so his mouth could suck on a spot behind your ear.

"Joel, please," you breathed. He made a little noise of disapproval in the back of his throat but that didn't stop him from biting gently at your neck.

"Don't think it's a good idea," he murmured into your hair, but the throb of his cock pressed against you said otherwise. "You've been through so much, you need your rest. You gotta heal, honey."

You whined impatiently and twisted around in his arms so you could finally see him. His hair was a mess but his eyes were bright and his skin had a pink tint, giving away his aroused state, as if you didn't already know.

"Please," you begged softly, brushing your lips carefully against his. Your hand slid up to rake through the matted hair on the back of his head while you nipped eagerly at his lower lip. "Please make it feel better, Joel."

His eyelids fluttered for a moment as he felt himself losing the battle. With a deep groan, he rolled over to pin you underneath him. He made a mistake when his instincts took over and he pressed his lips firmly against yours and you whimpered painfully. He immediately drew back and inspected your wounded lip for further injury, guilt flashing in his eyes.

"It's okay, I'm okay," you whispered, pulling him back down but tilting your chin up so he could kiss your neck, instead. You felt his muscles relax, his movements slowing and growing more tender, but kept his hips pressed against your core as a reminder of how hard you made him. "I'm okay," you whispered again, sliding your eyes closed with a soft moan while his mouth dragged up and down the column of your throat and his hand roamed freely underneath the hem of your shirt.

With hardly any effort at all, he lifted your tank above your head and tossed it onto the floor. His mouth immediately latched onto one breast while his hand played with the other. Between his tongue and fingers working steadily over your nipples, it took no time at all before you were a puddle underneath him.

"So beautiful," he murmured into your skin. His hand trailed down your side to play with the drawstring of your shorts, giving you another chance to ask him to stop, but instead you followed his lead and dipped your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. He inhaled sharply against your chest when you wrapped your fist around his cock for the first time and had to remind himself to be gentle when he heard you gasp at his size.

"Y'sure, baby?" he rasped, unable to stop his hips from thrusting lightly into your hand while you stroked him up and down.

"Mhmm," you mumbled, voice getting lost somewhere in your throat. You had never wanted someone as badly as you wanted him. It felt like he was everywhere. His scent, his hands, the pressure of his weight on top of you... you had never been more sure about anything in your life.

You hoped he didn't notice the nervous tremble in your hands when you pushed his boxers down his legs but after he tore off his shirt, he shakily fumbled with your own shorts and you had to hold back the smile that threatened to stretch across your broken lip. Was he nervous, too?

He sat back to drink you all in when you were finally bare before him, his eyes hungrily roaming over your soft curves, making you forget about every little imperfection you ever obsessed over. You only had a moment to admire his broad, tanned chest and thick biceps before he fell back onto his elbows to cage you in.

Your pulse thrummed fast under his gaze, the skin at your jugular twitching with each nervous beat of your heart.

"Wish I could kiss you," he admitted, eyes darting down to your lip.

"Me, too," you murmured before reaching down between your bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his thick length and you spread your legs wider to accommodate him. You guided him to your center, eyes never leaving his, before releasing his cock to wrap your arms around his ribs instead.

"Keep your eyes on me, okay?" he asked, voice a little broken at the request. You nodded and held your breath when you felt his tip breach your entrance. Of course, when his hips shifted to slide halfway inside, your eyes fluttered closed and your arms fell to grab at the sheets, the stretch taking your breath away.

"Baby, c'mon," he begged, nipping at your jaw. With a gasp, your eyes flew open to find his and nodded, wordlessly telling him to continue. One of his hands reached for your wrist and pinned it into the bedding next to your head. His fingers spread wide and found yours, lacing your hands together when he pushed in the rest of the way with a soft grunt.

"O-oh, fuck," you panted, struggling for air as you wiggled your hips, your cunt feeling like it was stretched to the limit. Joel watched you squirm underneath him and he couldn't help the way his chest swelled with pride.

"Yeah, you like that, baby? That feel good?" he muttered, cock throbbing inside you. You nodded, lips parted and eyes glassy, fingers flexing around his. Your fingertips brushed over his now scabbed over knuckles and a wave of your slick soaked his cock, turned on by the physical evidence of what he did to defend you.

And he noticed.

He noticed the way your eyelids drooped and your jaw went slack when you felt his knuckles again. Joel drew his hips back before slowly pushing his way back in, giving you his cock nice and slow.

"Could've killed him," he told you. Your eyes snapped open wide, looking up at him all soft and doe eyed. "Could've killed him for touching you, y'know that?"

You whimpered and wrapped your legs around his waist. Then your bruised, swollen lower lip trembled and his gaze darted down. Very carefully, he grazed his lips over your wound, both of you breathing in deeply as his hips pulled back and rocked into you once again. The stretch was intense, the feeling of him filling you up so perfectly overwhelming your senses.

You murmured his name and nuzzled your nose against his face, growing frustrated you couldn't kiss him. Once he set a slow, yet steady, rhythm, he pulled your hand up above your head, pushing it deep into the pillows, fingers tightening around yours as he plunged inside of you over and over. You could sense his frustration, too, by the way your jaws hung open, hovering over the other, breathing sharp gasps and pants into each other's mouths each time his hips snapped into you, knocking the air from your lungs.

"Wish I could taste you," you whispered against his open mouth. His brows pinched together, your confession rattling him for a second. "Want to know how your cock feels on my tongue. Wonder how much I can take," you continued, enjoying the way he was reacting way too much. Unconsciously, his hips picked up the pace, fucking into you a little harder and pushing you up into the pillows. His face contorted as if he were in pain and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Can't say shit like that," he groaned, letting his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. "Gonna make me come. You feel too good, fuck," he whimpered. "Shoulda been fuckin' you since we got here."

You smirked, as much as your lips would allow, anyway, before replying.

"Better make up for lost time, then."

His teeth sunk into the skin stretching across your collarbone and you moaned, slipping your fingers through his curls with your free hand. You held him there against your neck and shoulder, sighing at the trail of licks and kisses he left on your skin while his cock continued to mold a path inside you, your cunt squeezing around him with every sharp thrust.

"Shit, that's my girl," he rasped, tongue flicking out lazily to lick at your sweaty skin. "Takin' everythin' I give you. This pretty pussy just needed my cock, hm? Needed me to make it all better?"

My girl.

Stars exploded behind your eyes when you squeezed them shut, his filth hitting you like a goddamn freight train.

"Yes!" you cried out, tipping your head back into the pillow and tightening your hold on his hand. "Yes, Joel, fuck - feels so good. S-so deep. It's so much," you whined while he sucked another mark into the soft flesh above your left breast.

He soothed you with a reassuring hum before unlocking one of your legs from his waist and hooking it over his shoulder. You gasped, the sharp angle making it feel far more intense than before, dragging you closer and closer to your climax.

"Oh, my god!" you cried out when the tip of his cock nudged against a spot inside you that had your legs shaking and your vision blurring. Joel reared back, your hand falling limply from his hair, so he could fuck you harder. He huffed and panted for air, staring down at you with his jaw clenched tight and sweat trailing down the sides of his face.

The noises you were making should have embarrassed you but you didn't care, especially since Joel appeared to enjoy them so much. You gazed up at him, gasping for air every time his hips slammed into yours. You probably looked like a mess but he didn't seem to mind at all.

"Good?" was all he managed to grunt, entirely fixated on making you come.

"Yes," you whined, "please don't stop. Christ, Joel, I -"

You cut yourself off with a low moan, the relentless pace he set bringing you to the brink of an orgasm so intense, tears were already filling your eyes. He felt your muscles tensing when your breath started to come in jagged little gasps and he quickly cupped your face to tilt it up towards him, eager to watch you fall apart again, but this time promised to be much more satisfying.

With a deep growl, he ground his hips into you, rubbing the coarse hairs that curled at the base of his cock against your clit, soaking up your arousal with each pass.

Your mouth fell open and your face crumpled when you came, a litany of curses spilling from your lips while Joel continued to drag against your clit, drawing out your orgasm as long as possible while he actively fought back his own.

"Fuck, that's pretty," he grunted, still holding your face in his massive hand while the last waves washed over you. You nuzzled blindly into his palm, his other hand still holding yours so tightly, his knuckles began to slowly trickle fresh blood. "So goddamn pretty f'me, baby," he added, voice growing strained. His gaze dropped to where you were connected, watching how your slick had spread all over his cock and stomach, then flicked his eyes back up to you.

"I'm gonna come," he whimpered, cheeks puffing, sweat soaked hair sticking to his forehead, and brown eyes fixed on the now relaxed expression on your face. "Are you - can I -"

"Yes," you said quickly, "yes, Joel. God, yes, please come inside me, please," you pleaded. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when he came, your begging being the last push he needed to fall over the edge with a loud groan.

You watched in a trance, memorizing the look of ecstasy on his face, the little ungh followed by a low hiss each time he thrusted forward, shooting his spend deep inside your used cunt until his arms shook and he finally let go of your hand, leg falling from his shoulder.

"Fuck," he gasped, each of you fighting for air while you waited for your hearts to stop racing. His hands gently braced your hips before he slipped out of your wet clutch, his cock still half hard and covered with your combined release. You made a little noise at the loss, at the sudden feeling of emptiness, but he quickly fell to your side and pulled your back against his chest, soothing you with soft strokes against your hip as you worked through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"Think you can go to sleep now?" he asked, his voice hoarse and muffled from his face burrowing into your back.

"Yeah," you sighed, wiggling in his hold until you were comfortable. His seed was still dripping out of you but the last thing you wanted to do was clean it up. You wanted to feel him there for as long as possible, even though you knew the ache in your hips would serve as a constant reminder for the next day or two, at least.

"Good," he grumbled as if he were annoyed, but you could feel his lips curving into a smile against your skin.

The last thing you remembered before falling asleep were the little bright red dots that stained his knuckles on the hand that was connected to the arm wedged underneath you, holding you safe and sound.

"French fries for breakfast?" you asked him, shooting Joel a look of surprise. He shrugged and popped another one in his mouth before patting the bed next to him.

"They're my weakness."

You giggled and practically jumped back into bed, your hair dripping from your shower and the soft, white robe caressing your still highly sensitive skin.

"Do you share?" you asked him with a suggestive tone in your voice. He quirked an eyebrow at you before feeding you a fry.

"Food? Yes."

You chewed and hummed as you leaned into his shoulder, eyes drifting to the television. You furrowed your brow as you tried to figure out the movie, but his hand around your shoulder distracted you when he tugged on the soft cotton.

"Women? No," he added before dipping his other hand past the collar, cupping your breast still concealed by the robe. You inhaled sharply, your spine automatically twisting to cater to him, to give him easier access to your body like it was its only function. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck as he pushed you down into the mattress, movie long forgotten. When he began to suck on your neck, your lips still off limits, you groaned and gave his shoulder a playful shove.

"Look at how many marks you already left on me," you pouted, tugging open your robe with one hand so he could see.

He pulled back so he could admire his handiwork before giving you a sly grin.

"Good," he said before resuming his work on your throat. And if you didn't fucking love it so much, you might have protested a bit more but instead, you craned your neck to give him better access. You sighed and felt your body relax under him, cunt already softening and preparing to take him again when your gaze fell on the clock beside his bed.

"Oh, shit! Joel! It's almost ten!" you exclaimed, tapping on his shoulder to snap him out of his lust filled haze.

"So?"

"So?" you repeated incredulously. "What about work?"

"What 'bout it?" he mumbled, hips digging into the apex of your thighs.

"Don't you have a company to run?"

Joel scoffed against your neck and finally pulled away. He pressed his weight into his forearms, which bracketed your head, and kissed the tip of your nose.

"I'm the boss. Think I can do what I want."

He was skipping work for you? Your heart practically leapt out of your chest and into the palm of his hand. You had to fight back the huge smile that pulled at your face for fear of reopening the cut on your lip, but the way your face went hot and your eyes shyly dropped from his was enough to show how happy you were.

He grinned and leaned back down to graze his teeth along your jaw. As far as either of you were concerned, nothing could touch you in the safety of his room. In your minds, the repercussions of the day before were a problem for another time.

"Well, what do you want to do, then?" you teased, gasping when you felt his already hard cock nudge against the inside of your thigh.

"You," he answered gruffly, then as fast as lightening, his hand flicked open your robe to expose yourself to him.

"Christ, you're perfect," he groaned before descending on your nipple, his teeth pinching at the sensitive bud ever so slightly while you whimpered and writhed under him.

His phone vibrated in the sheets next to you, but he ignored it.

"Joel," you breathed, blinking fast to clear your hazy vision. "Joel, your phone."

He groaned and begrudgingly released your breast but remained on top of you as he fished around for his phone.

"Gotta tell Jeff to fuck off, then -"

He paused as he stared at the screen, the blood draining from his face.

Fear shot through you and you scrambled to sit up.

"What is it?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he reread whatever popped up on his screen before dragging his eyes away to look at you.

"It's Glenn. He's in the lobby."

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us au #swept away fic #joel miller smut

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taeghi · 8 months ago

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wrong number | TEASER

FULL RELEASE : Read here

𓇼 pairing : roommate's best friend!jake x reader

𓇼 summary : a mistaken text might not always be a bad mistake.

𓇼 genre : smut, sexting, nudes. angst, degrading, lots of talk ab being stretched out lmao.

𓇼 wc : probs over 10k

𓇼 taglist???

mdni

your roommate, sunghoon, had just said goodnight to you as you both headed off to your separate bedrooms for the night. there had been a long awaited movie night for the both of you and somehow both of you had managed to stay up so late, that both of you were going to be exhausted for university tomorrow.

as soon as your head touches your pillow and your blanket pulls up to your chin, your phone vibrates from your nightstand. you sigh, wanting to ignore the notification, but the curiosity of who was texting you after midnight intrigued you so much that you just had to reach over and look.

unknown : [image.jpg] [12:46]

instantly your jaw drops as you realize what the image was. this was the last thing you had expected from an unknown number.

in the picture, was obviously a man’s hand covering his apparent large bulge in his black boxers. you could see the tan skin of his defined abs in the light glow of the room he was in. the picture showed up to his neck, his face being cut off. you wondered briefly if his face would have distracted you more than his bulge.

unknown : [i told you i was good at taking pics, vera ;)] [12:47]

vera? you had no idea who vera was but you were definitely not her and this picture was definitely not for you. after debating on what to do about this mistaken text, another one rolled in. unknown : [what? cat got your tongue now?] [12:50]

you sigh but decide to answer, your thumbs moving briskly across the keyboard of your phone. sleep completely leaving your mind now as your eyes keep glancing up at the stranger’s picture.

you : [hey, uh, this isn’t vera? so sorry] [12:50]

it only took a second after pressing send for the stranger’s texting bubble to pop up, indicating that he was typing. your nervously sat up in bed, brushing your hair out of your face.

unknown : [oh my god i’m so sorry] [12:50] unknown : [my idiot friend gave me this number saying it was this girl vera im so sorry] [12:51]

you chuckle to yourself at his texts, feeling his obvious stress through the screen. his excessive apologies were relaxing you, knowing this wouldn’t have to be more awkward than it was. until,

unknown : [but you must’ve thought i was good at taking pics too, i mean you stared at the pic for so long ;) ] [12:52]

you had no idea who this was but he was so cocky. but he was so right. you couldn’t take your eyes off of his picture for more than a minute. the angle it was taken at teased you to want to see more of his body. it felt wrong since the picture was obviously not meant for you. but how could you not look at a picture that made him look this good. still, you cursed yourself for having read receipts on.

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

mdni

#jake #enhypen #smut #enhypen smut #jake smut #jake enhypen #jake enhypen smut #jake x reader #jake x yn #jake enhypen x reader #kpop #kpop smut #enha #hard hours #enhypen hard hours

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stone-stars · 2 years ago

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Full thread from Sam on the SAG strike and Dropout!

[ID: A thread from Sam on twitter, as follows: "A thread about the strike and Dropout production: 👇✊. I stand in complete and utter solidarity with our striking performers. I myself am SAG-AFTRA, as are others on our executive team, having come from the world of working actors. I am nothing but sympathetic to their cause and outraged by the mafia-like behavior of the major streamers and AMPTP. It is harder than ever to make a living in this industry, and that goes even for the lucky few of us who get to work on meaningful projects.

In the meanwhile… 🤑 Uber-rich CEOs and shareholders are cashing in like never before 💸 Major streamers are gambling millions on dubious projects and business models 🍾 Hollywood is hiding profits and playing the victim while drinking champagne aboard their superyachts

Dropout production is right now on hold. Because we aren't associated with the AMPTP, it's possible we may be able to reach an interim agreement with SAG that allows us to continue to produce content during the strike.

But we'll only do that, obviously, if we get the blessing of the union and the buy-in of our performers. If not, we have enough content in the can to last us a little past the end of the year.

I pride myself in that Dropout has always paid above SAG minimums. As the years go on and the company is healthier, we will strive to do even better, and then even better still. Without the talent of our performers, we are zilch. Zero. Nothing."

Attached is an instagram post from an actor reading: "The Netflix show in question is shorter than a traditional half hour. But @ collegehumor and @ dropouttv paid me MORE than that for one of their scripted series. Dropout was a brand new online platform at the time and they still managed to pay their actors more than NETFLIX for scripted short form content."

Thread continues: "Public companies don't do this for the very simple reason that they feel more indebted to their executives and shareholders than they do their workforce. It's why corporations are so often exploitative. Our industry, because our jobs are so desirable, is especially vulnerable to exploitation. Hollywood takes advantage of that by making us feel generally commoditized, cheap, and replaceable …which is ironic given just how personal our work so often is. That's why unions - and the power of collective bargaining - is so important: because public companies often won't pay their workforce any more than they're forced to.

As for me, I intend to honor my union's position that I not promote SAG productions as a performer -- even if they are produced by me. That means that I won't personally be promoting any of our shows for the time being.

Attached is a screenshot of Sam on Discord responding to the question "given the strike… what picket line chant will you be rockin'?" with "i'm a talent / CEO! me says me has got to go!"

Thread continues: "This year, instead of running a FYC campaign for Game Changer, we donated $10k to the Entertainment Community Fund in solidarity with the WGA. Today, in solidarity with SAG-AFTRA, I'm personally matching that donation with another $10,000. If you have any disposable income, I encourage you to donate as well: https://entertainmentcommunity.org. And as soon as I test negative for COVID, I'll see you on the picket line. ✊"]

#dropout #dimension 20

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praisethegabs · 1 year ago

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HATE THAT I LOVE YOU

leon kennedy x f!reader

synopsis: Leon can't stand seeing you around him. You know how much he hates you and you like having fun with it. Things get worse when the two of you get lost during one mission, with no comms to call for help. Leon blames you for everything, until he revels something he shouldn't.

warnings: ENEMIES TO LOVERS. descriptions of injuries, reader taking care of leon, comfort, fake marriage, descriptions of nudity, leon drunk and and reader teasing him. small reference to call of duty characters as part of reader backstory.

word count: 10k +

a/n: heavily inspired by "death of me" by wizthemc. cover from laughingwallaby on x/twitter. it isn't necessary to listen to the song, but I highly recommend it.

"he’d set fire to the world around him but never let a flame touch her" senlinyu

Leon Kennedy hates you more than anything else in this world.

He hated the fact he was obligated to be your partner, hated the reckless way you always managed to finish a mission practically intact, and hated the way you always succeeded in something, no matter what it was. He hates you entirely, even your perfume is enough to get him on his nerves.

He hates you ten times more because he knows you know he hates you, and you seem like you don't care about it at all.

It all started three years ago, when he discovered he would be your new partner. Your name was pretty famous, and so were you. Not that he envies your success, but he never thought he would be under the shadow of someone like you. At first, Leon was very impressed with your skills and the way you work, but two weeks later, he started to despise you, and this feeling turned into hatred.

You ain’t stupid, you can even feel all the hate he has towards you, and things get better because you have this masochist side of yours that makes you feel happy seeing how angry he can be at you.

Although you don’t care about the reasons he hates you, the thing is, you can’t deny how attractive Leon can be, and having him as your partner makes every other agent jealous of how lucky you are. It’s Agent Kennedy, the one and only. The guy who rescued the president's daughter and basically did other significant things for the government.

But, despite the Leon you know at work, his entire life is a blank page. You know absolutely nothing about him, and he doesn’t care about sharing his personal life details with someone he hates. You noticed a while ago that you are the only person Leon ignores and despises completely, and he avoids talking to you as much as he can, only when it is necessary. And when he opens that pretty mouth of his, it usually contains hateful words.

At this point, you just do your job the way you see fit and come back home safely, not caring about Leon’s arrogant ass.

“You could have killed us!” Leon snaps at you, his entire demeanor showing stress. He can’t avoid grabbing you by your arm and squeezing it tightly, which makes you groan.

“Well, golden boy, at least your ass is intact and here. I’d like to hear a nice ‘thank you’, how about it?” You smirk and tilt your head, and in response, his entire face turns red with anger.

“You’re so fucking immature. Do you think you’ll be lucky for the rest of your life?” He raised his voice, his hand on your arm getting tighter by the second. The expression on your lips didn’t make things easier. “One day, you won’t be that lucky, and you’ll probably drop dead somewhere. I won’t be there to pick up your pieces. Do you want to risk your life? Go ahead, I don’t fucking care, but don’t drag me into your bullshit again. I’m your partner, not your babysitter”

“I’m really surprised you consider me your partner, Kennedy,” you smirk again, and that smirk was enough to infuriate Leon more than he already was.

Leon was on the verge of yelling at you, but the cold expression that quickly went up on his face was enough to make your smirk disappear. You have never seen him like that, it was weird.

“Maybe I should change that,” he hissed with cold and dead eyes, finally letting go of your arm.

“Good luck with that, Kennedy,” you coo, crossing your arms over your chest as you speak.

After saying that, the smile you gave him was enough to make Leon livid. He wanted so badly to take that ironic smile off of your lips, he wished that right now you were a man, so he could definitely teach you a lesson you wouldn’t forget so soon. However, you are the same annoying opposite gender that he hates so much. So, instead of beating the living shit out of you, he just watched you leave, turning in the opposite direction to calm himself down before he did something stupid.

The last mission was very simple: locate and terminate a bioweapon. As you two went there to find the said bioweapon, the entire area was drowning in chaos. The area was isolated to prevent the bioweapon from running away, and alongside you and Leon, there was the entire squad ready to follow your lead.

It should be simple, right? Here's the part where Leon thinks you're completely reckless. Instead of following the standard protocol, you thought it would be best to use yourself as bait and literally explode the entire block. Your stupid plan really worked, and the bioweapon died in the explosion; luckily, you were left with a few scratches and a bleeding ear — which the doctor said wasn't something serious, although you would be “deaf” for a few days from your right side.

So, when you got home, the first thing you actually did was take a nap, which turned out to be deeper than you expected. You slept for twelve hours with your phone in airplane mode so that no one could disturb your sleep. The only thing you weren't counting on was waking up to the distant sounds of someone practically wanting to take your door down. Wearing your cat pajamas, your hair a complete mess, and your face swollen after so many hours sleeping, the last person you thought you would see was Leon.

And he was right there.

“Do you know I’m out of the clock at the moment, right?” you asked him, with a big yawn seconds later. His face wasn't one of the most friendly you've seen.

“Yeah? Do you think I’m here because I want it?” Leon rolls his eyes, sounding annoyed and bored.

“Well, golden boy, if you’re here to yell at me about what happened earlier, I suggest you wait until tomorrow. I’m definitely not in the mood for you,” you said, already closing the door, when Leon suddenly stopped you. “I always thought you were a weirdo, now I’m sure of it. What do you want?”

