#or he would probably wanna go biking. AND I COULD DO THAT!!!!!

[heethera]

˖*°࿐ •*⁀➷ 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐥?

➜ summary: what happens when your ex-best friend lawyers you into marrying him? exhibit a: the marriage contract you both wrote and signed when you were twelve.

pairing: lhs x f!reader, wc: 18k words , genre: work romance, fluff, slight angst (not really) w: rude jokes, cussing, kissing, implied sex

12 YEARS AGO

Twelve was a ridiculous age.

At twelve, you knew just enough to survive. Water was good. Hunger sucked. Sleep was non-negotiable. You understood that cereal could be dinner if no one stopped you, and that bruises from falling off your bike hurt less than the sting when Park Jongseong, your first middle school crush, told you your pigtails were uneven. For some reason, that hurt.

But love? Love was still the kind of thing you learnt from watching episodes of Phineas and Ferb when you were bored or whatever drama your mum had playing on the TV in the background. You didn’t really understand what it was.

All you knew was that it probably had the same colour and scent as Lee Heeseung.

It was the summer of 2014, and you were lying flat on your stomach across Heeseung’s bedroom carpet, the pattern of the rug imprinting little diamonds into your knees. The fan overhead creaked in slow, lazy circles. Outside, someone’s dog wouldn’t stop barking. Inside, Heeseung was twisting around with a new fidget toy he got from the dollar store. 

“Do you think I’ll have a boyfriend twelve years from now?” you asked, chewing the end of your pencil.

He didn’t even look up. “Beats me.”

“Hee, I’m serious,” you pressed.

With a groan as dramatic as his limbs were long, Heeseung finally glanced up. “What do you even want me to say?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, pencil now balanced horizontally between your upper lip and nose like a moustache. “I’m just thinking.”

Heeseung leaned back against the side of his bed, gaze flicking to the ceiling like the answer might be hidden in the fan’s creaky rotations. “Twelve years from now… we’d be—” He held up a hand, counting quietly. “Twenty-four.”

“That’s the age my parents got married,” you said, as if that somehow doomed you to a ticking clock.

Heeseung made a face. “Gross.”

You frowned, dramatic in the way only preteens could be. “I wanna get married.”

He clicked the fidget toy shut with a snap. “What is it with you and boyfriends lately?”

“I mean… twenty-four is old, Heeseung. Way old.”

“Barely,” he replied, then paused, his brow quirking slightly. “Besides, someone’ll like you.”

You cradled your face in both hands. “What if they don’t?”

He reached out and poked your cheek with the back of his knuckle. “You’re pretty. I’d like you.”

You blinked at him. “You would?”

“Sure.” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “But not now. You’re weird.”

You cracked a smile. “Hm, so you think I’m pretty… that’s not what Park Jongseong said last week when I beat him at basketball. He said I looked like a ‘sweaty worm.’”

“Oh yeah.” Heeseung snorted, eyes crinkling. “That was funny.”

You launched a cushion at his face in retaliation. He caught it with one hand, barely blinking.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, tone casual as he dropped the cushion to the floor. “When we’re twenty-four… we’ll get married.”

You blinked. “What? Why?”

“Just in case,” he replied with a shrug. “If you don’t have a boyfriend and I don’t have a girlfriend. Then we’ll get married.”

You stared at him, unsure if he was joking. Heeseung always said ridiculous things—like how he was going to invent a chocolate that never melted, or become the first person to skateboard across the ocean. But this? This was different.

“Really?” This time, you sat up properly, legs crossed beneath you, your heart doing something weird and fluttery in your chest.

“Yeah.” He nodded like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

“Are you just saying that?”

Heeseung shook his head. “We can pinky swear on it.”

“A pinky swear?” you scoffed, arms folding. “That’s, like, so elementary school. We need something more binding.”

“Like what?”