“Get ready for our new assignment. And try to dress in something more... elegant.” Leon gave you the file from the next mission. Surprised, you started to read the file, and out of nowhere, you started to laugh in disbelief.

“Recently married couple on their honeymoon? Is this some kind of sick joke?” You glanced at him, still laughing nervously at your new disguise with him.

“Trust me, I asked the same question, and unfortunately, that's our new disguise. So, get your ass ready. We’ll be leaving in three hours, Ms. Kennedy,” he said with his Stoic and cold expression as always, giving you a ring made of white gold, which made you think how expensive it was.

“I’m pretty sure our agency wouldn’t give us this type of accessory,” you said to him, taking a good look at the ring he gave you. White gold, with a beautiful sapphire and diamonds carved around the blue stone.

“Don’t be late,” Leon said, ignoring your last commentary. “I’ll be waiting at the airport”

Leon left without looking at your confused expression. You had to read the file at least three times until you finally understood the mission. Leon and you were going to pose as a recently married couple enjoying their honeymoon as you two investigate a famous billionaire that made its own wealth by selling bioweapons in the market. You sighed with the sudden stress, walking towards your room to prepare your bag. After finishing your bag, you caught yourself glancing again at the ring. You were sure the agency wouldn’t give this ring to Leon for a fake marriage. It was something else, but what?

So, one hour later, you drove to the airport. At least this time, you weren’t late, and Leon wouldn’t be making a scene over it. You found him distracted, wearing sunglasses with his leather jacket, his hair shining in the sunlight. Leon seemed very focused on the book he was reading, and it was a big surprise to see him like that, especially because you knew nothing about him.

“So, dear husband, are you ready to go?” you ask, seeing him put his book aside. He looked very beautiful with those sunglasses.

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded, his voice sounding calm instead of the coldness you were used to. You noticed he was wearing his own wedding ring.

“Will you tell me where these came from?” You started to walk next to him, referring yourself to the ring he gave you, hoping it would be a real answer.

“Why do you care? It’s just a ring,” Leon replied, avoiding the subject as much as he could.

“I don’t think it’s just a ring. It has some marks on it, like it was used before.” The egocentric smile on your lips made Leon take a deep breath.

“It was from my mother, okay? It’s the last thing I had from her and my dad before they died. Satisfied?” Leon harshly replied to you, and you knew you had screwed up. You didn’t know about his family, and the way he replied made you realize it was a hard subject.

“I’m sorry, Leon. I didn’t know,” you hissed, feeling your entire face burn with shame.

“Like you care,” he replied in a cold tone, walking away from you towards the airport.

The rest of the flight was absolute silence. Leon didn’t speak with you and had no intention to do so. You felt terrible, but you decided not to show him any feelings; the guy literally hated you, and showing how you felt was the last thing he would believe. So, thinking about all the years of free hate, you decided it was for the best to pretend you didn’t care.

Naturally, pretending that everything was fine was one of your best qualities. You were so good at hiding your own feelings that no one could read you or decipher your emotions.

At the hotel, hours later, you were ready to follow Leon and finish the job. Deep down, you were expecting his coldness and his famous Stoic expression, along with his grumpy humor. However, you were caught off guard when he suddenly took your bags and smiled at you. He was, indeed, a full mystery.

“C’mon, darling. I’ll take your bags for you.” When he said that, you noticed the “recently married couple” game was on. You glance at him and smile broadly, then kiss his cheek.

“Oh, babe, you’re so sweet to me. Thank you,” you said, giving him your bag and walking in front of him like you were some kind of model. Two people could play this game, right?

After the check-in, you two walked between fake laughs until you reached the master bedroom. Leon could pay, and so could you, but you decided to let him play along since it was his mission, and you were just his annoying partner.

“Such a cliché… having one bed,” you sighed at the sight of the master bed in the center of the room.

“We’re married, it should look like that.” Leon rolled his eyes, leaving your bag close to the bed as he analyzed the entire room.

“No, we’re not married. We’re pretending to be,” you said, sitting on the edge of the bed and smirking ironically at him. “And besides, why me? You said you wanted to leave. You could have asked for any other agent”

“Who said I didn't ask?” Leon replied with the same ironic smirk on his lips, sitting on the armchair in front of you.

“And what did they say?” Suddenly, you sounded more upset than your usual sarcastic demeanor. You hope Leon didn’t notice.

“Unfortunately, they can’t give me another partner. Guess I’m stuck with you for God knows how long” He sounded annoyed for a moment, but you chose to ignore it completely.

You decided you needed a bath. You took a few clothes from your bag and decided to “play” with him. Not only that, but you removed your clothes in front of him, sensually, trying to get some reaction from him. When you glanced at Leon, he was hard.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and you noticed he was breathing heavily. Now he was nervous, and it wasn't anger.

“We are married. I guess this is what wives do in front of their husbands.” You wink at him, making your way to the bathroom wearing nothing but your lingerie.

Leon was completely speechless. You could see him swallowing harder, his Adam’s apple going up and down faster. The devilish smile on your lips didn’t make things easier for him, either. It took a lot of strength from him to look anywhere else but you. Leon was clearly uncomfortable and nervous.

“You know, if you want this mission to succeed, you must pretend you don’t hate me. And for that, you need to trust me, Kennedy. I know you despise my methods, and I know you’re anxious to get rid of me, and honestly, I don’t really give a shit about your teenage behavior,” you said from the bathroom, wrapping your now naked body around a white towel and opening the door again so you could see him. “So, I promise I’ll try my best to not screw everything up. Just try not to act like the asshole you are usually whenever you’re with me”

“Oh, I’m the asshole now.” Leon finally seemed to wake up from his own trance, and his expression suddenly changed from Stoic to aggressive. "You've acted like a complete jerk since the first day we started to work together, and according to you, I’m the asshole here? You should look at yourself in the mirror, sweetheart”

“Then why did you stay here with me this entire time? You could have split a long time ago, golden boy,” you say, crossing your arms in your chest, not intimidated by his behavior.

“I told you. They won’t put me with another agent. I’m stuck with you, and trust me, I wish I could have left a very long time ago,” Leon replied coldly, his blue eyes almost icy with the way he was staring at you.

But instead of your silence, you caught him off guard.

“I know you’re lying. If you snap your fingers, they will do everything you want. You just have to ask, since you’re their golden boy. They freaking love you, Kennedy, and there’s nothing they wouldn't do to please you. Don’t bullshit me,” you said, walking slowly towards him and hissing, your eyes shining with sarcasm.

But Leon didn’t give you an answer. Instead, he took his leather jacket and left the room without saying something. You decided to calm yourself down and go straight for a bath, enjoying the candles and their arousal. After what seemed to be a long time in the tub, you left the tub and wrapped the towel around your body; the room was still empty, and you couldn't care less about Leon. If he wanted to act like a pampered kid, that was his problem, not yours.

You enjoyed the time alone to do your skin care routine, and decided to take care of your own body as well. It was almost eight when the phone inside your room started to ring.

“Ms. Kennedy, I’m sorry to interrupt, but your husband seems to be causing quite a scene in the hotel bar. I might have to ask you to pick him up; otherwise, I’ll have to ask security to take care of him,” the person on the other side says to you, and immediately, you sighed.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, I’ll go get him right now. Thank you,” you said, forcing the most sweet tone of voice you could at the moment.

You left the room thinking about ending Leon. He could definitely jeopardize the entire mission with his behavior, and this was unacceptable. When you found him in the bar, he was, indeed, causing a big scene. Leon was screaming and scaring the rest of the guests, and there were at least three security guards next to him.

“Leon, darling, come on. You've had enough,” you said, approaching him and touching his shoulder softly.

“Are you his wife?” one of the security guards asks you with a serious expression. You couldn’t blame the man, he was only doing his job.

“Yes, and I am really sorry for my husband. I guess he’s just too carried away…” you said with the calmest tone of voice you could, trying your best to hold him tight.

“Ma’am, you need to control him. He made a lot of mess in the bar.” The other looked severely at you, with an angry expression.

“I’m here, aren’t I? Don’t worry about the trouble, we can pay for the inconvenience,” you replied in a harsh tone. Suddenly, Leon threw up, and his vomit fell on the floor. “And we can pay for that too”

“Suck on that, fuckers!” Leon smiled before you dragged him back to your room.

In the silence of the hallway, Leon had a lot of difficulty walking properly. He was stumbling on his feet and saying incoherent things in your ear. You never saw him like that, and it was pretty weird being his babysitter. You wanted to kill him, but he couldn’t even stand, and possibly wouldn’t remember a thing the next day.

“I hate you,” you muttered, dragging him across the hallway towards your room.

“Why do you hate me?” Leon asks, his mouth smelling of alcohol and his words confused. “Am I not good enough?”

“Where is this coming from?” You raised both of your eyebrows in visible confusion. Finally, you reached the room and unlocked the door, dragging Leon into the bathroom.

“I tried… to be enough… I know I’m an asshole, but… I’m scared of being hurt again, and… I push people away from me… but you’re so different…” he says between drunken hiccups, which is almost funny, but completely unexpected. “I've liked you since the first time I saw you, and… and…” Leon throws up again in the toilet, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, before looking at you again. You were completely speechless.

“I think you need a bath,” you muttered, still shocked by his words. Your hands were shaking, and for a moment, you had no idea what you should do.

“No… I… I need to finish this because I don’t know when I’ll have the balls to do so again…” Leon grabs you tightly, not wanting to let go of you. Biting your lower lip, you nodded. “I know I said I hate you, but… but that’s not true. I only did that because… because I was scared and thought you would reject me… so I started to act like an asshole… I’m so sorry”

“It’s okay… I should be sorry too, I didn’t make things easier for you since day one” you said to him, sounding more kind than you usually are. He won’t remember this conversation, you are sure of it.

“I feel complete trash… I should’ve just… asked you instead of acting like an asshole…” Leon said this between other rounds of drunken hiccups. He’s pretty wasted.

And before this conversation could end in another way, you decided to give him a cold bath. You didn’t remove his clothes, and he complained a lot when he felt the cold water on him. After that, you had to change his clothes, and when Leon saw you touching him, he turned hard again, although he was too drunk to even be ashamed. You had trouble laying him on the bed, but he didn’t struggle against you.

“I love you,” he whispers before falling asleep.

The next morning, you decided to leave Leon alone for a while. You couldn’t explain to him what happened the night before because you were too shocked to say something. “I love you,” he said, and his words made a home in your head. How was that even possible?

Leon Kennedy, the guy who hated you with his entire being, said he loved you. He was drunk, and he probably didn’t mean any of those words. Maybe he was just playing a game with you, maybe that wasn’t true. However… drunk people tend to say things they usually wouldn’t say. So, there was a remote possibility that he was, indeed, telling the truth. How could you believe him?

“Fuck… what happened?” Leon asks you when he woke up, squeezing his eyes. He had a terrible headache.

“You got drunk last night and caused a lot of trouble in the bar,” you said, throwing at him a small, transparent bag with painkillers.

“Shit, I can’t remember anything. My head hurts like crazy.” Leon looks at you, and you can see the effects of the hangover on his face.

“Glad one of us has commitment to the job,” you said, sounding harsher than you wanted to be. Leon looks at you again, but completely confused this time.

“What did I say?” he asks, and then, as you can notice, he sounds more desperate. If it were at another time, you would definitely take advantage of it, but his words echoed in your head again.

“Nothing important. Just regular drunk stuff,” you say, shaking your shoulders, avoiding the subject that was hammering your head.

"Fine.” He nods his head and stands up, walking to the bathroom.

His words were floating in your head, and it was hard not to think about what happened the other night. At this point, you had no idea how you would finish the mission. Not with his words hammering in your head, penetrating your chest, and making you feel things you really don’t want to.

You hate Leon Kennedy and everything he made you feel.

He comes out of the bathroom, and he has a towel wrapped around his waist. The sight you had of him, all muscular, his body sculpted by the gods, walking like that in his own glory. It made your stomach twitch. You felt your face burning, and right now, you wanted to dissipate from the earth.

“We have a meeting in one hour.” You had to find a lot of strength inside you to not stare at his chest when you spoke to him.

“Can you go alone? I’m not really in perfect condition.” Leon sits on the bed, looking at you. He seems to not realize what’s happening. You, in response, shake your head.

“No, I can’t. Since we’re married, you need to come with me. It sucks, huh?” you replied with a cold smile, looking at him with dead eyes.

“Jesus, you’re really a pain in the ass,” he says in a deep breath, reaching for the painkillers.

You decided to ignore his commentary and get ready for the day. According to your new schedule, the man you two went to investigate would be in a meeting and then head to the restaurant. It was the perfect opportunity. You decided to wear a short black dress, making your thighs visible, and a V-neckline, showing a little of your breasts.

"Fuck” Leon mutters when he sees you, and you can notice he’s a little nervous. Maybe he’s starting to remember what he did last night.

“What?” you ask him, raising both of your eyebrows.

“I can’t find my phone,” he replies angrily, looking the entire room over to find his phone.

“It’s in the drawer.” You rolled your eyes, finishing with the makeup and your hair. Leon sighed in relief when he finally found his phone. “You’re welcome”

He took a few minutes until he finished getting ready. Leon was wearing a navy blue shirt, black shorts, and sunglasses, the same ones he was using at the airport. He was looking very beautiful, but you decided to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Ready?” he finally asks you, looking at you with some curiosity. You nodded, grabbing your purse and walking next to him outside the room.

The hotel’s restaurant was filled with the clinking of cutlery and the low murmur of conversations. Leon and you decided to sit across from each other at a small, intimate table, your gazes scanning the room for any sign of your target.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft jazz playing in the background provided a calming facade to the tension that lingered between them. Leon, with disheveled hair and a pair of sunglasses that only partially hid the evidence of a rough night, rubbed his temples and winced.

"Ugh, I think I might die. I can't believe you dragged me into this after last night. I swear, my head is splitting." he muttered, pretending to be reading the menu.

"This is a mission, Leon, not a vacation. You knew what you signed up for when you took that last shot. Now, pull yourself together. We need to find our guy, and your hangover isn't helping." you shot him a withering look, your eyes sharp beneath a cascade of your hair

"I just don't get why we couldn't have rescheduled this. I mean, who plans a stakeout the morning after an undercover party? It's like the universe is against me." Leon leaned back in his chair, wincing at the light filtering through the bistro's window.

"We don't have the luxury of rescheduling. This is our best chance to catch him off guard, and we can't afford any mistakes. Your lack of professionalism could jeopardize the entire mission. So, get over yourself and focus." You clenched your jaw, your frustration evident.

Leon sighed, realizing he had hit a nerve. He straightened up and took off his sunglasses, revealing bloodshot eyes.

"Fine, fine. I get it. No more complaints. Let's just eat and keep an eye out for our guy. Maybe the food will cure this hangover from hell." he said, waving his hand at the waitress.

"Good. We need to stay sharp. Our target is slippery, and we can't afford to miss any signs. Just remember, we're a married couple on a lunch date. Act natural." you nodded, your stern expression softening slightly.

As the minutes went by, the restaurant was an oasis of calm, its subdued lighting and plush furnishings a stark contrast to the pounding headache Leon was nursing.

Besides his mood and his complaints about the headache, you were the one who maintained a professional demeanor. However, your patience was wearing thin. The clinking of silverware and muted conversations formed a backdrop to your undercover mission.

"Can we make this quick? My head feels like it's about to split open." Leon winced, massaging his temples after minutes in silence.

"You brought this upon yourself, Leon. You can't let your personal life interfere with the mission. We have a job to do." You shot him a disapproving glance.

"I didn't expect last night to turn into a frat party. It was supposed to be a simple gathering." Leon sighed, regret etched on his face.

"Well, you should have thought about that before you started to behave like a pampered kid. But guess what, Kennedy? We can't change that now. We're on a timeline, and we can't afford mistakes. So, suck it up and focus." your eyes narrowed, your tone of voice sounding angry. I love you, his words, still echoing in the back of your head,

As he perused the menu, Leon's eyes flickered across the room, and he stiffened.

"There he is," he muttered, nodding discreetly toward your target who had just entered the restaurant.

"Perfect timing, Leon. Just what we needed." your gaze followed Leon's, and you cursed under your breath.

You two ordered quickly, your argument temporarily set aside as you two maintained the appearance of a normal, albeit slightly disgruntled, married couple. The target settled at a nearby table, engaged in conversation with an associate. As your food arrived, Leon's hangover-induced irritability resurfaced.

"Can we at least eat in peace before we tail him? I'm not in the mood for this undercover drama." he complains again.

"Your mood doesn't matter. We need to catch this guy. Finish your food quickly, and we'll tail him discreetly." you shot him a stern look.

Leon grumbled but complied, glancing over his shoulder at the target. The argument simmered beneath the surface, waiting for the opportune moment to erupt. As the two of you left the restaurant, the hangover weighed heavily on Leon, intensifying his annoyance. You kept your voice low as you two trailed the target through the hotel's corridors.

"Leon, I don't care about your hangover. We can argue later. Right now, we need to focus on the mission." you sharply told him in annoyance.

Leon shot back, his tone sharp, "Well, maybe if you were a bit more understanding, we wouldn't have to argue at all. This headache is killing me."

You shot him a pointed look but decided to let it go for the moment as you two approached the front desk to inquire about your room. The target was believed to be staying on one of the upper floors, and obviously, you two needed to gather information without raising suspicion. As you stepped into the elevator, Leon swayed slightly, earning a disapproving glance from you. The elevator doors closed, and Leon muttered:

"I'll be fine. Let's just get this over with."

The doors opened to a corridor adorned with plush carpeting and dimmed lights. You and Leon maintained their cover, acting the part of the honeymooning couple as you two made your way down the hall. Just as the both of you reached the door to the suspected target's room, a sudden chill crept up Leon's spine.

A group of imposing figures, undoubtedly the target's security detail, emerged from the elevator behind you. Your eyes widened as you discreetly tugged on Leon's arm, directing his attention to the unexpected threat.

"Leon, we've got company," you whispered urgently.

“Well, sweetheart, you won’t like this” Leon said, turning himself to you.

“What-”

Before you could even speak, you felt his lips crushing against yours. Something about his kiss made you feel something inside your chest. The taste of alcohol mixed with mint, the way his tongue danced inside your mouth, it was something you never felt and tasted before.

Leon tilted your chin upward, creating the perfect illusion of a stolen moment between two infatuated lovers. The security guards, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected display, hesitated in their approach. You felt him break the kiss, your eyes meeting with a shared understanding.

“That was close” he whispers, holding your hand as you two walk together in the corridor.

But you were left without any words. His kiss caught you completely off guard and for some stupid reason, you felt your legs were failing you. Something about the way Leon's lips pressed against yours sparked an internal conflict. His kiss was not one of disdain; it was fervent, almost desperate. In that moment, the line between pretense and reality blurred, and you found yourself torn between the mission and your own conflicting emotions.

As you walked in silence next to him, the tension between you two became palpable. Leon, ever the professional, maintained his stoic expression, his eyes scanning the horizon for any potential threats, even with the hangover state. You, on the other hand, couldn't shake off the unease that accompanied you every step. You stole a glance at Leon, his features carved in light of the hallway.

Suddenly, the tranquility of the night shattered as a series of sharp cracks pierced the air. Bullets whizzed past you two, sparking against the cobblestone streets. You and Leon instinctively dove behind the cover of a wall as the realization hit — you two were the targets now.

"Move!" Leon shouted over the chaos, grabbing your arm and propelling you forward.

The rhythmic staccato of gunfire followed you two, echoing through the maze of narrow alleys. The assailants were relentless, shadows in pursuit, fueled by an unseen vendetta. You two sprinted through the labyrinthine corridors, your breaths mingling with the desperate echoes of your footfalls. Leon's mind raced, analyzing escape routes and potential hiding spots. You, feeling your heart pounding, cast glances over your shoulder, your instincts sharp as you matched Leon's every move.

The honeymoon facade shattered as the two agents sprinted down the corridor, bullets whizzing past the two of you. Panic and urgency replaced the hangover-induced haze in Leon's mind. You two reached a stairwell, taking it two steps at a time, the footsteps drowned out by the chaos unfolding behind you.

As you two burst onto a lower floor, you spotted an emergency exit. Without hesitation, you burst through the door, finding yourselves in a garden. The adrenaline-fueled escape continued through the green labyrinthine surrounding the hotel, leaving the luxurious facade behind as you and Leon navigated the maze, chased by both the consequences of the cover being blown and the remnants of the security detail.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

Apparently, the said billionaire found out about the two of you, and now, Leon and you had to run somewhere else safe, leaving all your belongings in the hotel. There were gunshots everywhere, and you had to fight for your dear life, protecting you and Leon with a marble statue as a form of barricade to prevent being shot.

“This isn’t how I expected my honeymoon to be,” Leon muttered, shooting one of the security guards.

“This isn’t a honeymoon either,” you replied, firing your gun at the guard, killing him with a perfect headshot. “We are not even married”

“Well, this isn’t how I imagined it, anyway. We need to get out, Ms. Kennedy,” Leon said, offering his hand to you, which you took without thinking twice. You started to run, with Leon covering your back.

You could hear the security guards running after you, two more gunshots. Likewise, you ran for your life, not daring to look behind you, knowing Leon was right behind you, making sure you were protected, which was very odd, considering the history between the two of you.

At the moment, it's the last thing you're worried about. After a few minutes of running, you managed to escape the guards and find a place to hide. You were breathing heavily, and shaking.

“Are you okay?” Leon asks you, looking at the direction you two came from.

“Why do you care?” you simply replied, coughing a little as you tried to catch your breath.

“Do you think I don’t remember what I said last night? C’mon, I might be a drunk asshole, but I don’t forget things easily.” Leon glanced at you, which was more sympathetic than usual.

“This isn’t fair. You can’t say things like that after treating me like garbage for years,” you snapped at him, finally letting your feelings go without any shame. “You can’t say you love me, and the next day you can’t barely look at my face. You can’t say you love me when the only thing that comes from your mouth is hate and disgust. This isn’t fair, and you can’t play like that with me”

After saying that, you decided to walk yourself out and leave Leon alone. Who the hell did he think he was? He had no right to play with your feelings like that. You were so angry at him for throwing that on your shoulders with no responsibility.

Besides, you had important things to deal with, not his bullshit. Your hands were shaking like crazy, and you realized that you had no control over your feelings, and this was very dangerous, especially in your line of work. You needed to calm yourself down, and you needed to do it fast.

Hours later, everything was quiet. Leon was nowhere to be seen, because you didn’t notice when he went missing in the first place, and you couldn't care less about him. It was obviously a stupid idea to try to get back to the hotel, knowing it would be heavily secured after what happened earlier. But, somehow, you felt something very wrong.

The gunshot noises out there were exactly what you didn’t want to hear. You heard screams and loud voices, and immediately, your hand fell to your gun. You heard footsteps, and by the sound, you knew this person was supporting his body weight on his left leg, and was limping heavily. When you were about to attack, it was him.

“What the hell?” you gasped in shock, seeing him limping and, of course, injured.

“I tried to get our comms back” he whimpered almost quietly, as you helped him sit down. He was breathing heavily, his hand pressing tightly on his ribs. “But, as you can see, it didn’t go well.”

“And you say I'm reckless, right?” you muttered, trying to see the size of the damage on him, although he whined again. “You could've died in there, asshole”

“Now I understand why you do things this way,” Leon chuckles, but then he groans in pain, his grip on his ribs getting tight. “It’s way more fun”

“Fun? Are you out of your mind, Kennedy?” you snapped at him. If Leon wasn’t injured at the moment, you would definitely beat the living shit out of him. “I don’t do things like that for fun!”

“Keep your voice down, sweetheart. I don’t want to get back home inside a coffin,” Leon said, as he pressed his hand on your mouth to keep you quiet. In the sudden silence, you were able to hear more footsteps, and Leon kept pressing his hand on your mouth. A few minutes later, everything went silent again.

“I’m not… okay” he mutters, and his eyes meet yours. Blue like the ocean. And then, you finally see the blood spot on his shirt — the same spot he was trying to hide from you. “I’m sorry”

“I swear to God, if you dare to die on me, I’ll personally kill you, Kennedy,” you replied, and then you started to press his wound to prevent him from bleeding to a certain death.

But he smiled. It was a faint smile, but he was really smiling at you. You saw him raise his hand, and he touched your hair, moving the strands that fell on your face. The way he was looking at you, so sad and weak, it was like he was saying goodbye.

“You look so... beautiful.” His voice seems weak, and his breath starts to become more shallow. “I guess… this is what angels look like”

“C’mon, Leon, don’t you dare die on me,” you said as you noticed yourself getting more anxious by the second.

He smiled again and kept looking at you with those beautiful blue eyes. Slowly, he started to close his eyes, and his breath got more shallow, indicating he was losing consciousness. The more you tried to keep him awake, the more he seemed lost. You were slowly losing him.

“Condor One! Condor Two,” someone called you two. It was your squad.

“We’re here” you shouted at them, your hands filled with Leon’s blood as you waved at your squad. “He’s injured and losing a lot of blood”

“Don’t worry, we’re taking you two,” the leader said as the team approached you with medical equipment.

You couldn’t describe the stress you felt with everything that happened in the meantime. Did you two succeed in the mission? Was it over? You couldn’t know. Not until you were sure Leon was safe and sound.

From the helicopter, you could see the sirens, the local police, and the agents from the government. It was almost unbelievable, but it was true. The operation was a success, after all. You glanced at Leon. He was sleeping, or at least he seemed to be.

You tried to rest, but it seemed unreachable. Your body was electric, filled with constant energy that prevented you from closing your eyes. You wanted to sleep badly, but your concern about him was enough to keep you awake. When the helicopter finally landed at the hospital heliport, Leon was immediately taken into surgery. As for you, you had no other option but to wait.

Hours later, you had no news about him, and the anxiety was eating you alive from the inside. At this point, your body was less tense than before, and the first signs of stress and tiredness were finally showing up. You were sitting in a chair, in an empty white hallway, waiting. The hours seemed to slip through your fingers, slowly.

You sighted a kid playing with a purple teddy bear, and for a moment, you started to wonder about the life you led. The choices you made and how you ended up in your job. It was weird to think that while other people had normal lives, you had to risk yours every day, to make sure they would live in a safe world.

It sounded selfish to think like that, but you had every reason to do so since you couldn’t have a normal life. That word didn’t exist in your dictionary. Nor in your days.

Then, you see yourself playing with Leon’s mother's ring on your finger. For a brief moment, you imagined how your life would be if you were married and raising kids. Then, you push away these thoughts; motherhood isn’t your style, not even a married life.

“Ms. Kennedy?” you hear the doctor call you, and the sound of Leon’s surname addressed to you like you were his real wife makes your heart ache.

“Is he okay?” Your voice sounded more hoarse than you thought it would, a small consequence of being silent for so long. The look on the doctor’s face said there wasn’t good news.

“Your husband has lost a lot of blood, but we managed to stop the bleeding, and the surgery went well. Our main concern is with his brain injury…” The doctor pauses for a brief moment, wondering how to tell you the next news. “But, unfortunately, he’s in a coma.”

The news came at you like a violent wave. Suddenly, the world around you stopped, and you couldn't hear anything else. Your eyes were wide open, your chest was burning and aching, and for some stupid reason, you didn’t want to believe those words. How could Leon be in a coma? It was your thing to play reckless, he had no right to leave you like this.

You saw the doctor talking to you, but you couldn’t hear anything; everything around you was running slowly. What the hell was he saying? His lips moved slowly, just like the rest of the entire world, but you managed to understand: he was asking you if you were okay or if you needed something.

You felt like you were drowning, unable to reach the surface, surrounded by darkness. You wanted to scream and cry, but you couldn’t. You felt trapped by an invisible force, holding you tight and keeping you shut.

It was the sight of Chris that made you turn back to reality, and finally, the scream that was trapped in your throat came out from the core of your lungs.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Redfield said quickly as he held you before you fell to the ground. Your legs were shaking just like the rest of your body. “It’s okay”

“It was my fault, Chris.” Your voice was muffled by desperate chokes and sobs. “He’s in a coma, and it’s my fault”

“It’s not your fault, okay? It could’ve happened to you or him. Leon knows what he does, and I’m sure he did that to protect you" Chris tries his best to comfort you, although it seems impossible at the moment. He still holds you tight, for which you are very grateful, because you know you’ll fall if he lets you go.

Leon had no one in his life. You knew that the moment he told you about the ring. The “family” he had consisted of Chris and Claire, Jill, and Rebecca. You had no room for this. Leon made that pretty clear years ago, but now everything is different. You had to tell everyone what went wrong, how he got injured, and why it ended like that. You had to describe the entire mission, you had to remember everything. Now you were sitting again, with Claire holding your hand, while Jill and Chris were talking with Rebecca. Your eyes were locked on your hands, still stained with his blood. You were completely shocked, with no reaction or words.

“He’ll wake up, I know he will,” Claire whispers as a way to comfort you and give you kind words.

“He said he loves me,” you managed to say, although you doubted Claire would hear it. You wanted to hold onto something real, that would help you deal with what was happening.

“He always did, I’m glad he finally told you that,” Claire said, and you were a little surprised she heard you. More surprised to hear something you thought would never exist.

“But I don’t think that’s true. He always hated me.” You finally look at her, your eyes seeing something different from the dried blood in your hands.

“Do you think Leon is capable of hating you? He’s so in love with you, he can’t even hide it,” Claire said, and then she smiled largely while holding your hands.

But you find it hard to believe those words. Your mind was conflicted between what Claire was saying and what Leon said before he fainted. You wanted desperately to believe it, but deep down, you weren't sure. You finally received authorization to see him, with the benefit of being his “wife” and a government agent, but when you stepped inside his room, seeing all those loud machines around his body and a giant bandage on his ribs, his clothes were perfectly folded in the chair. His skin was pale and cold to the touch. He was almost lifeless, and seeing him like that made you sob again.

“I’m sorry… I never wanted to see you hurt,” you muttered, hoping he would hear it. You held his hand, praying he would wake up. “If you can hear me, then come back to us... I miss you fighting with me”

But there was nothing — not even a small squeeze on your hand. You were trying to convince yourself that he heard you and that he was coming back to you, and that was the lie you were desperately trying to believe. How silly you were. How desperate and pathetic you felt. It could be days, weeks, months, or years, how could you possibly predict when he would wake up? It was up to him.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily, Kennedy,” you said last, as a single tear fell from your eye. You wanted to be brave for him.

And as an answer, he squeezed your hand weakly.

Three months later.

“Goddammit, this hurts!” Leon groaned angrily at you when you tried to remove the bandage from his ribs to clean it.

“Stop moving, asshole,” you said back, glancing at him and then rolling your eyes. “Then it won’t hurt”

“You’re so fucking gentle,” he muttered, taking a deep breath. You waited until he stopped moving so you could change the bandage.

“Hey, I’m not the one with open wounds,” you teased him, then finished removing the bandage, being extra careful with the stitches on his skin.

“How does it look?” Leon asks with a soft voice. You noticed that he never actually looked at the wound.

“Terrible, but healing,” you smiled kindly at him, cleaning around the wound with the antiseptic and the wet cotton. You saw his skin chilling, and soft groans coming from his mouth.

Leon hated seeing his scars. He hated having them; he hated knowing what caused them, which was why he barely sees himself in the mirror; he avoids his own image. One month ago, Leon woke up from his coma, and although he was very confused, at first, due to his brain injury, he had no memories of the mission or what happened before he got hurt. Chris had to explain everything to him like he was a toddler learning how to communicate.

“So… that was it,” Chris tells him, after explaining why he was in a hospital bed with a huge wound on his ribs.

“Shit… I’m tired,” Leon muttered, closing his eyes for a moment and trying to relax his beaten-up body on the bed. “Two months?”

“Yep. You slept like a baby,” Chris chuckled, making fun of the situation to lighten up his mood.

“Where is…” Leon started, as it seems pretty obvious that you weren’t there with Chris.

“Oh…” The smile on Chris’s lips disappeared slowly, and he became more serious, sitting more appropriately on the chair. “Well, um…”

For some unknown reason, Leon was anxious. He didn’t know why, but he felt eager to know why you weren’t there with him; he was sure he heard you say you missed him fighting with you, but at this point, he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or reality. And the way Chris kept looking at him made his heart beat ten thousand times faster. When Chris was about to tell Leon about you, someone knocked on the door, and when the person came inside, Leon felt disappointed to see it was a nurse with his medication.

“Mr. Redfield, you’ll have to leave now. The visiting hour ended a few minutes ago, and the patient needs to rest,” the nurse says, leaving the tray with Leon’s medication on his bedside table. Leon sighed, glancing at the window, while he laid his head on his pillow to rest.

“Before I go… I want you to have this,” Chris said, getting closer to his bed with something in his hand. Leon glanced back, curious. When Chris opened his hand, Leon saw his mother’s ring, and he felt sad. “You know, she was here with you the entire time”

“Then why is she not here now?” Leon asks, holding the ring in his hand and avoiding Chris’s gaze.

“Give time to time,” Redfield said before leaving his room.

Leon hated being in the hospital with different wires connected to his body. Nurses checked on him constantly, asking a lot of questions, taking him through thousands of exams to see if he was doing better or worse, and doing physiotherapy. They said the brain injury had damaged his body, and, besides the wound on his ribs, Leon had broken his arm and would have a disability in walking and doing normal things. Of course, with the proper therapy, he would walk again and have a normal life, but he needed to cooperate.

Leon had already convinced himself you didn’t care, but on the third week after he woke up, he was taken into another exam. One hour later, when he came back to his room, he found you asleep on the chair, wrapped around your jumper, seeming tired to the bones. The nurse helped him lay back on his bed, and he remained silent, just watching you sleep. He wanted to keep every detail about you, even the small ones. Suddenly, you moved on the chair and woke up, yawning. Nothing he had rehearsed in his head prepared him for this moment.

He had given up on hope, he thought you would never see him again. Maybe you had found another partner, or maybe you had moved on with your life. Perhaps you just didn’t care about him. Maybe and more maybe…

"Hey,” you said, noticing he was too shocked to even pronounce a word. “How are you?”

“Fine, I guess,” he managed to say, and he wanted to punch himself because he sounded very rude. “That’s not what I meant…”

But, to his surprise, you just smiled. Chris told you about his amnesia, he told you that Leon wouldn’t be able to walk for a long time because of the damage to his brain from the injury. You were hoping he didn’t remember what happened before he fainted that day. It would be easier for both of you.

“I came here because Chris told me you woke up, I wasn’t in the country, so…” you said, feeling your cheeks blush a little. He nodded quietly, and the expression on his face told you he was sad. “I had to finish our last mission. Do you remember anything?”

“Not so much, everything is a little messed up, and every time I try to remember something, my head hurts,” he says, taking a deep breath and laying his head on the pillow again. “I remember me in front of your apartment telling you about our mission; I remember giving you my mother’s ring; and the fight we had at the airport… I remember a few things from the hotel we were at, but nothing more… Sometimes I have a few flashbacks. I remember getting hurt trying to get our comms back, breaking my arm, but..."

“It’s okay, don’t force yourself. You know you’ll remember eventually,” you said to him, trying to give some comfort. “You’re alive and recovering, that’s all that matters now, Leon”

“It sucks being here… I want to go home, but people keep telling me I’m better here and that medical bullshit,” he sighs, then he looks outside his window again.

“About that… I’m here to offer something,” you said to him, already thinking it would be a terrible idea.

“What would that be?” he asks you, raising both of his eyebrows in a slightly curious tone.

“Come live with me…” you simply said, shaking both of your shoulders like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Until you recover, of course”

At first, having him live with you proved to be a difficult task, mostly because Leon thought he was a burden and strongly avoided his appointments. In his head, he could treat himself alone, he could take care of his wounds and do the chores in the house. However, he could barely leave the bed, and he complained every time you tried to convince him to attend his appointments. Even Chris tried to coax him into getting out of the house, but Leon refused like a pampered kid. It was very difficult.

“You know I can’t do everything on my own, right?” you asked him after finishing changing and cleaning the wound on his rib.

“I know, but… I’m sorry,” he says with a deep sigh, looking at you with guilt. “I know I’m making this more difficult than it should be…”

“It’s not your fault, but I really need you to understand that sometimes even the toughest agent needs help. You can’t avoid medical care forever, Leon,” you said, looking straight into his eyes.

“I’m an asshole, right?” He managed to smile a little, then he looked at you. “I never thanked you for taking care of me”

“What can I say? You didn’t make things easier, either.” You smiled at him, looking into his blue eyes.

“I have something I need to tell you,” Leon whispers, then bites his lower lip and avoids your eyes.

“Shoot me”

“I… remember what happened… before the coma. I remember the mission,” he says, finally taking the courage to look into your eyes. You decided to stay calm, but not cold. “I was scared, I never thought I would almost die… but then you were there with me, and I felt at peace”

“Why did you give me your mother’s ring?” you decided to ask. You needed to understand.

“Because it was personal, I wanted you to have something personal from me… I knew one day I would come close to death trying to get your ass out of danger, and I thought you would feel better having something mine,” he explained, and then, everything made sense. He truly cared about you.

“You’re such a fucking idiot, Kennedy.” You smiled at him, then you laughed.

“Hey… what’s wrong? Are you okay?” you asked after knocking on his door. He glanced at you, his eyes swollen after crying for God knows how long.

This entire month that you took care of him was enough to learn how to read him. Before, he was pure mystery — the person who hated you the most. Now you know when he’s happy, angry, or uncomfortable. You know how to decipher him, read his face, and understand how he feels.

Leon still sleeps in the guest’s room, but sometimes you can hear him wince and cry, and sometimes you can hear him sobbing. You woke up to the sound of him crying and decided to finally ask. You had been wondering for weeks, thinking he wouldn’t talk about this subject. But you needed to try it, anyway.

“I… it’s nothing, I’m okay,” he said, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes.

“C’mon, you can talk to me. We’re friends now,” you say again, sitting on the edge of his bed and smiling.

“It’s just a silly nightmare…” Leon whispers softly, looking at his arm plaster. You had signed your name on it, followed by Chris, Claire, Jill, and Rebecca. “It’s Raccoon City. The same night over and over again”

“You were there? I’m surprised,” you said to him, and he smirked slightly.

“I was a rookie cop, late as hell on my first day. I had recently graduated from the Police Academy,” Leon explains, gazing at the ceiling, then at you again. “I survived that night, met Claire, saved Sherry… then, they forced me to work for them, and here I am”

“Forced? What do you mean?” You raised your eyebrows, confused.

“It was a deal I made to keep Sherry safe… I never told this to anyone,” Leon whispers, and you imagine how cruel it was for him to be forced to work all those years for the government. “How about you? How did you end up being an agent?”

“Before the government, I was in the army. Special Forces. I worked with Task 141 across the earth, until I decided to leave before things went to shit” you tell Leon, which makes him glance at you completely surprised. “I miss my buddies Price, Roach, Soap, and Ghost”

“It’s so weird to think how our lives were different… I was forced to join the government, you decided to do it for yourself…” Leon whispers, analyzing his own choices in life. “Now I can truly understand why you work the way you do…”

“I made a lot of bad choices, I’ll admit that. But after everything I did in the past… you actually get used to your own method of working,” you say to him, hugging your legs. “Maybe that’s why I do things the way I do. I like the adrenaline and danger that come with it”

“I’m sorry for calling you reckless,” Leon said after a brief moment of silence.

“That’s okay, trust me. I've heard worse things before,” you chuckled.

Leon seemed more calm, although his eyes were still red and swollen. You heard the first drops of rain hitting his window, and the noise of the lightning outside announced the rain. For a moment, there was only silence between the two of you.

“I hate this stupid arm plaster,” Leon suddenly says, and then you laugh.

“But there are our names signed on it. And I made a drawing when you were asleep” You showed him the drawing you made. It was a cat and a few flowers.

“Flowers? Really?” Leon frowned, glancing at you.

His last appointment provided good news. His ribs seemed to be healing, and soon he would be able to remove the arm plaster. After the appointment, you drove Leon to his physiotherapy session, and for the first time after he woke up from the coma, he finally decided to cooperate with himself. For some unknown reason, he wasn’t grumpy today.

“What? They’re cute!” you protested while laughing at his reaction. “But I’m serious, you need to sleep now. Tomorrow you have that physiotherapy session and an appointment”

“Well, if you keep doing home exercises, soon you’ll be fully recovered,” the doctor tells him, sitting in front of you two.

“Home exercises?” Leon asks, looking briefly at you, knowing you would definitely force him to do his exercises.

“Yes. It’ll help ease the pain and help with your mobility.” She nods, noting something on the paper. “And, most important, you can’t avoid your appointments, Mr. Kennedy”

“Yeah… I’ll keep coming,” he said, his entire face red as a tomato.

When you drove him back home, he certainly wasn’t expecting a surprise from your little family. Claire, Rebecca and Jill decorated your entire apartment, while Chris went to buy food and drinks. Because of the thousands of pills he was taking, Leon wasn’t allowed to drink any alcohol, which you gladly thanked him for. He was better sober than drunk.

The smile on his lips and the way his eyes were shining were more than he could put into words. You noticed that Claire even bought party letter decorations that were hanging from your ceiling, with the sentence ‘Happy Birthday, Leon’ in blue and yellow.

“Come on, you guys gotta be kidding me” he laughs with happiness, hugging everyone carefully.

“What? You really thought we would forget your birthday, golden boy?” you tease him, drinking soda and giving him one cup.

“This is… amazing” Leon seemed lost in his own words. “I don’t deserve you guys”

After singing him the birthday song, you guys celebrated his birthday with those blue birthday hats and a special cake the girls baked for him. Chris was talking to him, while you and Rebecca were chatting about types of coffee. Jill and Claire seemed to be very focused on their own conversation about TerraSave.

“Guys… I wanted to thank everyone. I know sometimes I’m a pain in the ass, but after everything that happened to me in the past three months, I have a lot to thank for… especially you.” Leon glances at you with shyness. “You took me into your home, took care of me, and had to hear every stupid joke I made, even my grumpy humor”

“That was the hard part, believe me,” you say, winking at him, which makes everyone laugh.

“I know. I was a jerk, and we had a lot of arguments with each other, but recently I found out that…” he paused for a moment, certainly thinking about what to say. “Life can be shitty sometimes, and bad things can happen to us… and this last mission made me see things I thought would never happen to me. I nearly died, but I got a second chance, and I don’t intend to waste it”

You knew exactly what he was talking about. Living with him for the past three months proved to be an interesting task. You knew him, and that was enough. Hours later, it was only you and him, sitting on your couch as the rain struck against the window. The fireplace gives off a warm temperature inside the living room, and, despite the silence, you two are more connected than before.

“I must say, there’s one thing I’m sure won't change,” Leon laughs, looking at his hands, after a long time of silence. “Being almost killed truly made me see things…”

“Such as?” You lifted your head to look at him.

“First, I actually never asked to be reassigned to another partner. I only told you that because I wanted to see how you would react” he said, looking at you. “And…”

“What's the second?” You laugh at his confession, mostly because you knew that a long time ago.

“The second is… I really hate the way that I love you”

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linskywords · 1 month ago

Text

2024 HRPF recs

As has become my wont, I spent the last few weeks trying to catch up on some of the new fics in the hockey RPF tag that I missed over the course of the year. I definitely didn't get to everything, or even all of the most popular ones; there may also be a bias towards shorter fics here, as I was trying to get through a lot. 😅 But I hope you enjoy, and possibly find a gem or two that you missed!

First, some general favorites:

Scoring Effects by @helenish (McDrai, 30K): Ah, Helenish. A goddess among us. I love a good mistaken identity story, and this is a GREAT mistaken identity story.

barons by dilangley (MattDrai, 43K): Future fic in which Houston gets its own expansion team, Matthew coaches it, and Leon and Trevor Zegras play on it. Gorgeously done. The Trevor POV section broke me a bit, but it was worth it.

Living Things by @makeit-takeit (TK/Patty, 115K so far): I am so deeply invested in this series. It's very real and vivid-feeling future fic that does an amazingly thoughtful job exploring the NHL wife-and-kids pipeline and what happens when that doesn't fit you as well as you thought it would. The stories that are written so far feel nicely complete, but if you'd rather hold out for the full HEA, you can check out her Wild Ice for a different highlight from the past year.

put the stars in our eyes by @notthequiettype (McDrai, 17K): the McWedding story that I wish I had written. I thought it was going to destroy me, and instead it left me all warm and fuzzy.

Lost and Found by angry_geno_is_score (MattDrai, 2K): angry_geno_is_score had so much to choose from this year, as always, and I loved this as a microcosm of the hurt/comfort they do so well. If you like it, you know where to find more from them!

Next, we move to the irresistible new Sharks babies. I'm not sure I can oversell how hot these three stories managed to be:

come on (leave me breathless) by countthestars @moondoggiestyle (Will/Mack, 10K): I've already talked about how much I loved this one. There can never be too many stories of one player catching the other getting off in the shower, especially if they're as hot as this.

revising the shoreline by ohyellowbird @teex (Will/Mack, 6K): another super well done exploring-their-sexuality-while-not-talking-about-it story, aka my kryptonite.

teamwork makes the dreamwork by canary @bigdogenergy (Will/Mack and Will/Mack/Ryan Leonard, 19K): I'm sure a lot of you have already read this in the last week or so, but I couldn't not recommend it. Mack goes into heat and Will needs an alpha to help him out. Who to call but the ex?

And then we enter the realm of vaguely devastating but gorgeously written JDTZ trade fics:

home by now by donderwolk @donderwolkenblog (Jamie/Trevor, 6K): The moment they found out about the trade, and a little bit after. Brilliant, impeccable, ruinous.

heat check by jolach @hyggles (Jamie/Trevor and also Carts/Richie, 4K): Outsider perspective on Jamie and especially Trevor as they deal with the aftermath of the trade, through the eyes of Mike Richards, who may have some experience in the area. I don't know how anyone writes this well, honestly.

Finally, one of my favorite things about reading through the past year's fics is finding a prolific new author I love who I had totally missed in my year of mostly reading people I'm already subscribed to. This year it was unsay (@tungpin). They seem to have started writing HRPF this year, and they tend toward the kind of complicated sometimes-ambiguous stories that I never manage to write but love to read. Here are a few of my favorites of theirs from this year:

malt (MattDrai, 4K): Leon meets Sasha Barkov and has feelings about how he wants to be more serious than Matthew does (OR DOES HE).

accessory to the rockstar (McDrai, 5K): once again we have Leon having thoughts about how he feels more than the person he's into, this time about Connor. Bittersweet and lovely.

the care and keeping (Jamie/Trevor, 12K): in which Trevor's friends get on Jamie's case about neglecting him post-trade, and Jamie does something about it.

That's it from me, at least for now! I know there were many excellent stories this year I didn't get to, especially the long ones that I just didn't commit to while reading for this list. Perhaps this is the year I do what I've been telling myself to do for the past two years and keep track of what I read and love throughout the year. We can only dream. 😅

Happy reading!!

#hockey rpf #fic recs #mcdrai #mattdrai #tk/patty #willmack #jdtz

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luveline · 2 years ago

Text

losers | remus lupin

“Please.”

“Please?” he says back, mirroring your soft tone. “You think you need to say please?” His pinky bumps under the waistband of your trousers. There isn’t much give. He traces the lining to your zipper, fiddling with the small piece of metal as your eyes darken. “I should be the one saying it.” His voice keeps dropping, an utterance in the shell of your ear, his words for you and you alone. “I’m at your mercy, dove. Don’t say please with me. Okay?”

you find remus’ number on an abandoned motorbike. things snowball from there. [10k words]

fem!reader, fluff, first date, smut mdni, implied inexperienced!reader, almost rockstar!remus, mentioned that remus takes painkillers, muggle!au, early 2000’s au

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ There’s a motorbike outside of the cafe.

It’s huge. Too heavy for you to move. Technically, you hadn’t found it at all, it was left there in the dead of night a few days ago and hasn’t budged since. It’s illegally parked, a fact that your manager won't stop muttering about while she’s elbow deep in latte foam and coffee cakes.

“I’m getting the bastard thing towed,” she grumbles that morning. “Let the police deal with it.”

That seems rather harsh to you. It isn’t necessarily in the way, and it looks well loved. Perhaps whoever left it can’t remember where they left it, having stumbled home on inebriated footing after one too many at the pub across the street. You think about how much it must cost to get your stuff back after it’s been towed, and though you aren’t sure of the specifics, you know it can’t be cheap. So, when your manager falls into conversation with a regular and your break begins, you creep outside to do some investigating.

It’s a hulking thing made of more black than silver. There are stickers across the left side of the body, weathered and peeling, though one is newer than the others and immediately draws your eye.

A phone number.

If lost, please call.

You take your phone out of your pocket, a flip phone with one dangling charm in the shape of a star. You click each faded button slowly. You're scared to talk to someone you don’t know, but relieved to maybe save the day.

It goes for ages.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you say, dropping your voice into its sweetest tones, though nerves make you too soft, and you worry you’re hard to hear. “Hey, um, sorry to bother you. I work at The Mill, it’s a– a cafe in the city centre… Are you missing a bike, by any chance? A motorbike?”

“Oh, thank you. Yeah, it’s my friend’s. He can be… forgetful.” The voice that speaks is both smooth and gritty, impossibly, like whoever it is that’s talking smoked half a pack of cigarettes before he answered the phone. He clears his throat. “I hope it hasn’t been an imposition for you.”

“Actually, uh, my manager wants to have it towed. Like, now. I can try to fend her off but honestly she’s like, that physics law, um, unstoppable force? Uh,” —you’re stuttering, making it worse, because his voice is surprisingly handsome and you’re an idiot through and through— “yeah, so could you come and get it?”

“Yes! Yeah, absolutely, we’re on our way. Thank you.”

“Sure. Of course.”

You hear something not meant for you, the tail end of, “Sirius, get up. You better call Marl and—”

Phone back in your pocket, you take a quick glance around the street before reaching out to run your finger over the cracked leather of the motorbike seat. You’ve never ridden one before. You’ve never wanted to. The level of fearlessness one needs for it isn’t one you possess.

You’re the opposite of fearless.

The sun hides behind a wave of clouds. Your skin chills near immediately, your prim slacks and apron a worthless defence against the cold. It’s an average day here, grey and quiet. Occasionally a couple will pass you, hand in hand as they traverse the worn pavement. You smile at an elderly man and his dog as they shuffle across the street and into the cafe. Your smile fades as you tune into the fierce tones of your manager, demanding to know where you’ve gone. If your absence is what distracts her from calling the police, so be it.

You’re considering getting your phone back out to play Snake when a passing car slows beside you. You straighten up and out, feeling your spine click in more places than it should as the passenger door opens and an insanely attractive man throws himself out of it.

“My angel!” he cries, heading straight for you.

You take a panicked step backward. The man dives for his motorbike. You flinch, mystified by his enthusiasm and his opposite appearance. Short sleeves reveal arms full of dark tattoos, with one side marred by a brutally long scar from his elbow to the back of a ring-laden hand. You tear your eyes from him as a second door closes across the street, and feel all the air rush from your chest as a second man approaches.

He’s very pretty. It might be redundant to say it to yourself, presented as you are with an undeniable truth, but you think it anyway. Sandy brown hair, pale skin, and in enough layers to make up for his friends lack thereof, the second man ignores any dramatics and meets you head on.

“Hi,” he says, holding out his hand, “you’re the one who called?”

Closer now, you can see the scars on his face. They stretch over the ridge of his nose and into his eyebrow. A smaller one tugs as he talks against his top lip.

You take his hand and shake it limply. “Yeah, that was me.”

If he’s concerned with your nervousness he doesn’t show it. His smile doesn’t move. “He wants to say thank you. He will, once he gets over himself.”

“Thank you!” the dark-haired man calls. “She’s my everything. I’ve been sick with worry.”

“Have you?” the man in front of you asks, his voice steady, almost intimidating in its impassiveness.

“Yes, Moons, I have been… not that you’d know.”

“Some of us have real problems,” Moons snips, though he quickly looks at you like he’s embarrassed. “Sorry. He brings out the worst in me.”

“You must be good friends.”

You don’t know why you say it. He only smiles.

“We must be.”

The first man stands up from checking over his motorbike and beams at you. You suspect it’s an expression that works in his favour more often than not. “What can I give you, doll?”

“No, nothing. Please. I’ll just be glad to hear the end of it.”

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, really."

Your manager calls your name, clear as day despite the thick pane of glass and brick walls separating you.

"That's you?" Moons asks.

"That's me. Sorry."

"No, don't be. Thanks so much for calling."

You nod hurriedly, throwing them both a 'nice to meet you, I'm sorry for leaving so fast' kind of smile and head back inside.

You take a sneaky look back when you're behind the counter again. They’ve turned their backs to you, Moons' friend ruffling his hair roughly. After a minute or two, Moons gets back in his car, and the motorbike pulls away like it was never there to begin with.

What sort of name is Moons? you ask yourself. It's a question that stays with you for a few days. You find yourself hoping you'll see him again, or that his friend's motorbike will turn up outside of the cafe for a few long days and give you an excuse to call him. His number stays unsaved in your recent calls menu for a while. Eventually, you forget about him altogether; the motorbike, the call, the gentle wave of his hair.

You're hard-pressed to forget his voice, though. There'd been something familiar about it.

"Nice highscore."

You jump hard and wince as the metallic taste of blood hits your taste buds. To make it worse, you slam your phone up into the counter it was hiding under in shock. It makes a fatal crunching sound.

You shove it into your pocket and look up. Standing there, in all his handsome weariness, is Moons, sans friend. He's wearing nice clothes, clean and clearly ironed. You're immediately aware of your ratty uniform and your unkempt hair.

"Shit," you say, which is so fucking embarrassing, honestly, you could fall through the floor and stay there, "Sorry. What can I get you?"

His eyebrows inch up his forehead. "What's the easiest thing to make?"

That's not a question you get often. "Uh, regular black coffee, or tea, or, the uh– the hot chocolate's not that hard. But you should order whatever you like, of course."

Moons smiles at you. You're starting to understand the nickname (assuming it is a nickname). He has this odd but enticing presence about him, like that awestruck feeling of looking up at night and seeing all the teeny tiny stars and the moonlight that comes down with them, bright and somewhat daunting.

"Sure you don't mind?"

"I'm paid not to mind."

"Can I get the biggest cup of tea you can make? Milk and two sugars, please."

"Absolutely." You sidestep to the register and click a bunch of the wrong buttons. You're unprofessionally flustered. "Uh, three sixty five?"

He passes you a five pound note. Your tip cup is for the more generous type, and he has no trouble dropping his palmful of change into it. He barely looks. You're expecting him to take a seat but he stays standing, one arm pressed to the counter, the other held up. He scratches behind his ear absentmindedly, as though he has nowhere else to be.

"Are you in a hurry?" you ask, confused.

He stays quiet for enough time to shit you up. You're tipping milk over your hand and hoping he hasn't seen it when he says, "No rush. I'm here to see you."

You look over your shoulder at him. You can't help it. "To see me."

"Yeah."

You spin back to his tea. The counter is covered in spills and sugar, cup tops and wooden stirrers. You take them all in with wide eyes. Nobody ever comes to see you. Not your friends, not family (unless they want something). Especially not boys you met once for two minutes.

"Is there something wrong?" you ask.

You clip the lid onto his big tea and wrap it in napkins so it doesn't burn his hands.

"Nothing's wrong," he says kindly. "I wanted to apologise. Your boss was upset with you. It was Sirius' fault. We owe you for it."

"You really don't have to say sorry. She wasn’t that mad. No harm, no foul."

You put his cup of tea down in front of him and try to smile like girls do in the movies. Soft doe eyes, not too bright, not too awkward. You give up after a second and feel it twist into something regrettable.

His long silence makes you squirm.

"A thank you, then.”

He offers you an envelope. You take it.

The paper is crisp and thick. Your fingers are clumsy, and it takes you too many seconds to fold the envelope's lip and pull out the card stock inside.

You look up in shock. "I can't–"

He's not there. You look to the door, catching what might've been his hand as he walks out of view.

He's left you two concert tickets. You don't go to concerts. You might have, when you were younger, and had friends to follow. As it stands he's given you two seated tickets for a show in the Pointer Arena not far from where you work, for a band you've never heard of. The price on each is a solid £20, which is way too much repayment for ringing a number from a sticker. Worse, you're not sure you have somebody who can use the second one.

You hope he'll come back for clarification alone, and a little to see him, but he doesn't, and soon the date on the ticket matches the date on your calendar and you're standing outside of the venue with no clue how to hold yourself.

You stand in line for a while. It's a very long line made up of mostly younger women. You listen for the calling of a reseller and spot a group of young girls trying to haggle with them, reluctantly leaving your place in line.

"Hi," you say quietly to the one furthest from the epicentre. "I'm sorry if this is weird. I have an extra ticket tonight, and I was wondering if you'd like it? I know it's seated, but maybe you could use it to get in and then, uh, not sit? Or just sit." You could writhe around on the ground in shame. You hold out the spare ticket. "If you want it."

"Are you kidding?"

"No, seriously."

She takes the ticket and you walk away before she can try and give it back to you. Whether she uses it or not, it's no longer your problem to deal with. The lady who'd been standing behind you lets you back in line, for which you're extremely grateful, and you shiver your way to the front with nerves churning your stomach.

You've imagined being turned away twenty times by the time they usher you through the doors. The air is buzzing with excitement, enough of it to ramp up your nerves, and you smile weakly at the people who pass you on the way up to the seating area you've been designated. The Pointer Arena is a smaller venue with much more standing than seating capacity available. The seats are at the sides and back of the second floor, looking down at the pit with a safety barrier in front.

You slide into your seat and peer down at the crowd as it fills up one ant of a person at a time. You can't distinguish one person from another after a while. It’s a moving sea of dark clothes.

It takes a long time for the opening act to come on. You're not having much fun. You'd tried to use the computer in the cafe to research the bands playing tonight but the dial up hadn't been working and your manager hates when you take long breaks, so you aren't sure you'll even enjoy yourself. You're not sure why you came here — is it sad, to come here alone? It looks sad, you think, pathetic, but it doesn't feel sad. You're not very good at talking, anyways. It's so difficult. Or maybe you just make it that way.

This is why you regret coming. Any time spent by yourself is time to think. You hate thinking, but it's all you seem to be able to do. Think and think and think. Your mind runs in the same circles. Things you've done, things you wish you did, things you want to do so badly it makes you feel sick. You can't stand it.

The crowd begins to rise in volume. Cheers echo against the atrium ceiling, and you push yourself to the edge of your seat to see what's making them all so excited.

The opening band. They're too far away to see clearly. First on stage is a man with brown skin and a head of black curls, a guitar swinging from his neck, the body barely held as he waves to the masses. Next comes a paler man with hair tied up in a bun who sits down behind the drum kit and doesn't move much after that. A girl practically sprints to centre stage, scooping up a waiting guitar (or bass?) and strumming down the body appreciatively. She has purple hair, bright and choppy, particularly abrasive against the alabaster white of her skin.

And last on stage… last on stage is Moons.

You move forward suddenly, smacking your face against the plexiglass barrier and biting your cheek for the second time in a week. Used to your mistreatment, the poorly healed skin wastes no time splitting, and the metallic taste of blood makes you cringe.

That's Moons. There are two huge screens either side of the stage that magnify him. First his hand on the microphone, a scar coiling up from his wrist to his thumb purple against his skin. Then his face. You wouldn't forget what he looks like so soon, not when you've half obsessed over him for days with could-be's because he'd wanted to see you and you have a bad habit of inventing future's with people you don't know, but even if you did it wouldn't matter. You've never met anyone else with three scars as he has across his face, taking centre stage.

You hadn't realised the tickets were to see his band. It makes sense, now, why your seat is in such a quiet area, and why the people sitting close by aren't firecracker happy at the sight of them. They must've received their tickets in the same way, gifts or thank yous for small favours.

Your mouth dries as they begin to play. It's not what you're expecting. Of course, you haven't really had time to expect anything, and yet you're shocked when they start to play a slow song. He doesn't really look like a rockstar, but a heartthrob? You can see it easily. The long lengths of his lashes, and the dark honey of his eyes. His smile, so small but somehow piercing.

His voice is careful. He doesn't sing anything impressive —there's no belting or high notes— but you still find yourself wringing your hands together, entranced by his confidence. He dances around the melodies and fills up every space he can find between the beat of the drums and the searing guitar riffs that follow.

They only play five songs. By the time they've finished you're feeling sick to your stomach, and you can't get your heart to calm down. You hadn't known a word of the lyrics, but you'd felt them.

They're good.

Like, too good to be openers for long.

The crowd echoes your sentiment. They clap and scream and wolf whistle. The noise vibrates in the depth of your stomach. The cheering doubles when the headlining band’s techies emerge. The lights go down. Equipment begins to roll out.

You scrounge through your purse for a lip balm and think about heading downstairs to the concession stands for an overpriced bottle of water to wash away the unfortunate tang of blood. It aches to pay, but if you don't soon you might get nauseous, and that would be a real disaster, throwing up here of all places.

You hear his voice before you see him. He's laughing, talking to somebody about the set.

"It was great!" compliments a feminine voice. "I don't know what you were so worried about, Remus, you're really great. And if you weren't, Marl would've saved the day anyways with her gorgeous showmanship."

"Thanks, baby," says a second voice. Marl.

"Thanks, Mary," Moons says.

What had Mary called him? Remus? Odd, not quite as strange as Moons.

You try not to tense as footsteps approach.

"Can I sit?" he asks.

You look up too fast. He's a little damp, the hair closest to his face curled with it, but he smells good as he sits down. He must've washed up.

"I– I've been calling you Moons in my head," you admit, not sure what to say.

He's intimidating. You don't imagine he knows it. He sits in the chair without any fanfare, setting his forearm on the rest between your two seats and turning his face to you completely, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, almost like he doesn't want to smile but can't help himself. His eyes are the slightest bit lidded, emphasising the brilliance (and unfairness) of his lashes, so thick and dark you wonder if he's wearing makeup.

"You can call me whatever you want to, but my name's Remus. I should've told you that before. I was… distracted."

He isn't being coy, you realise. He easily could be if he wanted to, but he was genuinely lost for words for a second.

"I didn't really tell you mine," you say, hoping to ease his gentle confusion.

He says your name like it's easy. Like he enjoys the sound of it. "Y/N. Do you like music?"

Is that a trick question? His eyes trace up to your eyebrows as they pinch together, but he doesn't amend his question. Not a trick, then.

"I like music,” you say.

"I realise it's brave to ask someone to come and see you on stage. And that I look like a tosser sometimes with the stage lights and makeup."

"No," you say quickly, "you don't. You looked just fine. You looked good. I bet it's hard getting on stage like that, and in front of this many people. And singing. You have a really nice voice."

His eyes soften. "Thank you. Do you wanna go get a drink with me? There's a bar. It's quiet."

Your elbow brushes against his long sleeve. "Yeah." You're not breathless enough to embarrass yourself, but it's a close call.

Remus leads you up and out of the seats. The venue is large in that it has just as many hallways and back rooms as it has places to watch the show. Remus’ warm hand catches your elbow, a friendly touch that guides you around the barrier and through a dimly lit hallway that takes you to the bar.

The bar overlooks the stage, but the sound of the band and the crowd is dampened severely, making for a sorely needed respite. VIP's mill around the room on plush leather sofas and cushy bar stools sipping from sweating glass bottles. Remus' hand moves up to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as a familiar face waves you over.

"Hey, it's you!"

You smile at Remus' motorbike friend. You're a hundred percent sure his name is Sirius, but you won't say it aloud in case you're wrong. Beside him sits the other man you'd seen on stage with them, the guitarist with brown skin and a head full of thick hair. You look between the three of them in secret shock, wondering if handsome attracts handsome or if it's just dumb luck that they ended up together.

"James, this is the babe that found Stacia," Sirius says.

James wrinkles his nose. "Hi," he says, in a voice that sounds deeply apologetic, years of it like the rings of a tree. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Um, and you?"

"I'm good! Thanks, I'm good, it's nice of you to come see us. Did you like the show?"

"Yeah, I did. I had no idea you guys were musicians."

He splits his attention between you and his jacket. He pulls a glasses case out of his pocket, clicks it open, and straightens out a pair of wire frames.

"Couldn't tell from our baby boy's general demeanour?" he asks. "Hey, that's better, I can see you now."

"Sirius is the youngest," Remus says.

"And the handsomest."

"No, Marl's clearly the handsome one," James says lightly.

Sirius takes the rebuttal in good jest and brandishes his drink toward you like a toast. "Want a beer?"

"I'm getting her one," Remus says, "come on, give me a minute here."

Everybody laughs. You laugh too, turning your face into your shoulder to smother the sound.

"Well, come and sit with us, make yourself comfortable," James says, moving his jacket off of the chair in front of you.

Remus makes a small, apprehensive sound. "Drinks first." He looks to you for confirmation. "Yeah. We'll be back."

You follow him to the bar. Your shoes, a pair of dirty converse you wish you'd swapped for heels or something sophisticated, squeal against the hardwood floor. How were you supposed to know you'd see him again tonight? In what world does stuff like this happen to scruffy waitresses? You're starting to think he might be somebody.

Not that it matters if he is or isn't.

But if he is… This is embarrassing, right? Not knowing who he is.

There must be a couple thousand people here tonight. Then again, his band were the opening act, so it doesn't necessarily mean they're all famous or anything.

"Hey," Remus says softly, stopping your thoughts cold. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Sorry. I've never been in here before, anywhere that's like it,” you say.

"Venues are all different but the bars don't change," he says. "What do you like?"

"I'm not a big drinker."

"That's okay. I just wanted an excuse to be alone with you." He doesn't even give you time to recover. "Truth is, I wanted to ask you out. But between shows I couldn't find time, and next week I'm in San Marino."

What you mean to say is, you wanted to ask me out? But instead, you choke, "You're going to Italy?"

Remus pushes a seat out for you, helping you up with a solid hand, and, while your fingers are still warm from his touch, he says, "San Marino isn't Italy. I didn't know that 'til a few months ago. But pretty much."

"What's in San Marino?"

"A wedding." He climbs into the seat next to you, smiling.

The tan colour of his long-sleeves contrasts his pale hands. Your eyes flash to his ring finger. Not his wedding.

Remus isn’t easy to talk to. It's not wholly his fault. He doesn't force conversation, leaving you awkwardly searching for something to say. You're not the best conversationalist either. He clearly doesn't mind it.

You're in the midst of a clumsy retelling of a shitty customer service moment when he tips his head to the left just a touch.

"Maybe we can go on an actual date when I'm home,” he says.

He says it like he's talking about the weather. You'd be worried he was messing with you, but then he smiles again, flicking his index finger against your wrist mildly. "You don't have to answer me now. Finish telling your story."

"It was pretty much finished. And– and I'd like to. Go on a real date. I've never been out of the country, so you'll have to forgive me if I want to know everything about San Marino."

He looks at your lips. Says, "Good," and doesn't give any indication that he's noticed how nervous you are. That is, until he covers your trembling hand with his and presses it flat to the bar.

"You're really pretty," he murmurs. He takes a moment, and he smiles. "Come with me? If I don't give Sirius some attention soon he'll start showing off."

—

James is starting to wonder if he should invite you to San Marino. He's not that stupid; it would be a huge pain if you were standing in the middle of all his wedding photos and you and Remus don't work out. But, while he's certainly and majorly jumping the gun, he has a suspicion he’ll be seeing you again.

James has never seen Remus like this before.

His friend is usually quiet, quipping every now and then perhaps at Sirius' insufferable antagonism but otherwise brooding. He hasn't seen him smile this much, ever.

James is under no illusions — he knows Remus loves him very much. He knows Remus is happy, and not always healthy but managing. He knows Remus is pleased with their lives and ecstatic to have their music take off. But he also knows Remus won't let himself have a good thing, not really. Maybe that's why he's asked you out now, when in a week they'll be in San Marino, and a week after that they'll be in Cardiff to officially start the new tour.

He knows Remus, sweetheart, kind hearted, miraculous Remus, tends to let people down. He's a stickler for asking people out and cancelling the day before. It's how it always goes. James will ask how the date went and Remus will shake his head and say, "it didn’t work out."

He knows Remus doesn't mean to hurt anybody. He just… can't get close.

But he's trying, with you. A glass of cordial in one hand, the other behind your chair, Remus tells you one of his more embarrassing stories about how he'd taken a bad fall and ended up in A&E with half of an eyebrow. He doesn't mention the painkillers that made him woozy.

You've relaxed considerably since sitting down. James would be happy to report that you're having a good time. You have your own drink in hand, and your eyes are bright, with a receding space between your face and Remus' as the story goes on. It's like watching two magnets fight to hold themselves apart.

Matter of time, James thinks to himself smugly.

—

Honesty is important. You admit to yourself that you and Remus aren't exactly a perfect match. Both quiet, both not quite social butterflies, your conversations had occasionally been stilted and slow, but you've only met twice. Things don't have to be perfect, and more than that — there's a spark there. A twinge of a possibility. He'd liked what little he knew about you enough to ask to see you again, and you'd like what little you knew about him in turn to say yes.

It doesn't have to be perfect, you insist to yourself, a bundle of nerves. Nothing does.

He looks pretty perfect. Base of his palm pressed to the brick wall of the cafe, hand angled down as his fingers grasp the neck of a bouquet whose flowers have been shedding petals onto the damp pavement below. He holds his other hand against his chest, clicking buttons on his phone.

You approach from the left and watch him play a game of Snake.

"You play Snake?" you ask.

"Doesn't everybody?" he asks back, his smile softening what might otherwise feel like a chastisement. He doesn't look up from his phone.

"Woah, how long have you been out here?" you ask, eyeing his weirdly long snake.

Remus guides the snake into a wall on purpose. It dies, his high score flashes across the screen, and he aims an apologetic look your way. "Sorry, that was rude." He doesn't try to hide that he's looking over your face. "Thanks for coming."

He leans in and kisses your cheek. Delighted warmth curls in your stomach, worse when he passes you the bouquet of flowers. They've mostly survived his poor treatment, and there's a lot of them. He's left the price tag on and you're not sure if he's noticed. You pretend not to see it.

"Thank you…” You look away from the flowers, all whites and reds and baby’s breath, to ogle him as subtly as you can manage. “Wow, you've caught the sun. Was it lovely in San Marino?"

"I'll tell you all about it over dinner,” he says. “I thought we'd walk, it's not far." He holds out his hand. You wipe your palm against your side before you take it, worried you'll have clammy hands. He must guess, because he says, "Don't be nervous."

"I am," you say hopelessly. "I've never been on a date before."

"This is your first date?"

You feel a hot flush coming on. "I– yeah. That's embarrassing, I shouldn't have told you that."

"No, it's a good thing. Now I know it has to be extra special."

"It doesn't," you say.

"I was hoping it would be." He pulls you down the pavement and further into the city centre toward the main high street. "San Marino. It was beautiful, and I took a couple of photos but I didn't have room on my phone. Well, I could've deleted Snake–"

"Why would you?" you joke, grinning.

He laughs, and squeezes your hand slightly. "Exactly. I have priorities. It's a long flight, and looking over the photos can only take up so much time. No, but it really was… it was beautiful. I'd never given much thought to a destination wedding. They make sense, right? It's the best day of your life, why would you have it here?"

He tilts his chin toward the grey sky. You look up with him, feeling the cold wind kiss the sides of your face and pull through your hair.

"Come on, Remus, it's not that bad. If it's sun you're after, you could just wait for British summer time. You know, the whole three days of it."

He laughs — you've made him laugh twice already. This is going okay. Laughing while looking at one another, a bouquet in one hand and his hand in the other, you feel that curl of delight begin to bloom. It fills your insides up, has you smiling until your eyelashes brush in the corners.

"It was James' wedding. Do you remember which one that was?"

He asks so kindly. You don't doubt for a second that he wouldn't care if you forgot. It's refreshing, even if it's something you'd expect.

"I remember. I didn't realise he was getting married."

"Don't ever say that in front of him, he'll put himself on the cross." He swings your hand as you turn a corner. The Italian restaurant you'd agreed on winks from a distance.

"He's devoted," you guess.

"He's insane. He was worse when we were younger. His girlfriend– his wife," he amends, "Lily, she's really something else. Warm and funny, but she's been keeping him on his toes for years. She has family in San Marino, hence the wedding."

You listen to him talk eagerly. His voice is as handsome as his face, and the more he says the less stilted he becomes. There had been a strained quality to it before (strained, or restrained? something he wasn't saying) that's all but disappeared.

"It was like a movie. White linen, sand, crying."

"Did you cry?" you ask, expecting a puffed up chest.

"So much. Too much, maybe. I was half of the best man."

"Half?"

"We had to share, me and Sirius. They've always been…" Remus slows his steps. "Am I being boring? I'm talking too much about me."

"We have time. I want to hear it. I'd like to hear it," you say.

James and Sirius are brothers. Remus sees your surprised look and doesn't condemn you for it. Sirius is unofficially adopted. The Potter's fostered him from ages thirteen until he aged out, and though they tried to adopt him, Sirius was reluctant. Remus doesn't get into the reasons beyond that, and you don't ask. You suspect he's only telling you about it to drive home how much the Potter's love Sirius. How much James does.

Remus had been Sirius' friend from their very first year of comprehensive school. Sirius moved in with the Potter's, and, adoring as they were, they let him have friends over whenever he liked. James, Sirius, and Remus spent the next decade together like that, hiding in Sirius' room. Best friends, entirely inseparable, and all fiercely protective of each other.

"They've always been like brothers."

"But not…"

He understands what you're worried to say. "I think it would've been weird… I had a candle burning for James. For a long time."

Your jaw drops a little. "And you just had to watch him have the most romantic wedding ever," you whisper sympathetically. You're joking: it's clear the candle isn't burning now.

"Told you I cried," he says. "No, but you've seen him. He's a supermodel. It's awful."

"Remus, I think you might be underestimating how handsome you are," you say. You bite your lip and look at his chin rather than his eyes.

He's generous. He gives your wrist a tug and chuckles warmly. "I'm glad you think so. Tonight might have been awkward, otherwise."

You duck together inside of the restaurant, hands falling apart as Remus gives his last name for the reservation. Lupin. Your face has a mind of its own.

"Charming, isn't it?"

"It is," you say emphatically, denying his sarcasm. "I've never heard anything like that. Lupine, like a fox?"

"Wolf."

A server shows you to your table and hands you two leather covered menus. Leather, not plastic, a sign that tonight is going to be classy. You've dressed for the occasion in a smart blouse and slacks, too terrified of wearing a dress. Remus seems to have done the same as you, reaching for smart but dodging the mark in a button down and a casual jacket. When he takes off his coat, he looks perfect. He fits right in.

"Could we get a glass?" he asks the server. "For the flowers? If it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all."

You run your hand across the silken tablecloth and the space between you both feels somehow smaller than when you'd been holding hands. Outside, you could let your gaze drift to the pavement, the fenced in trees, the couples that passed you by. Here, you're forced to watch one another.

It's not so bad. It's agonising.

"This is weird," you say. You flinch when you hear yourself. "Sorry, not that you're weird! I'm weird. I've never ever done this."

"No, I know," he says, almost murmuring, "it's okay."

"I just blurted out what I was thinking–"

"I know." He sits back in his chair. His head tilts down, his eyelashes kissing the skin above his brows as he fixes you with a look. It has the intended effect, tension easing from your rigid spine and tight shoulders. "This is weird. But it's still early. It could get weirder."

You like that he says it as if it's a good thing.

You order the same thing he does, and you don't turn down his offer to get a bottle of wine, though it feels too grown up. You keep forgetting you're an adult, and that your life isn't on hold. Things can happen to you at any time.

"I want to address the elephant in the room," he says.

Not promising. "Okay."

"Are we having dessert?" Remus leans forward on both forearms. Hair falls in his eyes. He's dressed nicely and he's handsome but there's something homespun about him, something golden. You can't help looking at him and thinking impossibly forward thoughts, cheesy waffle from the films. He's familiar. "Nobody ever wants to get dessert with me. It's actually a real issue for me."

"I'll get dessert with you." A smoother you with more confidence, who wore the dress and asked him to go to the Thai restaurant instead, would've said something more suave. We're having whatever you want, handsome.

Remus flips the menu to the very last page and reads the desserts aloud. For himself, it seems, half-muttered and apprehensive. "Chocolate cake from places like this will either be the nicest thing we've ever eaten or burnt in the microwave. And it's childish that I want chocolate cake. I should be spoon feeding you creme brulee. Or whipped cream and strawberries."

He tips his head back and rubs his eyes. It's a charade of feigned self loathing that makes you laugh.

"I'm a child," he laments, thumb and index finger pressed into his eyes. He checks to see if you're watching before doubling down.

"I like cake," you say, and you'd lie if you thought it was what he wanted to hear. Handsome, kind, and funny. Not to mention talented. He needs smart for the sweep.

Remus falls out of his dramatics. You mourn the loss, beggy a good look on him, but forget all about it when he slides his chair around the table to share the menu with you, your heads inclined as you read it together again. He smells woody. You hope he likes the jasmine of your perfume.

"It all sounds really nice," you confide, afraid to disturb the comfortable hush. "I haven't had gelato since I was a kid. Oh, did they have real gelato in San Marino?"

“They had a lot of stuff in San Marino… I want to hear about you.”

“What do you want to hear?”

The questions start and don’t stop. Where did you grow up? That’s the easy part. What did you study in school? Were you in sports? The art club? And what do you do now, when you aren’t working in the cafe? The more he asks, the easier it is to answer. He doesn’t slow when the waiter brings a glass for your bouquet, simply stands and places them inside with exceedingly gentle hands, smiling at you from between the stems. You eat slowly when the food arrives — you're busy talking.

It feels fucking amazing. To have someone want to know anything about you. And unless he’s an actor of the highest regard, he’s obviously enjoying your conversations, though they wilt and wane and wind around one another. You lose track of time and thread as the night goes on, distracted by the near unnoticeable asymmetry of his smile, and the way he laughs when you laugh, like an echo.

You get cake like he wanted. Triple fudge cake with buttercream thick but melting from the heat. It looks straight from the pages of a magazine, glossy and dusted with sugar powder, but he doesn’t seem to like it. He takes a couple of bites and leaves it alone. You don’t want to look greedy, so you do the same.

The date is suddenly over.

“Could I walk you home?” he asks, when you’ve both put your coats back on, and the damp roots of your flowers are leaving an imprint on your chest.

You nod rather than answer.

Things are good, not perfect. That’s what you keep thinking. There’s something he isn’t saying. Or, horrifyingly, something he doesn’t like about you. Still, the sky is velvet black and the air is crisp. Stars like needlepoints dot the air. Street lights work to hide them, casting a warm yellow glow over the pavements and your meandering shoes.

A brisk wind whips past you. You shiver and press your lips together hard, hands quick to rigidity. Remus looks at you sideways, and breaks the quiet. “Are you cold?”

“A little.” No point in lying when he can see you trembling.

“Do you want my coat?”

“No, no, it’s alright–“ You cut off as he steps in front of you, his hand vying for yours.

He tucks the flowers under his arm and sandwiches your fingers between his. He has short fingernails, and another scar down one pinky finger. How’d you get that one? you want to ask. How’d you get any of them?

His breath clouds the air. “I should’ve thought about the cold.”

“This is better,” you say. Than a warm taxi home. His thumbs brushing down the backs of your hands.

You walk to your flat building and hesitate at the foyer door. The potential for a kiss goodnight has flayed your thoughts. The image of his hands climbing your arms, holding you still, plays like a flickering film. You have no idea if he’s going to do it.

“How will you get home?” you ask quietly.

“I parked by the cafe, it isn’t far.”

“Oh…” The lights from your building paint him the faintest shade of pink. Your breath fogs out in front of you, as does his, and the warmth of walking will soon fade. “I–“

“Here,” he says, handing you the flowers again.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“Fits the recipient.”

It takes a second for you to get it. Oh, you think. You can hardly feel the cold now. Your heart hurts, and you’re begging him to want to take a step toward you. The silence goes for too long.

“I– I’d love to see you again,” you say. Love comes out funny. Maybe because you can feel his rejection coming.

“I won’t be here next week. Not for a long time. We’re touring properly, now.” He scratches the side of his face.

“Right. Right, of course you are. Um, good luck with that. And thank you for tonight, for dinner.” You wave your flowers weakly.

He looks at you. He takes a half step toward you. You can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“You really are pretty,” he says finally. “Goodnight.”

He smiles quick and turns quicker. You watch him walk a few steps but ultimately can’t face it, pushing into the foyer of your building with a hardset frown. Your hands shake, minute abstractions of the sharp rejection panging in your chest. Your ears roar and then go quiet. What did I do wrong? you think, shocked and upset and trying to rationalise. He doesn’t have to kiss you. He asked you out on a maybe, and now whatever question he had is answered.

The door creaks open. You spin on your heel, too wrapped up to think about hiding your expression. Remus stands in the doorway of the porch, his arm pressed to the glass panel, the other held out to you.

"Come here," he says quietly. It isn't a question, but he's asking.

You step into his reach, letting him pull you by the waist against his chest. He leans down until his nose glances against ýours, and he starts to say something. You push your chin up in your eagerness and he doesn't try again. He kisses you, once, contrite, and he pulls back and his hand clasps your arm tight as he ducks in for another. His lips are fast to lose the cold of the weather, but his tongue is a hot shock at the seam of your own.

You go weak in his arms. The flowers between you crunch and smother themselves. You can’t think about it. Your hands are numb. He takes over every one of your senses until you’re more kiss than thought, reciprocating his slow, deep searching. You run out of breath.

He eases you backward, cupping the side of your head in his big palm.

“I want to see you again,” he says hoarsely. “But I– I don’t know when I’ll be back.” His hand adjusts against your cheek, like he’s worried you’re slipping out of his hold. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I can wait,” you say.

“I couldn’t ask you to.”

You rub your buzzing lips together, each heaven of your chest marked by the crinkling sound of cellophane.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” you ask.

He strokes the edge of your mouth with his thumb. “Are you sure?”

You kiss him. You don’t know if this will work, any of it, the broad stroke or this one night, but you want him.

—

Remus doesn’t know what he’s doing. He knows how to fuck somebody, that isn’t the problem. He doesn’t know what he’s doing with you. The same thing that made him walk away had pulled him right back in, had him skipping steps on the staircase up to your flat, drinking in the back of your head and roll of your shoulders as you’d made apologies for the mess inside.

He doesn’t feel like himself when he’s with you. He thinks of it like this — what he is, his pain, his wants, that’s all set in stone. Any change is an erosion, and little by little over the years he’s managed to whittle himself down into the smallest, cleanest version of himself. Then suddenly the band’s making money, people are listening to his voice on the radio in countries all over the world, and he can’t hide anymore. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to, after all. What else inspires a performer into the spotlight? The music, he thinks desperately, knowing it’s half a lie.

Isn’t it why he’d asked you to the show? Come and watch me sing. See me at my most impressive. My most curated.

And now he’s following you into your bedroom after one date, about to strip it all away.

“You didn’t have too much wine, did you?” he asks. You hadn’t really finished your first glass, but it won’t hurt to make sure.

You peel your jacket off and drop it over the back of a wide armchair. “I don’t think so. Did you?”

“No.” His head has never been this clear.

He thinks about what you said. This is your first date, and he’s not clueless enough to assume that never going on a date means never having sex, but he wants to be careful with you anyway. He wants this to last beyond a dinner date.

Which means he has to get out of his head.

Beyond all of his own mess, he really does think you're pretty. More than pretty. You’re beautiful, and your voice…

He wants to see what other sounds you make.

Remus gets his hands on you. Soft touches, his hands coasting from your elbows to your warming hands. He squeezes your fingers, leaning in for a quick kiss. He rests his nose against the skin beneath your eye. “Tell me if it’s too much?” he asks, a murmur of hot air.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go slowly.”

“Okay.” Your voice is barely audible.

He pulls away to make sure you’re alright, and is surprised to see a glassy sheen in your eyes. He holds your face in both hands and works your lips open against his, guiding you backwards into the plush of your poorly made bed. He’s all sweet touches and eager kisses, cautious not to hurt you, or let too much of his weight press against your soft torso. His kisses follow to the corner of your mouth, the tip of his nose tender against your cheek. “You’re so quiet,” he says. He isn’t complaining, but he wants to hear your voice.

“I’m a bit preoccupied.”

He laughs into your skin, kissing down to your jaw. “You’re right,” he says, revelling in the goosebumps that rise under his hands.

Your shaking inhales cleave a pit in his stomach. He mouths at the side of your neck, half-kisses, tiny warning nips before he thumbs open the first button of your shirt. He meanders, dropping a path crescent moon kisses into your front until the fabric of your bra gets in the way. The soft hill of your breast staggers to a halt beneath him. He can tell that you’re holding deliberately still.

Kisses. You need more kisses, an absolution from any lingering nervousness. Your hands thread into his hair gently, your fingers raking wavy strands behind his ears as you give in. You melt into your sheets, your legs parting from the pressure of his hips.

Your hands fall from his hair to needle between your two bodies and undo the rest of your buttons. The fabric falls aside, your chest and tummy his to catalogue. He drops his hand against your stomach, smoothing a line down to your slacks. His lips ache against yours as he asks, “Can I?”

“Please.”

He smiles at your daunted expression. “Can I take these off?” he asks you, his fingertip running under the edge of your underwear. “Please?” he teases.

Your skin is a furnace, hot hot hot everywhere he touches as you nod your permission and Remus undresses you, one piece of clothing at a time. Your trousers, your shirt. Your bra, your underwear. His fingers slip in his ardency as he tears out of his own button down.

Your thumb traces a scar.

He looks up from your chest, startled, but you aren’t giving him anything he doesn’t want. There’s no pity in your gaze, no curiosity, no sadness. Just lust, your trembling hands pulling his slacks down the lengths of his thighs.

He pulls the condom from his wallet in his pocket and lets it fall to the floor.

Remus hooks his hands under your arms and urges you back against the headboard, a pillow behind your head, your thighs tipping open as his hand runs down between them. He grabs at them greedily, handfuls of fat that have his mouth dry as a bone.

“Has anyone ever done this to you before?” he asks. He needs to know.

You squeeze your eyes closed and shake your head.

Fuck. “Hey, look at me,” he says, waiting for your eyes to meet before continuing. “I just want to make you feel good. If I don’t, you let me know.”

He waits for you to answer aloud. “I will,” you say, your hand behind his back and urging him forward. “Please.”

“What did I say?” he jokes gently, letting his weight bear down on you again.

He closes his eyes, his lips in what feels like a new home at the juncture of your neck. His hands skirt dangerously close to your heat.

He’s gentle. He rubs a sweeping line against your cunt with the front of his fingers, heart hammering fast as a mouse’s when he finds the little button of your clit. You shiver and shudder and squirm as he toys with you, your fingers steadfast against the plane of his back while he opens you up. His lips part in tandem, not nearly as kind as his hands. His teeth scratch against your throat.

Your soft moans move through him as he hickeys over your pulse, chasing each capering thud of blood. He winds you up. You’re snug around his fingers, fluttering, and he knows he’s probed something sweet when your breath catches and you whine.

“Was that alright?” he asks.

You nod, heavy headed, and lick your lips as he tears open the condom and eases it onto his cock, one measured roll at a time.

“Can you– I want you to–” You turn your face from him, the line of your jaw kissed by the lamplight outside, and the rest hidden.

He drags you down to lay flat on your back and holds himself over you, nudging his nose against yours until you lift your head. Face to face, he gives himself time to adore the shape and colour of your eyes, the side of his hand brushing along your cheek. “Do you think you’re ready?” he asks sincerely. The slickness between your legs is obvious, but he doesn’t want to blindside you. “It will feel…”

You nod, saving him the explanation. It will feel weird. Good, but foreign. “Will you kiss me again?” you ask feebly.

He can’t stop himself. He kisses your lips sore, his hand behind the crook of your knee pushing your leg up toward your stomach as he slides into the space he’s made there. He breaks the kiss to listen to your breathing as he pushes forward.

Remus hadn’t been lying — he wants it to feel good. He takes it slow, his thrusting almost languid as you get to grips with the feeling. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, struggling to smother the moan that escapes him as he feels you clench around him. You gasp, your arms tightening around his waist, destroying any semblance of space between your sweat-damp bodies as you hold him tight. He murmurs praises in your ear, his forearms tucked beneath your shoulder blades, hands gripping your shoulders a touch too hard. He can’t remember the last time he was this close to somebody, can’t remember ever feeling so maddeningly lost, like he’s one good push from hurtling over the edge.

He kisses your cheek, calling you all the things he’d been too scared to say before. “Lovely girl,” he pants, “how’s that feel?” And, when you answer, “Yeah, you’re taking it so well, dove. Think you can take a little more?”

All that nervousness and desperation shrinks down to dust, and the smiling girl he’d been with at dinner comes to the forefront. There’s no mistaking it. You giggle something awful and turn your face into his, kissing him between sounds, dizzying him with the tender scratch of your nails down his back as he starts to move.

“There she is,” he says lightly, almost smirking. “Feel good?”

“Feels– oh,” —you shiver violently, filled all the way up— “feels good.”

Remus let’s his forehead fall to your chin, his eyes closed in pleasure, his cock to the hilt. Every move he makes evokes a near sinful sound from you, mewling, silvery whimpers and pleased little laughs when he angles his hips right. He’s a mess, desperate to cum from the second you touched him and running on stolen time as he presses you deep into your mattress. One of your hands flies backward into the pillows and scrunches up into a ball, the look on your face too tempting to ignore.

The first time you fuck someone — it’s never timed right. Remus knows he hasn’t quite figured you out, but he knows enough to get you where he wants you. He slides his hand between your bodies and your soft cunt to draw circles into your clit, entranced by your twitching lashes as the pleasure builds. You chase him with your hips, and he grabs your hand at the last second to stop you from covering your mouth, holding it above your head as you come apart.

He cooes at you. The sound you make — the breathless little cry that leaves you, your hips jutting up to meet him. He’s at your mercy, just like he said.

Remus fucks into the extra tightness, drawing your climax out for as long as he can. You’re smiling as you shove his arm away, a playful chastisement that wanes when you see the look on his face. “Are you close?” you ask, brushing a curled strand of hair from his eyes.

Close? Remus is fucked.

“You can go faster,” you say, “rougher, whatever you want.”

“Shit,” he hisses, leaning back.

His rutting hips slap the backs of your thighs. He squeezes your waist, his eyes fixed on your cunt as it pulls him in. One last wavering, “Oh, fuck,” from you is all it takes for Remus to lose it. White hot pleasure tightens his whole body, his abdomen aflame. You scramble to gather him back into your arms. You kiss him, swallowing his resulting string of moans.

He has to catch his breath afterward. You comb the hair back from his face, your eyes droopy with pleasure.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, voice stringy.

“Of course not.” You’re quickly losing your confidence. Remus hates it, but he understands. This vulnerability can only stretch so far.

“Let me clean you up,” he says.

“You look like you’re gonna fall over if you stand.”

He strokes your face with the back of his ring finger, his nail ghosting along the highest point of your cheek. “Funny,” he says dryly.

He gets confused in your bathroom, and you won’t let him towel you off, but when he lies down beside you with his boxers back in place you don’t push him away. You drop your face into his chest and curl up.

He drags the quilt over your naked back.

Was that okay? he wants to ask. “Sore?” he worries instead.

“Don’t think so.”

He chews his cheek. “You’re alright?”

You stir, looking up at him through your lashes. He thinks you’re the kind of pretty people might not always see. You’re clearly beautiful, but there’s something else to it. The way you move, maybe. The way your eyes smile before your lips can catch up.

“I’m fine. I’m good… Can I…”

He hums. “What?”

“Could I kiss you again?”

You speak so quietly, he hears the vibration in your throat more than the sound of your voice. It’s endearingly timid. He feels his attraction for you flare violently.

He wants to ask you to come with him to Cardiff. He knows he can’t. It’s yards too soon, but for a second he entertains the thought.

“Wait for me to come home,” he says. He’s still asking for more than he should. “I want to see you again. You can kiss me as much as you want, if you say you’ll wait.”

You nod immediately. Not a flicker of reluctance to be seen.

You lift your chin and kiss him. He tries to make it the kind of kiss worth waiting for.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging cos it helps more than you might think <3

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clipartdinosaur · 1 year ago

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Griddlehark Fics

I have read an absolutely insane amount of Griddlehark fanfics in the past few months so I figured I could make a like...list of all of my favorites that I bookmarked. I'm not sure if anyone will use this but if anything it will be for my own self-indulgence LOL. Just a heads up, this list WILL contain spoilers up to Nona the Ninth, so proceed with your own discretion. Anyway here we go!

(♥︎ = favorite!)

Short (<15k):

"By the Sword" by JeanLuciferGohard (2.6k)

The Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, Necrosaint, Ascended, the greatest bone adept in an Age, does one push-up, and collapses. Harrow does not beg for her cavalier. Harrow rakes her hair back and snarls, “Nav, I am going to unzip your cranial sutures. One by one. And zip them up again sideways.”

"Your Necro Questions Answered" by Magichorse (8.8k)

Syndicated columnist "Nav the Cav" offers a sympathetic ear to cavaliers across the galaxy and dispenses practical, no-nonsense, real talk advice on how to properly manage and care for your necromancer.

"A Lesson in Bones" by Magichorse (3.8k)

One of the laboratory trials at Canaan House compels Harrowhark to swap bodies with her cavalier. What will Gideon do with the power of the most talented bone adept in generations at her disposal? Nothing good, probably.

"Visions of Gideon" by tothewillofthepeople (13k)

Oh my god they were roommates...

"true love's kiss, or something equally nauseating" by corpsesoldier (4.6k)

She was where she needed to be. She was going to pull her necro out of this godforsaken tomb, end the game of musical bodies they were playing, and then everything would be all right. Harrow would be alive. And Gideon was going to give her shit for approximately the next myriad for not just taking what she’d offered and saving them a whole lot of trouble.

"The Big Warm Dark" by decalexas (haelstorm) (2.7k)

Gideon Nav knows how to swing a longsword, brandish a rapier, bridge the gap between life and death, punch the dead in the face, and maybe overthrow an Empire along the way. What she doesn't know how to do is reach for the girl who made all of this possible.

"carrion comfort, despair (not feast on thee)" by NotAFicWriter (5k)

Some time after Alecto wakes, Harrow and Gideon finally have a moment to speak to one another. Hearts are bared. Teeth are bared. Intentions are bared. It all comes at great personal cost (emotional honesty).

"never exhale all the way" by pigflight (1.2k)

Harrowhark paints Gideon's face.

"such an almighty sound" by CountingNothings (10k)♥︎

“I need you to marry me,” Harrow says, a propos of absolutely nothing that Gideon can see. And, uh, okay, this is not what childhood best frenemies say to each other upon discovering that both of their graduate programs have weird residence requirements. “What,” Gideon asks, “the fuck?”

"A Handsomely Dangerous Thing" by zoicite (1.5k)

Had Harrow ever looked at Gideon and felt pride before? Surely not. It sat like a tumor in her chest, a cancerous lump that had grown where it did not belong.

"How it didn't happen" by Nary (1.5k)

"How did you lose it?" Coronabeth asked, more softly than her sister's shrill voice. The group assembled at Canaan House barely knew her, and yet here they were, asking the most irritatingly personal questions, and acting as if they were being kind and thoughtful by prying into her secrets. "I dropped my pen into a vat of acid and reached in to grab it without thinking," Harrow said dryly. Coronabeth recoiled, screwing up her pretty nose. Ianthe looked unsure whether to believe her or not. Their meatslab of cavalier just stared blankly. "The Daughter of the Ninth House was blessed in this manner from her birth, as a symbol of her strength and power over the mysteries of necromancy," Ortus interjected. Harrow glared at him. "Oh," Coronabeth said, an expression of disgusting sympathy on her flawless face. "But then you would never have known who your soulmate was!" Harrow's glare intensified. "My soulmate is bones."

"Halcyon Nights" by Morike91 (10k)

It was hard to tell what was worse: feeling the full warmth of those unguarded honey eyes fall on Harrow, or watching them narrow in recognition and contempt, their warmth now hotter with something else. “What can I get you?” It has been at least four years since Harrow last heard the voice of Gideon Nav, but it was still as familiar as her right hand.

"I completely fucking hate you" by ClaraZorEl (7.5k)

In the coming weeks, Harrowhark learns an unfortunate great deal about Gideon Nav. The kind of porn she likes, the number of bread rolls she can fit into her mouth at once, that she always leans too heavily on her left leg when she fights but can do fifty-seven push-ups in a row without stopping, that her biceps rates 11/10 on the scale of good biceps, that her laugh rumbles like an army of skeletons, and most importantly, that she can’t fucking stand her. Gideon Nav is so grating that Harrow has no doubt she will be her undoing. OR Harrowhark Nonagesimus has been invited to Canaan University's ball. But to successfully represent her house, she needs a cavalier, and unfortunately, her only option is her least favourite barista from her least favourite coffee shop.

"A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them" by pipistrelle (7k)

"In the end, she poisoned Ortus; so it was Harrow Nova who walked out to the shuttle a half-step behind the Daughter of the Ninth, the chain of Samael Novenary wound about her offhand wrist, the black blade of the Ninth at her side."

"The Only Prayer We Know" by pipistrelle (12k) [Part 2 of "A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them"]

It's like a bad joke: two cavaliers (alive) and two necromancers (one dead) walk into a rebel faction of humanity, looking for a new life -- in every sense of the phrase. What they find is each other, and (in some cases) themselves.

"The Flames of Hell Are Warm" by silverapples (7k)

In which Harrow is a repressed evangelical Christian and Gideon performs burlesque in a lesbian nightclub. Feat. nipple pasties, chewing gum, and a steaming mug of gay coffee (wake up and smell it, Harrow).

"Necro Business" by rnanqo (1.6k) ♥︎

“Gideon,” you said carefully, “I will need to examine your mouth. Various structures, primarily the jaw, but also the lingual muscles—the tongue—” You stopped there. Your cheeks were going red, probably with indignity. “Yeah,” I said, a bit too loudly, “yeah, sure. Do it.”

"Holy Cross, Alaska" by softieghost (10k) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Harrow meets Gideon. They go through it together.

"my love will be your armor" by TheKnightsWhoSayBook (2.3k)

"The princess has a right to bestow her favor on whoever she wishes to win a match," Gideon tells her. "Are you going to?" "Why would I? I don't want to marry him," Harrow answers bitterly. "Do you want me to win?" Princess Harrow will be engaged to the winner of the tournament, and her only champion is her useless bodyguard Sir Gideon Nav, who isn't going to save her. Unless...?

"The Meaning Of The Word" by pipistrelle (8.4k)

Harrow, along with a good percentage of Canaan University's necromancy students, has the flu. Gideon has a lot of feelings that she is in no way equipped to handle. It's a tough week.

"(i shine only with the light you gave me)" by sashawire (1.7k) ♥︎

God prods, gently, “Even just starting with their physical description, and we can go from there.” “Imagine,” you say, from somewhere outside your body, “the worst shade of orange you’ve ever seen in your life.” * Harrowhark receives her saintly title.

"i will learn to love the shears" by corpsesoldier (4.7k)

The avulsion trial left Harrow's hair in a sorry state and Gideon offers up her expertise with a blade. Or, Gideon gives Harrow a haircut.

"The Titty Texts: A Work of a Stupendous Titty Nature" by EleniaTrexer (3k)

Gideon accidentally sends Harrow boobs. And then just keeps on sending them.

"can we start over?" by breeeliss (10k)

Gideon needs a tutor. Harrow needs someone to get her out of college gym class. All in all, a pretty straightforward arrangement to make with your ex.

"Dark Mode Enabled" by senseoftheday (12k)

Tech Company AU in which a certain Sales bro with no filter decides to ruin Harrow's life (and feature roadmap) by initiating the cross-functional project from hell. At least, Gideon has the decency to work remotely, and Harrow's new office crush makes some pretty great coffee.

"deconsecrated graves" by emotionsandphenomena (4k)

Gideon and Harrow got out of the cult they were raised in. Okay, what's next?

"settle up in heaven" by liesmyth (3k) ♥︎

“Isn’t this arrogance, Harrow?” Kiriona says. “Think you could fix what God couldn’t?”

"Quoth the Maiden" by Sarsaparilla (10.9k)

The bold outlaws Nova Hawk and Gideon meet for the first time on a narrow log-bridge. But is it really their first meeting? Or: what if Robin Hood and Little John were both lesbians?

"twice in a blue moon" by sinshine (8.7k) ♥︎

Gideon snapped out of her depressing reverie and blinked at her. "That's a really good idea." "Obviously," said Harrow, and it was only a little bit condescending. "Step one, sneak out of the party. Step two, acquire the necessary items at a store. Step three–" Harrow gestured vaguely at the deer in Gideon's hands– "And step four, profit." [G&H rush to fix a smashed snow globe that Dulcinea made so that Cam doesn't kill them before the clock strikes midnight at their NYE party. The fact that Gideon is back in her hometown after a long time away and she and Harrow have unresolved romantic tension is secondary and definitely won't be a problem.]

"It Came From Planet Slut" by LockedTombMemes (8k)

Well. Evidently going undercover to an Idan society fling in order to deliver a message to a high-profile BoE agent was a tits-out kind of look.

"Apostate's Yuletide" by sinshine (12.6k)♥︎

Gideon raised one eyebrow comically high. She smiled easily, erasing any hint of the anxiety that Harrow might have sensed. "What's with all the questions today?" Harrow huffed indignantly and fidgeted with the blanket draped across her lap, worrying the frayed hem with her fingers. "I thought your ego would appreciate the interest." "Yeah, but it's weird coming from you. I'm used to you monologuing, not playing twenty questions." "Perhaps it's a Christmas miracle," suggested Harrow, with an expression so absolutely devoid of joy that Gideon couldn't help but laugh. [Harrow and Gideon burn down a church on Xmas.]

"when it's over" by Adertily (2.5k)

Harrowhark had sworn to herself to live to see the girl in the locked tomb awaken. Alecto has risen. Now God is dead, along with everyone who had ever been dear to her - and Gideon has returned as a distorted creature. The war is over. Harrow wishes she could be too. Or: A character study based on Harrow's suicidal ideation and Gideon's determination to never run anywhere unless she absolutely has to.

"Supernova Bloom!" by sinshine (13k)

"It's just for a week, and then you never have to see me again," said Gideon. "I don't have time to find anyone else." And, "Please." Slowly, Harrow took her hand off the door and cautiously turned around. Gideon watched a dozen unspoken questions flicker across her face. She voiced none of them, but eventually settled on an expression of grim resignation. "I suppose I could suffer you for a week." [Gideon needs help getting her new flower shop ready for the grand opening. Harrow needs cash.]

"I still need your teeth around my organs" by sinshine (7.8k)

Although she was a beloved Daughter and a talented necromancer, Gideon's greatest vice was that she dearly loved to fuck around and find out. Knowing this, perhaps it shouldn't have been as shocking when she lifted one of Nova's hands, flipped it over, and kissed her palm. [4 times Gideon kisses Harrow, 1 time Harrow kisses Gideon]

"cuckoo, cuckoo" by sashawire (1.2k)

What Wake gives it is not a name. To do so would be a moronic, unnecessary cruelty. But she does deign to give it the microscopic dignity of a title, a goal, a purpose. Bomb. Eighteen years later, in the rubble of a once-sacred home, Harrowhark Nonagesimus reaches up and touches Gideon Nav’s grit-covered, blood-rimed face, splits a laugh like the world is ending, and calls her “flower.” * Six times God's unwanted daughter was nicknamed, and once she wasn't.

"my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear" by sashawire (<1k) ♥︎

Gideon chomps into her tongue as hard as she can convince herself, stifling a very dignified squawk. Her eyes water, Emperor’s left tit that fucking hurts, but—it works. Blood weeps from the bite marks, creeping down the back of her throat, up into her nasal cavity, staining her teeth. Okay. She has blood in her mouth. Blood that, somehow, needs to get into Harrow’s mouth. * Step #6: Consume the flesh.

"fifteen percent concentrated power of will" by surreptitiously (9k)

Teaching someone to do a push-up is a love language, when that person is very annoying.

"GHAZAL WHERE I'M BEGGING YOU TO TOUCH ME" by igneousbitch (12k)

You had your body and I had mine, and it was a miracle. Your hands against my face were a miracle. The rest of your meat attached to your hands was a prayer answered and a promise broken, but we were flush and gasping and alive, and Harrow—I really thought you might’ve kissed me then. But I felt it happen. The way your breath suddenly stilled, and your body locked up beneath mine, remembering. How with splintering gentleness, you pushed me away. “I’m so sorry,” was the second thing you said upon waking. The first thing had been my name. Stranded in a safehouse on an Edenite moon, Gideon and Harrow try to put themselves back together.

"catch you on the flip side, sugar lips" by corpsesoldier (4.9k)

Maybe if Harrow's brain runs enough scenarios, she'll find a way to keep what she's lost.

"hand to heart, I swear" by corpsesoldier (5k)

Gideon has a broken heart, and there's only one necromancer who can fix it.

Medium (15-30k)

"If you're doing it right you'll break their ribs" by almostnectarine (22.4k)

"How do you know Nonagesimus has gone somewhere dangerous?" asked Isaac. "Have you wired some kind of alert system?" "It's, uh. It's on the schedule," said Gideon. "I just... forgot. Because of the bread." Nobody was convinced by this, least of all Gideon. "It's a Ninth House thing," Gideon went on, backing away with increasing desperation. This was a slightly more plausible explanation, if only because nobody wanted to look too closely at what fell under the awful skeletal-ribbed and rotting umbrella of Ninth House things. "Gotta go—!" And she was out the door, gone. But it wasn't a Ninth House thing, except inasmuch as it was happening to the only two representatives of the noble and decrepit Ninth House on this quite literally godforsaken rock. Gideon knew Harrow had gone somewhere dangerous—knew that Harrow was back in the lab where they had only just completed a horrible trial—because she could see it, clear as day: an awful overlay on her vision of that terrible dangerous room and a pair of terrible dangerous hands drawing some kind of ward next to the plinth. The hands were definitely Harrow's. This was definitely a problem.

"If Home Is Where the Heart Is (Then We're All Just Fucked)" by JeanLuciferGohard (17k) ♥︎

When Gideon Nav gets a call that her ex-girlfriend, who never bothered to change her designated emergency contact, is in the hospital, she goes against her better judgement and responds. Everything after that just gets more complicated.

"blue gray green lavender" by smolranger (29k) ♥︎

Laser Radial sailor Gideon Nav just wants pass her classes, win a few regattas, and keep her head down. FJ sailor Harrowhark Nonagesimus has grand plans to qualify for the Olympics, preserve her parent's legacy, and save her home town. Despite the ties binding them together, the two have kept their college lives carefully separate for two years. But when Harrow's helm, Ortus, suffers a concussion mid-way through the fall season, their carefully separated lives collide. Harrow needs someone capable of taking Ortus' place for the remainder of the season or her Olympic dreams — and Canaan College's entire sail team — are in peril. And Gideon is her only option.

"Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" by zoicite (24k)

Harrow and Gideon and times they have (and also have not) shared a bed over the years.

"Disney World, Florida" by softieghost (24.6k) [Part 2 of "Holy Cross, Alaska"]

After the events of Alaska, Harrow thanks Gideon the only way she knows how: devotion. -- Chapter 3: The journey concludes. More confessions.

"we've got a good thing goin' " by sinshine (14.6k) ♥︎

“Not to sound ungrateful, but being here makes me wish that you had left me for dead,” said Harrow. Gideon had been staring hard at the face of the fountain’s statue. She was pretty sure that it was carved in the likeness of Naberius himself, but she didn’t want to say it out loud and make it true. She shook her head and turned to Harrow. “Leaving me to live out eternity in your bony sock puppet of a body? Hard pass.” Palamedes and Camilla shared a look. It was the mutual understanding of two people who had been trapped in close quarters with the bickering of Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus for far too long. [Team 69 hide out in Babs's vacation home. Because it's not like he's using it anyway.]

"Cake by the Ocean" by zoicite (15k)♥︎

Okay, so the thing was, Gideon had always been shit at plans. She knew that. Everyone knew that, but this--she really didn’t think it would be this hard! Gideon’s voice was like the least memorable thing about her. Bargaining her voice for a well-shaped set of human legs--that really should have worked in her favor.

"careful fear and (un)dead devotion" by sinshine (23k)

[Gideon and Harrow wake up back in their own bodies but both of them are missing large parts of their memory. Camilla tries not to kill everyone.]

"who ya gonna call?" by igneousbitch (24k)

“Fret not, honeybun.” Gideon shook her red hair out of her eyes, belligerent. “I’m not totally sold on your whole skepticism thing.” “Well,” Harrow said, ignoring the nickname. She turned to the rest of the room, clearing her throat politely before addressing the empty air. “Ghosts, if you’re real, give us a sign. Make a noise. Move something. Send a shiver down our backs. Whisper softly into Nav’s left ear—” “I seriously fucking hate you.” - (Casual sex and paranormal investigation. Not necessarily in that order.) (or: the Buzzfeed Unsolved AU in which Gideon is ready to fight a ghost, and Harrow just wants to be haunted.)

Long(>30k):

"Beneath a Blue and Foreign Sky" by zoicite (35k)

Harrow has a decision to make.

"A Heart Full Of Sutures" by Rohad (40k)

All Gideon wanted was to get outside and ride her motorcycle. No part of that plan had included eight weeks in Canaan Medical Center with a broken Pelvis and the meanest little doctor this side of the eastern seabord.

"Midnight at the Mithraeum" by zoicite (66k) ♥︎

It'd been two years since Gideon Nav gathered her wine key and her gaming license and escaped The Locked Tomb, a speakeasy-style cocktail bar managed by the hateful Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Now, dealing tables at The Mithraeum Hotel & Casino, things were really looking up. So when Gideon scored a date with the most beautiful showgirl in the Gilded Halls of Ida, the last thing she expected was to wake up married to her old nemesis and former coworker. The story starts the night of Gideon's date and alternates between the events leading up to the wedding and the weeks that follow as Gideon tries to navigate life married to someone who claims to want nothing more than to forget she exists.

"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" by pipistrelle (90k)

Being the journal of Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus, chronicling the journey of the Emperor's warship Cenotaph on its hunt to slay an immortal Resurrection Beast. Or: the Moby Dick crossover AU that nobody asked for.

"The Darkest Night, The Brightest Light" by eternaleponine (50k)

Harrowhark has known for a long time that her home's financial situation is dire, and not getting better. She has plans to fix it all, but can't implement them until she turns eighteen in a few months. When her parents announce that the best (perhaps only) way to save Drearburh is to marry off its heir, Harrow realizes the timeline has changed and she needs to take action now to save her home... and herself. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. Enter Gideon Nav. Detested foe, and Harrow's only hope.

"putting your fist through a thick sheet of glass (i know you don't want to)" by oretsev (46k)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus and Gideon Nav have always been at each other’s throats, and the animosity has only intensified since the death of Harrow’s parents. But when a car accident leaves Gideon without any memories of her past, Harrow sees a chance at the clean slate she’s wanted for years. Becoming involved in Gideon’s recovery assuages some of the guilt, but as she and Gideon become closer and increasingly involved in each other's lives, Harrow worries that some of her secrets may be more than she can atone for.

Ongoing:

"semi-charmed kinda life" by strangedelight (182k+) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Gideon asked questions. Harrow surprised her with answers. They reached an agreement; they decided to be smart, to be patient. Gideon made a promise, Harrow gave her one in return. Wait and see. OR the year is 1994, and Gideon and Harrow leave their small town for life in the city. OR team 69 roommates au only this time it's the 90s

"Intern the Sixth" by apocalypticTaco (33k+)

ADDRESSING THE HEIR TO THE NINTH HOUSE, OR PRESUMED EQUIVALENT: PALAMEDES SEXTUS, HEIR TO THE SIXTH HOUSE, PRESENTS HIS COMPLIMENTS TO THE NINTH AND REQUESTS A FORMAL ARRANGEMENT WHEREIN HIS MASTER WARDEN AND CAVALIER APPRENTICESHIP UNDER THE NINTH FOR FOUR YEARS IN EXCHANGE FOR THE SIXTH’S SERVICES. *Details to be discussed. Please turn to back page. Timeframe variable. Services and agreements variable upon the Ninth's request. An internship of this caliber is highly unprecedented and likely unheard of, but any information valuable to the Ninth and into the Tomb will remain undisclosed upon request; Primary experience and study is required as the Master Warden has already decided upon such being his final thesis prior to his end studies. No takebacks, no denials. Pleased to meet you. Palamedes Sextus, Heir to the Sixth and Master Warden and Camilla the Sixth, Cavalier Primary and Warden's Hand of the Library

TO THE MASTER WARDEN: FORMALLY REJECTED.

"What's Eating Gideon Nav?" by labyrinthineRetribution (40k+)

After a miserable fifteen years at Blessed Saint Anastasia's School for Girls, Gideon's luck finally changes.

"We Have Always Lived in the Apartment" by labyrinthineRetribution (171k+)

John looks up from his Jack and Coke in drunken curiosity. "What's with the face, Harrowhark?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Contrary to popular belief," Gideon butts in, "her face just fuckin' looks like that, bitch." She tends to use "bitch" as liberally as commas when off her ass. "You're piss drunk," you shoot back. "And you, my good bitch, are just as contemptible as the day you clawed your way up from Hell." - It is Harrowhark Nonagesimus' birthday, and it only gets worse from there.

PWP (basically):

"I'll hold in these hands all that remains" by corvidlesbian (6.5k) ♥︎

“Do you want me to try?” Gideon said. “What?” “You got all hot and bothered without me trying. Do you want me to try?” Their newfound habit of cuddling gets interesting.

"sting of a wasp" by brightbolt, imperfectlyctor (42k) ♥︎

"You’re a virgin,” Gideon said, testing it out. "Huh." Harrow didn’t like the sound of that huh. She knew Gideon’s noises, and that was a thoughtful, sinister huh. That was the same huh she’d made before putting canned tuna in Crux’s work boots. Her eyes narrowed. “What.” Gideon cocked her head to the side. “Is there a reason you’re waiting?” There was no judgement in the question— only genuine curiosity. Perhaps it was this that made Harrow more inclined to answer. “I don’t have the time to look for someone new,” She shrugged. “And my available pool is… somewhat limited.” “Well,” Gideon said, with just a hint of conspiracy in those glittering golden eyes. “If you ever want to change that, you have my number.” What? What? Harrow blinked. “What?” Or: the five times Gideon and Harrow successfully bone, and the one time they don't.

"Suckle, Honey" by zoicite (7.9k)

“You crave my juice,” Gideon accused. “I do not crave your juice.” “Fuck, you do though. You went off to explore that study alone, without your cavalier, using a key that I nearly gave my life for, and then you snorted some powder that made you crave my juice! Harrow. I never would have let you sniff powder from a ten thousand year old jar.” This was untrue--Gideon probably wouldn’t have noticed Harrow breathing in a puff of jar powder until it was too late--but it sounded like something Camilla Hect might say, so Gideon went with it anyway. Camilla definitely would have stopped Palamedes from accidentally sniffing old as fuck Eighth House jarred juice addiction powder.

"Five Times We Hatefucked and One Time We Didn't" by rnanqo (8k)

“Fuck you,” you said. “Fuck me yourself, you coward.” You ran a hand through my hair, fisted it, and pulled my head up. From here I had a spectacular view of your weird blown-out seething expression, like I was the worst thing you’d ever seen. Also a view up your blood-crusted nostrils. Choice. “Maybe I will, Griddle,” you said. “Maybe I will stop fucking you over and start fucking you." Gideon and Harrow realize, abruptly, that their hatefucking is no longer hatefucking.

"a call to motion" by groundedsaucer (coasterchild) (10k) ♥︎

Harrow and Gideon watch a porno.

"put her canine teeth in the side of my neck" by stranded_star (8.8k)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus is getting a PhD and a divorce. Against her better judgment, she goes out to the bar to celebrate and meets an incorrigible, absolutely ripped salt-and-paprika butch who takes her home and gives it to her good. To her horror, it's the best night of her life, and she sneaks home with her tail between her legs. Harrow has more important things to worry about - like raising her daughter and building the next stages of her career. But when her daughter's favorite teacher, someone named Griddle, turns about to be the Gideon she met at the bar, she's forced to contend with allowing herself (and her daughter) to find the happy ending she never thought they'd have. Featuring MILF!Harrow, Teacher!Gideon, and a very amused Camilla Hect.

"The Wound That Swallows" by seelieunseelie (7.8k)

Harrow can make out an uncomfortable amount of detail about Gideon’s body beneath. Powerful, strong as ever, yet somehow vulnerable for its supplication below Harrow’s. “Are we gonna get this over with?” Gideon says in a voice softly scratchy. She blushes then when Harrow sits on the edge of the bed. “It will hurt,” Harrow says. “Yeah,” Gideon says. “I think I can handle it.”

#holy shit this is way longer than i thought it would be #uhm i literally gave myself a headache i sat here for like 3 hours doing this #that being said if you have any fic recs lmk LOL #griddlehark #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #the locked tomb #tlt #tlt fic #tlt fanfiction #griddlehark fanfic #rec #long post

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thesportsprgirl · 19 days ago

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One thing I'm really tired of is how a certain subset of Lando fans infantilize him in ways that make it seem like he isn't a fully functioning adult who manages a very high stress job and has started multiple successful businesses. (Usually it's from the Landoscar part of his fanbase, which pains me to say because I actually really like Oscar but I'm so tired of the narrative that Lando is incapable without Oscar around as some like to imply).

There was even a moment on Max's stream a couple of months ago where the chat kept telling Lando to go to sleep because it was a race weekend and both Max AND Lando made it clear that he's actually quite capable of knowing when to go to sleep as a literal grown man.

I know that when Lando joined F1 he was a teenager and had a very mentor/older brother-like relationship with his teammate. But there's this ongoing narrative that Lando needs Oscar to like... adult for him or something? Lando sat on a panel at the World Economic Forum yesterday and was one of the youngest panelists across the entire conference. A conference full of CEOs and former heads of state. And he more than held his own on that stage.

It's one thing when it's in fanfic spaces, that's fine to me. Lately those fanfic narratives seem to be seeping into Twitter and Instagram more and more (in the last few weeks a VERY large account tweeted that another friend of Lando's was jealous that there are 10k fanfics where Lando gets backshots and none are about him). It's getting a little weird.

And the "Lando cant adult without Oscar" is condescending and demeaning. Lando is smart as hell, super accomplished, and can adult just fine by himself, thank you very much.

Sometimes it just seems like a means to putting Lando down to boost others up and it's something we wouldn't tolerate from his haters so why are people piling on as his fans? People that hate on him love to diminish his intelligence or his maturity. Why are his fans giving them ammunition in order to force a fanfic narrative into non-fanfic spaces?

#lando norris #its getting weird and annoying

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hyunebunx · 3 months ago

Text

maybe it's not our fault - chapter 01

── synopsis: after a nasty breakup that’s left you completely shattered, you’re set on giving up on love forever. That is until, in a surprising turn of events, your respective best friends start dating and one of their main goals is to restore the peace in your broken relationship. Will their plan succeed? Will they manage to play cupid and get you and your high school sweetheart back together, or will it all backfire and result in the end of their own love story?

There is only one way to find out. If only your beloved’s heart wasn’t already broken beyond repair…

╰─▸ ❝ pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader

╰─▸ ❝ content: exes to lovers, angst, mutual pining, fluff, suggestive themes, drama and heartbreak, jock!hyunjin who is captain of the uni's football team + dance major!hyunjin, college au, lack of communication.

╰─▸ ❝ word count: 10k

╰─▸ ❝chapter 02

a/n: it's here!! special thank you to my croissant baby laure @byunfirstlady (this wouldn't be a me story if i didn't mention her somehow fgfdgh) for reading this for me before posting!! since this is the first chapter, things might feel a little slow, but dw, it will all pick up soon! enjoy <33 and do let me know your thoughts after reading <3

“That is not going to fit!”

He scoffs, already annoyed. “Yes, it is! Just move over a little.”

“A little? I’m already stretched the fuck out! What more do you want from me?”

“Seohyun, I swear to fucking God – “

She yelps, most likely cramping. “Just pull it out, you dumbass – “

“What the hell is going on in here?”

You and Chan stop dead in your tracks, confused at the scene currently playing out in front of your very eyes. You were gone downstairs for less than ten minutes to get the rest of your stuff, with you and Chan carrying a box each that held the essentials to ensure this move went smoothly. And in that time frame, your two other best friends have already managed to be at each other’s throats.

The front door of your apartment was wide open, with dumb and dumber currently looking like two deers caught in headlights on opposite sides, separated by an old armchair whose springs had become a death trap over the years. Last year, when you held parties here, someone was always left standing — it was either the cursed chair or the floor, with most guests picking the latter once they were drunk enough.

“Uh, hi?” Jisung greets, forcing a smile onto boyish features that haven’t changed much since you met almost seven years ago, in high school.

Bewiled, you set the box down by Chan’s feet and approach. “Are you guys, okay? What happened?”

Whistling, Jisung tries to pretend he has everything under control. He doesn’t, he never does, that’s just the type of guy he was. “Duh, we’re fantastic! Everything is under control, don’t even – “

Called it.

“For the love of god, just shut up and let them help us already!” Seohyun barks from the other side, prompting you to peek in to see her straighten her posture, rubbing her wrists in obvious discomfort. With a sigh and a glare from Jisung who steps back to allow Chan to take his place, she explains. “We were trying to get this chair out to make room for the new one.”

Chuckling, Chan inspects the door frame while you pass Seohyun one of the boxes right over the ugly, red chair that’s seen better days. “And it got stuck?”

“Yes, because Jisung didn’t want to listen – “

“Or maybe because you started pushing when I wasn’t ready, like an idiot.” He counters instantly, never one to back out from a fight instigated by Seohyun. Not to be fooled, these two were as close as can be, the bickering reflective of their special bond.

You and Chan share a look as they start again, amusement clear in gentle, doe eyes that have comforted you numerous times over the years. Meeting back in the summer before high school, you and Chan have been attached at the hip ever since, clicking as pre-teens and growing up together, maturing down the same path that’s led you to the same university, and even the same major you also shared with Jisung. Music production has always been a passion of yours, so getting to fulfil that dream with your absolute best friend by your side was a blessing you couldn’t be more thankful for.

“Alright.” Chan stops their bickering, one hand landing on Jisung’s shoulder to get his attention. “Stand on it.”

“Pardon?” Jisung blinks at him, as confused as you and Seohyun were, not sure he heard Chan right.

Smiling, Chan squeezes his shoulder. “So, you can step on the backrest and make it fall over. It will be easier to move afterwards.”

“You think so?” He asks, biting down on his bottom lip, not confident in the slightest.

Your best friend nods, giving his bottom an encouraging pat. “Positively. Now go on, I don’t want to spend my whole day in this hallway.”

Seohyun scrambles back, unwilling to get caught in between Jisung and the chair, giving him enough room to do what he must to free her exit.

Watching the whole scene unfold has you smiling from ear to ear, struggling to keep your laughter at bay once Jisung realizes the task isn’t as dangerous as he expected. It’s anticlimactic, more than anything, as he gets on top of the chair to step on the backrest, going down slowly without even losing his balance.

He blinks, barely realizing it’s over before making eye contact with Seohyun who bursts out laughing like she’s been holding it in since the beginning. The three of you join in quickly after, your delight bouncing off the hallway walls and lifting the spirits tremendously.

After all, nobody in existence was ever excited for summer to end and classes to start again, with a new, even more demanding schedule than last year. You were in your third year now and things were bound to get difficult the closer you got to graduating.

This silly moment was exactly what you needed to start the new year right, sure it would become a core memory later down the line when you’d all be working adults, with even more responsibilities and nonexistent free time. The sight of Chan dragging the armchair out, without any difficulty whatsoever as Jisung and Seohyun’s jaws hit the floor, incredulous he didn’t struggle like they did, was sure to bring a smile to your face for years to come.

When your only access to the apartment was finally free, the four of you gathered inside with the remaining boxes.

“You weren’t kidding, you do have all of your stuff here.” Seohyun hums, scanning her surroundings, and her new home. The apartment was yours. You moved in just last year and you’ve lived by yourself until now, when you welcomed her with open arms and a little too much excitement.

“Yeah.” You nod, already moving around to put the scattered things back in their rightful places. “Sorry about the mess. I didn’t bother cleaning up before leaving.”

The living room was fine – your bedroom was the one that suffered the most, already dreading the thought of having to dig through all the mess to find most of your things.

The apartment was a gift from your parents, after successfully finishing your first year of university living in a dorm. Sure, having your own space was great, but you’d never trade that first year for anything in the world. That’s where you meet Seohyun after all, growing closer and closer with every sleepless night you spent together giggling and talking about everything under the sun, not feeling the hours tick by until one of your alarms would ring, signalling the start of a new day.

It was big, too spacious for only one person to live in, with two bedrooms and a bathroom straight out of an interior design magazine. Even though Seohyun didn’t move in until now, you were never truly alone with Jisung and Chris living right next door. Someone was always keeping you company, which you were thankful for, in more ways than one.

Already moving about like they owned the place, Chris and Jisung were helping you tidy up, with the latter moving to check for anything rotten in the kitchen. With four pairs of hands on deck, it didn’t take more than fifteen minutes for everything to be back to normal, leaving you to take care of the dusting.

“Alright.” Chan stands, carrying two trash bags. “Ji, let’s go get the armchair.”

Jisung follows before Seohyun calls after them. “Right, is it in your car?”

“I thought it was in yours?” He turns around, stopping in the doorway while Chan is already busy calling the elevator, further away.

You see her brows furrow, setting the duster down before grabbing her car keys. “Nope.”

The ding of the elevator gets your attention, and they share a look before hurrying after Chan, in search of said armchair, the door closing behind them with a quiet thud. You lived high up, on the 10th floor – nobody was ever willing to take the stairs and waste that much time.

And so, in the blink of an eye, you are left alone in the apartment that held so many of your memories, beautiful moments you wouldn’t trade even in exchange for forgetting the sad ones.

You feel a little lost, staring around like you couldn’t recognize your own home, shoulders slumping with a deep sigh. Your gaze moves towards your closed bedroom door, feet following before your hand twists the doorknob and you’re engulfed in sunlight, blinking rapidly to adjust to the change in lighting.

Inside, the sight that greets you seems frozen in time, transporting you back in June to the last moments spent in this room, where you were running around to pack in a hurry. You don’t dare move, just taking it all in as memories flood your mind and make your heart ache in your chest, what still remains of it, anyway.

All of your stuff thrown around haphazardly painted a picture you didn’t enjoy, yet couldn’t look away from either. Your bed remained unmade, with piles of clothing, bags and random objects occupying all the space. Framed photographs were thrown everywhere around the room, just so they would stop glaring at you from their place on your nightstand, face down and most likely damaged by the broken glass. The vase on your dresser, which used to stand tall with beautiful, healthy flowers seemed to have lost its color, struggling to fulfil its purpose because of the dried, mouldy peonies you didn’t bother throwing out before leaving.

But what’s even worse than the mess is what tipped you over the edge back then, falling to your knees on the fluffy, white carpet as you sobbed uncontrollably – the things he left behind were still here, in the exact same spots, in pristine condition. Your room looked like it barely survived the hurricane that shared your name, yet his red cap was still resting quietly next to the flowers he got you. One of his sketchbooks, still opened on that drawing he never got to finish as he got too busy with school, was on the other nightstand, on his side of the bed. A pair of his dancing shoes were by the door, right next to your comfy slippers. They have been there for so long, that you couldn’t enter your room without tripping over them and be reminded of his presence every single time. Hell, you bet if you checked right now, his toothbrush will still be next to yours in the cute holder you bought together, his razor not far away.

There were traces of him everywhere you looked in this apartment, clothes and necessities he left behind on his many visits. Like his football jersey, lucky number 20, you’ve worn more times than him, hung in your open closet among empty hangers that barely held on.

It wasn’t fair, how you seemed to crumble along with everything around you while he, and his stupid things, remained intact. The world shattered beneath your feet, freefalling to your doom of self-doubts and regrets while he continued with his life like nothing even happened. Like you never happened; like you weren’t such a fundamental part in his life in the exact same way he was in yours.

Your ex boyfriend moved on in the blink of an eye, while you were still here, crying at the sight of a stupid toothbrush.

This will never be fair. Why did you always seem to draw the short end of the stick?

New beginnings were usually your favorite. Starting another book, turning a new leaf and switching up your wardrobe for a change, getting the inspiration for another song – these were all activities that brought you joy. Now, returning to campus at the end of summer vacation to begin another school year? For the first time since starting university two years ago, felt like an impossible task, one you weren’t ready for in the slightest. Because how could you ever be ready to start your junior year without him?

How could you possibly embark on a new journey without him holding your hand and guiding you through it all, navigating around every hardship with ease like he was the most experienced sailor in existence?

You had no answers, only questions. Too many that were also too loud, bouncing off of the sturdy walls of your mind that were threatening to crumble with every thud, remaining standing only thanks to the unbearable headaches that reminded you to take a break from all the overthinking.

Your mind went quiet as another voice made its presence known, bringing you back to the world outside your bedroom while shooing the dark cloud above your head out the window with ease.

“Oh my god, we lost the goddamn chair!”

A wet laugh escaped your lips, more tears rolling down your cheeks as you desperately tried to wipe them all before joining your friends in the living room. You weren’t stupid – they were worried. That’s why Seohyun was moving in, in the first place. To keep an eye on you at all times, when the other two couldn’t be there and provide the much needed support you craved so badly.

Not like they knew you were aware of their little plan, having them figured out from the moment they showed up at Chan’s doorstep in Australia, last month. They’ve been tiptoeing around you since then, not knowing what emotional state you were in or what’s changed or hasn’t in the two months you spent apart. Sure, Chris might have filled them in, but they were still afraid. Afraid they were going to mess up somehow and have you slipping through their fingers and shatter at any moment, like you were nothing more than a fragile package, all progress lost the second something that reminded you of him jumped into your path.

And, you hate to admit but they were right.

They failed to take into consideration that even though your ex never actually moved in, the apartment was his as much as it was yours, quickly becoming your shared home as you fell into a routine that involved the other at every step.

Your three close friends were the only people present, but all you could see was him, a ghost roaming around and haunting every corner of the house you now despised, his giggles caressing your ears gently every time you moved from one room to the other.

Just being here felt like torture. How were you supposed to spend another two years sleeping in the same bed you shared with the person you thought was going to be your forever?

“Sweetheart.” Chan’s gentle voice coaxes you out of the room as you manage to pull yourself together, no sign of crying or distress still present on your features. If anything, they looked worse than you, crestfallen and a little embarrassed.

“We have something to tell you.” Seohyun steps closer, gently taking your hands into hers and intertwining your fingers loosely.

Jisung nods and is by your side in a second, throwing an arm around your shoulders as he lowers his mouth to your ear. “Chris lost your new armchair.”

“What the fuck?!”

Your laughter joins theirs, a beat later, as Chris remains the only one standing there, arms crossed over his chest with his words falingl on deaf ears, nobody paying attention as he begins defending himself.

When you’re pulled into a warm embrace, with Jisung’s cologne enveloping all your senses, you can’t help but start wondering. Is this a good time to finally reveal you never actually ordered a new chair or…?

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

Saturday slipped away into a moment in time, and before you knew it, Sunday was upon you. Your last chance at relaxing before the craziness began, and you’d be thrust into a series of new projects, classes and assignments that were already giving you a headache.

Despite spending the previous night celebrating a new beginning with your best friends, having an intimate pizza party with karaoke and a little too much alcohol, you wake up bright and early to get to a previously made appointment. Usually, you wouldn’t go anywhere for the summer, for the first two months anyway. But since you flew out of the country as soon as your exams were over, you didn’t get to help the animal shelter you have been volunteering at since your first year. It left a hole in your heart, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel guilty for disappearing into thin air, with nothing more than a text sent to the owner to let her know you’ll be going away for a while.

Hopefully, they’re willing to forgive and forget and let you make up for it by spending the next two months as involved as possible.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Comes Chan’s groggy voice, still husky from all the singing he did last night, stumbling out of your spare bedroom with barely open eyes.

You startle, losing your balance while putting on your other shoe and crashing into the wall by the front door. You were hoping to make a swift escape and return before any of them rose since nobody in their right mind would willingly wake up this early.

He appears from around the corner, tank top slightly raised as he’s trying to scratch at his back. “You good?”

“Yep, everything’s just peachy.” Regaining your footing, you manage to put your shoe on and turn your back to him to get a jacket, feeling too awkward to make eye contact right now, which Chan would have laughed about if he wasn’t so sleepy.

“Where are you going?” He yawns, turning to squint at the clock on the far wall, above the couch. “It’s literally 7 am, too early to even be alive right now.”

For some reason, you hesitate to tell him, too out of it for your, and most definitely his liking. Being here was certainly not doing you any good, the walls closing in every time you tried to breathe and lift all the broken pieces of your stupid heart off of your lungs. It felt suffocating, especially when you were left alone with your thoughts as you zoned out one too many times.

Still, you mumble under your breath, reaching for your keys as silently as possible.

“Huh?”

With a sigh, you finally face him, eyes downcast. “Furry Friends Rescue.”

The smile that stretches across his features as he processes your words is so wide and contagious, it brightens up the whole room like he was somehow related to the sun itself, light radiating off of him in waves. It wakes him up instantly, and before you know it, he slips into a pair of slides left by the door and flies to his apartment.

You look after him, confused, and step into the hallway at the same time he does.

“Alright, let’s go!” He beams, locking his door before reaching for your arm softly. “I’ll drive you!”

“Wait, are you sure? I can – “

“Yes, I’m sure!” He frowns, shaking his head and pulling you after him with his newfound energy. “You love it there, and I know you already miss Berry. The least I can do is offer you a ride, are you kidding?”

You can’t help but smile at the mention of his puppy, spirits lifted in an instant. She was such a special little lady and you really bonded in these three months you’ve spent at his parents’ house.

Your parents never allowed you to have a pet, with your mom being allergic, so you did what you could to fill the space that remained constantly empty in your heart.

The drive there is full of laughter and even more singing, with Chris bringing back one of the activities you loved doing since he first got his license back in high school. Carpool karaoke has always been a must in his car, and that’s why you rode with Seohyun on your way back from the airport yesterday. You were a fool because nothing was quite as therapeutic as being silly and singing Disney songs at the top of your lungs with the only person who’s watched you grow into the adult you are today.

The drive to your destination isn’t long, but you still manage to squeeze in five songs before you get off and Chris speeds off. Only after wishing you a good day and making you promise you’ll call once you’re done so he can come pick you up, too. He was too kind, willing to do too much for you sometimes, but you were just the same. You’re afraid you might try moving the moon if he asked, one day.

Your annoying, overprotective brother who wasn’t really your brother, who’d push you into the pool before jumping in to save you in the same breath. He was such a guy.

Approaching with a prep to your step, the shelter’s surroundings have changed drastically since your last visit. The trees in the back have dyed their leaves in warm shades of orange and yellow, scattering some on the ground in hopes of attracting more pet lovers. A beautiful background always pulled people in, just like all pretty things did, and this autumn is particularly beautiful, with sights straight out of famous paintings. Seoul was truly a special city, one that’s nurtured and taught you the meaning of the word love that’s being thrown around too casually for your taste, these days. The city you grew up in, where you found your love for writing and composing, and where you met the most amazing people on this planet.

No other city could compare to your birthplace, no matter how pretty or modern it was.

Just as you make to try the door, with your apology speech all ready to go, it suddenly opens and forces you to take a few steps back in surprise.

“I’m sorry, we aren’t open yet.” The apology comes from a tall man, whose delicate features would have fooled you into believing he wasn’t older than a high schooler. Yet his physique begs to differ, you could tell even from beneath all the layers. He’s wearing the shelter’s apron with the logo you’ve had Jisung design a few years back. A new employee, perhaps? You don’t recognize him, so that’s most likely the case.

Your gaze travels upwards until it meets his brown eyes that fidget at the sudden contact. “Sorry, I’m here to see Mrs. Jeon?”

The stranger shakes his head, bleached blond hair hiding an undercut following his every move. “Mrs. Jeon is out of the country.”

You wait for him to continue, provide more details but when he doesn’t and only raises a brow that almost asks ‘what are you still doing here?’ you sigh and turn to leave. “Right. Will you please tell her Y/n has stopped by?”

“Wait, Y/n L/n?”

You turn right on your heel, both of your eyebrows raised as if to challenge his. “Do I know you?”

He brings his hands up, showing he means no harm as a smile finds his rosy lips, one you don’t truly grasp the meaning of. “No! But I know you.”

Alright, now you’re properly creeped out. Noticing the look on your face, the man quickly corrects himself, letting out an awkward laugh as he rubs the back of his head. “I’m sorry, I’m not good with strangers. Mrs. Jeon does! I was recruited in your place when you didn’t come back in June.”

Oh, so he was your replacement. Great. You had no idea you’d entered a race to see how fast people and places you frequented could replace you during the summer. Very motivating and uplifting. You should have stayed home.

“Oh.” Despite all the thoughts overlapping each other in your head, you only manage to sigh, properly exhausted.

His eyes widen slightly, and without thinking, he grasps your elbow when you turn around to leave for good. “Please do come in! Mrs. Jeon has been waiting to hear from you. She left a note.”

“A note?” When he nods, you shake off his hand and accept the invitation, stepping inside filled with curiosity.

All of the furry friends were in the back, in a separate space away from the reception. The place was modern, decorated in warm, pastel colors that seemed to welcome you with a fuzzy hug, the surroundings pristine. Furry Friends Rescue was built from the ground up by Mrs Jeon’s late husband, who passed away a few years back, right after you started volunteering here. To honor his life, she kept this place running, making it her mission to find loving homes for all the animals that were brought in, investing most of her resources into modernizing the place and treating the animals like they deserved to be treated.

The shelter housed a veterinary office and a pet salon, run by other volunteers who were experts in their fields, students alike and even working people who would come by to offer a helping hand whenever they could. Mr Jeon was a vet – he used to treat all of the animals before he fell sick and became unable to work.

Making his way around the reception desk, which truly resembled the entrance of a corporation, even with all the pet pictures plastered on all the walls, and the dog pattern on the couch, the man picks up a note that was next to the bone-shaped phone.

“Here.”

Your fingers brush his as you take the small paper from him, but you don’t pay any attention to the slight color that appears on his cheeks.

Dear Y/n,

I hope your precious heart managed to heal during your trip

What fitting words for someone who had no idea why you left in the first place. Guess Mrs. Jeon knew you better than you thought, after all.

If you’re reading this, it means I have not yet returned from visiting my grandbabies. It also means Jaemin is the one looking after the place

Please work together until I’m back. He’s a nice kid and I believe you’ll get along well

That is if you’re still willing to return. Always put yourself first. If quitting is what you think is best, just know I’ll never hold it against you

With love, grandma J

P.S. there’s a surprise on the other side 😊

Curious, you flip over the page, eyes scanning the familiar handwriting to decipher what has she left you. A giggle escapes you soon after, shaking your head with fondness spilling from your eyes at her antics. You’re glad that after everything she’s been through, Mrs. Jeon has never changed.

“Is something funny?” The guy you’ve come to learn is named Jaemin asks from the other side of the desk, head tilted slightly in wonder making him resemble an actual puppy.

You dismiss him with a wave of your wrist, pocketing the note. Mrs. J’s brownie recipe you could never get enough of wouldn’t interest him anyway.

“So, you’re Jaemin?” You finally ask, giving him a once-over. He was tall, wearing a denim-on-denim outfit and smiled a little too brightly for your liking. Still, he did look like a nice guy, so you might as well give him a chance, even if meeting someone knew was the last thing you wanted to do.

As expected, he beams, thrusting a hand forward over the desk. “That’s me! Nice to meet you, Y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

You give him a small but genuine smile and shake his hand. “I’m a third year at SNU so I usually volunteer here during summer vacation. I hope we get along.”

He nods, listening to your every word. “Yeah, Mrs. Jeon mentioned we go to the same university. I’m a second year majoring in dance! I’m also a part of the football team so I apologize in advance if I ever end up leaving you here all alone when the season starts.”

Oh, what were the odds?

Your smile drops despite your effort in not reacting, retracting your hand a little too quickly while nodding and trying to act as normal as possible. “Cool.”

Turning around, you begin walking in the opposite direction to escape from this awkward situation Mrs. J has unknowingly put you in.

“Shall we go see the animals?”

He’s on your tail soon after, grabbing another apron on the way for you with that ever present sunny smile of his. Jaemin reminded you of a hyperactive puppy, a golden retriever who would do anything to make you happy, pulling silly stunts and stumbling over his own feet.

Turns out, his bright personality isn’t the only reason Mrs. J has hired Jaemin. You spend the next four hours together, taking care of the animals and talking, to your surprise. They all seemed to love him already, causing a ruckus at the mere sight of him, excited to be let out and greet you both properly. The puppies especially as they’d run back and forth from you to him without stopping for a while, barely managing to bottle feed them in their excitement. Jaemin was nice, and easy to talk to, happy to get to know you but also talk your ear off when sensing you might need a laugh, managing to make everything funny. A great pick me up, you ended up agreeing with Mrs J’s statement – he was a good guy, the best that could have replaced you and helped her and all the staff in your absence.

For some reason, he felt comfortable opening up to you, and in turn, you told him some things about yourself too.

“What made you want to volunteer here?” He suddenly asks while cradling a noisy kitten, the sight comical.

You barely think before answering, gaze still trained on the bichon that has fallen asleep in your lap while you were brushing her. “I wasn’t allowed to have pets growing up, and I’ve always loved them. I was lucky my best friend had the most adorable puppy in the world right next door, but it wasn’t the same as owning one, you know?”

Jaemin nods, finally calming the kitten, eyes on you. “Oh, that sucks. I couldn’t imagine life without my two babies at home.”

You look up, curious. “You have dogs?”

“Two cats.” He throws a peace sign, chuckling when you smile. “I’m from Busan, so I only get to see them on holidays. I thought coming here and helping out four days a week might help me miss them less.”

“And? Does it help?” You point to the kitten that has fallen asleep in his arms, head crocked to the side weirdly. Looking down, he laughs and sets her in his lap, using his knuckles to gently pet between her ears, one of his hands as big as her whole body.

“It does, actually.” He smiles absentmindedly, most likely reminiscing about his fur babies. “But only momentarily. When I’m back in my dorm room, I still feel their absence.”

“I’m sorry.” Is all you say, a deep pang of sadness hitting you out of nowhere. You guess this is how Chris and Jisung feel as well, both away from their respective dogs they’ve more or less grown up with.

Jaemin shakes his head, still smiling and not as sad as you’d thought he’d be. “None of that. I facetime my mom every night just to see them.”

“That’s cute.” A smile finds its way on your face as you imagine him using the same baby voice he uses with the animals here on the phone with his mom, cooing at his cats.

“You’re cute.”

An uncharacteristic silence falls upon you as Jaemin searches for your gaze, dying to understand your reaction. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just weird, making you feel like you were doing something wrong. Which made no sense. Jisung and Chan called you cute all the time; not out of nowhere, but when the moment was right. Heck, Seohyun would write entire pages praising your beauty whenever you posted on Instagram – you knew you were cute. But this was different, this was someone that meant it romantically, you could tell. He was flirting with you, shooting his shot and seeing where it landed.

That wasn’t something you could reciprocate, especially not now.

When he notices the look in your eyes, the storm brewing behind them, he adds. “I was talking about Belle over there.”

You look down at Belle, the fluffy bichon in your lap, who is currently sleeping soundly on her back, tummy up and randomly kicking her feet once in a while, dreamland surely rowdy.

“Shut up.” You laugh a moment later, appreciating how fast he took the hint and backed off, leaning over to softly push him on the doggy mats, to which he pretends to fall just for your amusement.

With that out of the way, things return to normal quickly and before you know it, the other volunteers arrive and you’re biding Jaemin goodbye and going on your merry way, back to your apartment.

It’s afternoon now, hopefully your friends are awake by now.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

They were in fact, not awake. Jisung just moved himself from the spare bedroom he shared with Chris for the night to the living room couch to sleep some more, without having to deal with the other’s snoring. Seohyun was buried in your blanket, hiding from the world, in the same position she was in when you left that morning.

Like it or not, it seems their bodies were incapable of pulling all-nighters after doing it for so many years without suffering the day after. Hopefully, you all manage to fix your sleep schedules before your classes start properly, not wanting to miss too many and be left behind, confused out of your minds and barely figuring it out by the time exam season rolls around.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

“I’m sleepy.” Seohyun complains, reaching up to rub her eyes before remembering the pretty eyeliner currently gracing her eyelids and stopping at the last second, groaning.

You giggle, full of energy from the coffee Chris made sure got into your system before your first class, swirling the ice in your cup absentmindedly, mind somewhere else.

Busy on his phone, he doesn’t even look up as he responds. “You barely made it to class this morning and you’re still complaining?”

Monday, 10:15 am. Your first class of the day officially ended fifteen minutes ago and as you’ve been doing for two years now, your friend group meet up at your favorite location, the diner closest to campus that has become some sort of sanctuary by now.

Seohyun was majoring in communication so she did not share your classes yet somehow, the four of you have started the new school year in the same way – with a boring, way too long 8 am lecture that almost erased your will to live.

She shoots him a dirty look he doesn’t notice, but otherwise doesn’t respond, too tired to bother with Chris and his top student agenda. Because being popular, good at sports and everyone’s friend wasn’t enough for him; your best friend was the academic weapon every freshman aspired to be, without trying too hard either. Hands down the most gifted and smartest person you know.

“You did go to bed super late last night.” You reach for her hand across the table, gently massaging her palm in hopes she’ll feel a bit better.

Just then, Jisung returns with your drinks, handing them out one by one like he was a barista himself. When he’s done and you all thank him, he takes his seat across from you and Chris, next to Seohyun. “What did I miss?”

“Seohyun was complaining.” Chris responds instantly, fingers typing away. What could be more interesting than spending time with your closest friends?

“Oh, so nothing new.”

At the same time, you softly smack the back of Chris’ head while she smacks Jisung, with a little more force, only the latter reacting loudly.

“Stop being mean.” You reprimand, and Chris puts his phone down with a sigh, leaning back in his chair to stretch his arms above his head.

“For your information, being late was not my fault.” Seohyun chimes in, finally in the mood to explain herself after taking several sips of her coffee. “This random guy ran straight into me, I was tackled to the ground!”

Concern flashes over your features. “Are you okay?”

She nods. “Yeah, don’t worry. He helped me up and gathered all of my books while apologizing. Then I met up with Ji and he carried my bag to class.”

Both you and Chris shoot Jisung a curious look, not convinced he went through all of that trouble out of the kindness of his own heart.

“In my defense,” Jisung shrugs, his arm thrown over the booth behind Seohyun’s head, “I really did not want to come to class.”

Chris chuckles and sips from his strawberry milkshake while you shake your head, smiling and pinching the back of Jisung’s hand that was resting on the table, to which he retaliates by throwing the straw paper in your face.

“To be honest, I wasn’t paying attention either so he’s not entirely to blame here.” She continues like neither of you has said anything, resting her head in her palm with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Besides, he was fucking gorgeous. I swear I’ve never seen such a beautiful man before. And his freckles? Literal constellations right on his cheeks, oh my god.”

“Okay, Juliet, pipe down.” Jisung flicks her forehead and she swats his hand away, glaring.

Amused, you lean closer with interest. “Did you get his name?”

She shakes her head. “No” Then, her gaze moves to Chris. “That’s why, I need you to find him for me.”

Raising a brow, he reaches for your drink to have a taste before responding. “What am I, the local newspaper? You’re the one who bumped into him.”

“Yes, but you literally know everyone on campus.”

He makes a face, deeming your drink too bitter for his taste. “So do you.”

That was true. Seohyun was the definition of a social butterfly, mingling with all cliques and being liked by everyone she came into contact with. However, she was also very perceptive so if someone’s vibe seemed off, she could come across as cold and aloof, not giving them the time of day.

“Please?” She continues, resorting to the infamous puppy eyes. “This guy might be the love of my life, Chris, please help me.”

“What about Mark?” Jisung buts in, giving her a questioning look. Immediately, you and Chris signal for him to cut it out, abort the ship and never utter that name for as long as he draws breath.

Seohyun’s gaze drops to her cup, manicured finger moving back and forth on the edge, pretending she didn’t hear any of the words that have left Jisung’s mouth. To his credit, Jisung looks a little guilty, arm sliding over her shoulder and squeezing briefly in a silent apology, hoping it will be enough to fix things.

The probability of this mystery guy being the love of her life was low, but Chris seemed to feel bad enough to give in, exhaling deeply. Seohyun’s track record wasn’t great – for some reason, she always fell for emotionally unavailable guys, with her latest situationship ending not too long ago once she realized Mark did not want anything serious.

She didn’t deserve all that. Seohyun was the sweetest, kindest person you knew, with a heart of gold. If anyone deserved to find true love and grow old with rosy cheeks, still feeling butterflies at the mention of her beloved’s name no matter how many years passed, it was her. And you’d be damned if you didn’t try to make that happen.

“Let’s find this pretty boy of yours.” You smile as Chris nods, enjoying the way her face gradually lights up.

“Really?”

“I’d feel like I kicked a puppy while it was down if I didn’t, so what the hell. We’ve done crazier things anyways.” Chris adds and she squeals, getting out of the booth to come over and hug him, suddenly excited.

“Oh!” She rushes back to her seat, instantly rummaging through her bag. “This is his. I think it got mixed up with my books when I dropped them. He was in a hurry.”

The three of you huddle together as she places a small notebook on the table, curious about its contents that might reveal the identity of Seohyun’s prospective new…something. Let’s hope boyfriend, and nobody that treats her less than that.

Chris is the one who dares open it, flipping through the pages in wonder.

“These are…recipes?” He blinks, drawing a blank as the measurements for the perfect ‘gooey brownies’ stare him right in the face.

None of you says anything for a moment, the gears in your head turning and working simultaneously before Jisung breaks the silence with an unexpected outburst.

“Oh my god, he’s a fucking loser!”

Safe to say, he got smacked a couple more times before your next class of the day. Lovingly, of course.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

With everyone promising to ask around for Seohyun’s prince charming, you go on with your day until your last class, when you established to meet again for a little get together with all of your other friends.

The sun was starting to set, casting a warm, golden hue that extended throughout the whole campus, creating mesmerizing surroundings you could barely look away from. Thankfully by now, you’re outside, enjoying the warm breeze and nice weather that might not return any time soon as the days will only continue to get shorter and shorter as time passes.

You’re currently near the football field, cutting through near the bleachers to get to the other side where Chris and his swimming team are currently meeting. Seohyun is skipping a few feet in front of you, obviously in good spirits.

“Didn’t know Chris needed a chaperone.” She teases, turning to you with a smile as she starts walking backwards.

You chuckle. “Well, he is our ride.”

“We could have walked.” She stretches her arms as if to prove a point. “It’s such a beautiful day! It’s a shame we have to miss out on the rest of it, too.”

You were on your way to a bar, a new one that opened all the way in Hongdae. The owner has invited 3racha, Chris and Jisung’s music group personally, so it would be rude to not show up, even if you did share her sentiment. If it were up to you, you’d be in bed, snuggling already, but your friends have made it a point to keep you out of the house as much as possible.

“Just say thank you, Seohyun.”

“Thank you, Seohyun, for being the hottest girl around!”

You both laugh, enjoying each other’s company before she turns back around and resumes her skipping, long, bleached hair flowing freely behind her in the prettiest way. As you reach for your phone to record her for memories, a speck of red gets your attention in an instant.

You keep walking but your eyes are glued to the field now, to the eight or so guys dressed in the white and red uniform of your university’s American football team. Your heart rate picks up in an instant, scanning their jersey numbers in a hurry.

Relief floods your system when you don’t find what you’re looking for, slowing down. These guys looked young, most likely freshmen trying out for a spot in the most famous football team your university has had in years. You didn’t know how that worked, your memory failed you as you tried to remember when tryouts took place. It seemed a little too early for all that though, too soon to be looking for new people when the season kicked off somewhere in October, a good month and a half away. You couldn’t help but wonder why the hurry.

“Y/n! Watch out!”

Seohyun’s screaming startles you out of your thoughts, your eyes coming into focus to see a football flying right in your direction, quickly approaching your head. Before you know it, you’re ducking and running, feeling bad for snoozing and interfering with practice. Of course, this had to happen, you were cursed after all. You could never be near a sports field without something hitting you, no matter how small or insignificant the object, it always had to make contact with your face.

However, you don’t make it very far before you come to an abrupt stop as you collide with something or better said, someone, the impact causing you to stumble a few steps back until rough, gloved hands stabilize you by the shoulders.

When you regain your footing and finally look up at your saviour, your heart actually stops.

Because the one looking back, right through you is none other than Hyunjin. Your Hyunjin.

Or actually, he wasn’t yours anymore, now, was he?

Hyunjin who’s written his name across your heart in golden letters, that suddenly lit up at the mere sight of him. Your ex-boyfriend looked almost unrecognizable, his short black hair replaced by long, bleached locks that were pushed back, away from his face in a little ponytail.

You were a fool to think he wouldn’t be here. He was the captain after all and the coach was nowhere in sight.

The air wasn’t entering your lungs anymore, yet somehow you were still breathing, being kept afloat by his familiar hands on your skin, so overly conscious of his touch that you barely registered the shiver running down your spine.

After three months apart with no communication, Hyunjin was finally looking at you, forced to acknowledge your presence. It felt a little surreal, bumping into him so soon. Sure, you were expecting it, but not on your very first day back to campus, not when you still haven’t processed the fact that you weren’t together anymore. Everything in you longed for him and all his endearing quirks, even after all this time; even after he broke your heart.

You don’t dare look away, and neither does he, enthralled by those beautiful eyes of his that used to watch your every move with so much love and care. Now, you don’t see any of these emotions, but there is an intensity to his gaze that you can’t quite put your finger on. Time always seemed to come to a stop when you were with him and right now it was no different. All of your surroundings faded, leaving him the sole object of your attention.

There was a new piercing adorning his face, right under his bleached eyebrow. It looked good, like everything he deemed worthy enough to leave a mark on his body. But that wasn’t what got your heart beating again, pounding against your ribcage at an alarming pace he was sure to hear even from afar.

Without looking away, his hands slide down your arms slowly, and for a brief moment, you think they’re going to find solace in yours, just like they’ve done for all these years. By the surprise flickering in his eyes, you believe he thought of the same thing, catching himself at the last second and taking a step back, arms falling to his side heavily.

“Yo, what the fuck was that?” A new voice has you both snapping out of it, finally allowing you to look away and escape the staring war neither had the resources to win. It’s familiar, and as someone stops right by your side, seemingly out of nowhere, there’s no doubt in your mind about his identity.

“Y/n, are you okay?

You blink, and the magic from before finally dissipates completely, almost like the spell Hyunjin has got you under broke the moment he made himself busy by reaching for his helmet on the ground. When you manage to tear your eyes from him, Yeonjun, one of his friends and teammates, comes into view and places a hand on your shoulder in concern. The ball that almost collided with your head is under his other arm, and you notice that he’s not wearing his gloves as he should be.

Eventually, you nod, looking straight into his eyes while mustering your most convincing smile. “Yeah, don’t worry. Nothing even happened.”

“It almost did.” He states, glaring towards the group of men who seemed glued on the spot. “If it weren’t for Hyunjin, things might have ended badly.”

You look away, not knowing how to act around them anymore. Hyunjin doesn’t respond either, just moves out of the way as Seohyun sprints to your rescue, pulling your body into the tightest hug and putting some distance between you and the two men.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt anywhere, right?” She’s instantly checking you all over, dusting invisible dirt off your clothes before patting your head lovingly, just like a mother would do to comfort her sobbing child. Truthfully speaking, you weren’t far from turning into one, but the mortification of bursting into tears in front of all these people kept your emotions in check. You reckon a football to the face would have hurt less than having Hyunjin treat you like a stranger he’s meeting for the first time, barely reacting to your sudden appearance.

In hindsight, him reacting differently was almost impossible. Especially in the way you’d want him to react. Hyunjin had changed right before your very eyes in the last months before your relationship ended, burying his sweet and sensitive nature so deep down that you feared it might have gotten erased permanently.

Grasping her hands, you nod to calm her racing mind. “I’m fine, mom.” Then, you turn to Yeonjun again. “Sorry for interrupting practice like that. I should have been more careful.”

You hear Hyunjin scoff from somewhere behind you, still not brave enough to show his face, while Yeonjun shakes his head vehemently. “Nonsense. You did nothing wrong. Those guys though? They did plenty.”

He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly before excusing himself to join said guys, voice loud and annoyed. “Who were you passing that to? Are you fucking blind or just stupid?”

Yeonjun had no authority over them, not like Hyunjin did anyway. But he was still a seasoned player, one that’s been with the team for two years, so his words carried significant weight. He was a year older than all of you yet only decided to give football a chance in his second year, joining the team at the same time as Hyunjin. Their roles on the team were the opposite of each other – while Hyunjin was on the offensive, Yeonjun was a defensive player in charge of keeping the other team as far away as possible. Yet, they clicked and worked so well together that the probability of SNU losing a game with both of them present was close to none.

Bonding outside the field proved just as easy and before you knew it, Yeonjun became one of Hyunjin’s treasured friends, bringing their envied teamwork to more events than necessary.

For these guys to have a chance before the coach, they first needed to impress these two. And one thing about Hyunjin was that he was very hard to impress, especially in the areas he excelled in.

Your eyes naturally gravitate towards him along with your thoughts, his magnetic field still as strong as always. To your utter surprise, he moved to stand a little further away, facing his potential new teammates.

“Who threw that?”

The sound of his voice alone is enough to overwhelm you, suddenly way too emotional to keep still, to manage to keep your cool and act as nonchalant as he was. You haven’t heard that voice in so long, you’re sure you’d have collapsed if he as much as uttered your name.

Your name on his tongue has always been your favorite sound, no other word ever coming close to having that same effect.

Sheepishly, one of the guys steps forward while rubbing the back of their necks, visibly taken aback by the coldness in Hyunjin’s voice.

Hyunjin’s eyes narrow just as Seohyun links her arm through yours and tugs your body closer.

“Apologize.”

“Yes, captain!” He nods instantly, bowing repeatedly in Hyunjin’s direction to show exactly how sorry he feels for disappointing him. “I’m –“

“Not to me.” Hyunjin crosses his arms over wide chest, shoulder blade plates making him look even more intimidating as he stands to his full height, rolling his eyes. “To her.”

Your eyes widen as the guy looks up, searching for you with confusion visible even through his big helmet. Hesitantly, he changes targets, stopping before you and Seohyun.

“Hyunjin – “ You manage to squeak out, hating the way your voice almost gets caught in your throat, heat rushing to your face.

“Let him apologize.” His gaze travels to you leisurely, impatience clear in usual doe eyes.

But you aren’t far behind, a little annoyed by his insistence, managing to pull yourself together to counter. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“And last I checked, I didn’t ask for your opinion.” As quick-witted as always, Hyunjin isn’t even looking at you anymore, not bothering to react in any other way, like you weren’t even worth getting annoyed at. “He made a mistake that under normal circumstances, could have cost us the game. He needs to own up to it and apologize not only to you but to his teammates as well.”

Then, the guy seems to get smaller under his sharp gaze, instantly dropping into a deep bow and obeying Hyunjin’s words to a T. “I’m so sorry for throwing the ball in your direction!” In the next second, he’s spinning around and bowing to the other guys as Seohyun struggles to keep in her laughter at his next words. “I’m sorry for being an idiot!”

To his credit, Hyunjin hasn’t addressed him as such, always one to keep things professional. Yet, you notice the slight twitch of his mouth, obviously pleased and amused as Yeonjun bursts out laughing.

The guys bow in return, and suddenly they’re all shouting apologies at each other, owning up to all of the little mistakes they’ve made up until now that might’ve inconvenienced the other in some way, feeling bad for possibly giving anyone a hard time.

Not being able to hold it in anymore, your best friend almost collapses from laughter, needing to walk it off to calm down, only to start again as she locks eyes with Yeonjun a little farther away.

You’re so taken aback that you don’t even know how to react, watching the scene before you as flabbergasted as one could get. It was wholesome to see these kids already acting like a team but a part of you couldn’t help but feel bad once it remembered none might actually get to play and represent their university on the field. Hyunjin was trying to instil some discipline into them, but at what cost? What was the point?

Just as you’re contemplating everything that happened, the eight guys suddenly stop and turn to bow in Hyunjin’s direction as well, apologizing at the same time like it’s an activity they’ve rehearsed beforehand. It gets quiet as they wait for an answer, not even daring to raise their heads and see Hyunjin’s reaction, just patiently waiting for the go ahead so they can go back to practice.

Since when was Hyunjin running this team like the fucking marines?

Despite not looking at him, when Hyunjin nods they all stand to their full heights before him, awaiting further instructions. The mood shifts, all tense and serious like they weren’t sweet and wholesome just a moment ago.

“Since none of you seem able to handle one of these yet,” he barely finishes his sentence before Yeonjun passes him the ball, catching it with ease to hold up for the others to see. It all happened so quickly and naturally, that the others most likely didn’t notice, but you did. Hyunjin isn’t using his dominant hand. “you’ll be running laps until the coach gets here. Whoever is not up for it, drop your gears – you’re out.”

You’re expecting complaints and groans in protest but instead, they all nod and succumb to their miserable fates, doing exactly what Hyunjin has instructed. A little further away, you notice Yeonjun laughing without shame, having a blast at their expense.

“Asshole.” Seohyun murmurs, rolling her eyes, and you’re unsure who she’s talking about. “Let’s go. Any more time and Chris will send his speedo wearing army out in the wild to look for us.”

You want to laugh, to agree, and turn your back on this incident and leave without a word. But you can’t, feet lodged into place like you were standing on the biggest patch of mud around.

Hyunjin’s back was already to you, form cladded in that familiar uniform you’ve felt under your fingertips for years. The 20 under his surname written in capital letters on his jersey were almost mocking you, mad for holding their twin hostage in your mess of a closet. It doesn’t matter – in a month or so, they’ll be replaced in favour of a new design that comes around every new season. Just like your presence in his life will inevitably be filled by someone else; someone better, capable of loving him at his worst.

You had so much to say, so many words eager to escape and latch onto him, to get his attention and feed from it, growing bolder and more desperate with every second spent by his side. Hyunjin always brought the best out of you – until he broke things off. Then everything just came to a stop. Like someone lifted the stylus off of a vinyl before the song got the chance to come to an end, damaging the record and your ears in the process.

You loved music but suddenly, your life was quiet.

Hyunjin has been your muse for the entirety of your relationship, all of your songs based on him and the love that managed to blossom thanks to your shared effort. The butterflies and the fireworks all faded without a trace, making your music sound bland and meaningless, off-key since the one who inspired it was no longer there.

You wanted to call out his name, get him to stop and not leave you behind again but you didn’t know how, unable to without bursting into tears and breaking down for everyone to see. Hyunjin has been a part of your life for so many years, how were you ever supposed to start acting like he never was? Erasing him and the mark he left would surely be impossible without a potion of sorts, some Eternal Sunshine mechanism that will ensure your brain will be tricked into believing he was never here, to begin with.

Seohyun is off to the side, giving you the space needed to put your thoughts in order, for your next move. This was your chance, the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t run after him no matter how loudly your heart was screaming in protest.

So, you turn around and latch onto your best friend as she begins pulling you along, quick to come to your rescue as always. Struggling to keep it together, with tears welling up in your eyes, you miss the way he turns to look in your direction one more time. One last time.

You’ve always believed Hyunjin was the love of your life, the one you’d grow old holding hands with.

Now, your perspective has changed, as did the main character role he has played in your story for the past five years. No longer was he the charming male lead, the prince coming in on a white horse to swoop you off your feet in a grand gesture of romance.

Hyunjin was the loss of your life. The one that managed to get away even with the tight grip you’ve tried to keep on his heart.

Hyunjin transformed into a background character that won’t be there for the ride, and won’t get to witness the new developments happening from now on in your life.

You would have rather been the one written off the story if it meant keeping him. Unfortunately, that was not a possibility since without you, there wouldn’t be a story to begin with.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

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