You rummaged through your pencil case, digging out a crumpled sheet from your favorite Hello Kitty notebook, half-covered in doodles of stars and lopsided flowers. “A contract.”

Heeseung leaned closer, peering over your shoulder as you smoothed the page flat on the carpet. “You’re seriously writing this down?”

“Absolutely.” You grabbed a glitter gel pen and scribbled across the top in loopy, uneven letters: Marriage Pact – Do Not Ignore (Even If You’re Famous or Rich)

Heeseung burst into laughter. “What kind of title is that?”

“A legal one,” you replied seriously, already underlining it twice. “Sign here, please.”

Heeseung took the pen from your hand, tongue sticking out slightly as he wrote his name in slow, deliberate strokes. Then he passed it back.

You signed yours underneath, dotting the “i” in your name with a tiny heart.

And just like that, two twelve-year-olds, were legally bound by glitter ink.

-

12 YEARS LATER

You slammed your apartment mailbox shut with your foot, flipping through the envelopes as you climbed the stairs.

You sighed. “Electric. Insurance. Internet. Phone. Rent. Water,” you muttered, voice rising with each envelope. “Can’t believe we live in a world where they charge us for clean water.”

You shoved the stack under your arm and nudged the apartment door open with your hip, stepping inside and closing it behind you with the heel of your foot.

Jake looked up from the couch. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You held up the bills with a deadpan stare. “If ghosts came in white envelopes and demanded a fuck ton of money, then yeah. Paranormal as hell.”

Jake looked up from the couch, controller still in hand. “Again?”

“Yes, Jaeyun. Bills happen every month. That’s what we signed up for when we became roommates.”

You tossed the stack onto his lap. He sighed and paused his game, the TV screen freezing on a very intense moment in Mario Kart.

He flipped through the envelopes, brows furrowing as he read each one aloud. “Electric. Insurance. Internet. Phone. Rent. Water.”

He looked up at you with disbelief, “Can’t believe we live in a world where they charge us for clean water.”

“That’s what I said!” you replied, dropping your bag by the side of the couch and kicking off your shoes.

Jake was about to make another sarcastic comment, but then he paused.

He squinted at one of the envelopes, holding it up by its edge like it might bite. “What’s a Lee Heeseung?”

You stilled. “…What do you mean?”

Jake held it up with two fingers like it was radioactive. “Someone named Lee Heeseung addressed a letter to you. Wait…Lee Heeseung… sounds familiar. Isn’t this the guy who–”

You lunged forward, snatching the envelope out of his hands so fast the paper rustled.

He started to stand. “Wait—”

But you were already on your feet, clutching the envelope to your chest like it held state secrets.

“I’m going to my room,” you said quickly, already halfway down the hall.

Jake called after you, “You can’t just run away!”

But you were gone.

You dropped the envelope onto your desk and began pacing, feet dragging slightly over the worn hardwood floor. Back and forth. Hands on your hips, then rubbing the back of your neck, then up through your hair like you could physically scrape the panic out of your scalp.

Lee Heeseung.

You hadn’t heard that name in six years. Not since you were 18. What the hell was he doing sending you letters after 6 years of ghosting you? Letters, of all things. Not a text. Not an email. A letter.

You rubbed your face with both palms, fingers pressing into your temples. Your entire body felt tight with confusion. 

You stared at the envelope for a long second.

Should I open it? you asked yourself.

Your fingers twitched.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you were already tearing into the envelope, clumsily slicing the top open with your nail. The paper ripped slightly at the corner from how fast your hands moved. The letter slid out, crisp and neatly folded.

You read it, then stood in silence, blinking. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Brain empty. You were confused. Stunned. A little stoned but from shock. Absolutely floored. Like someone had drop-kicked your frontal lobe.

This letter is to formally present the enclosed documentation for legal execution of a prior agreement, namely a childhood contract between yourself and one Mr. Lee Heeseung. The aforementioned contract, signed voluntarily at age twelve, contained a clause regarding marital union at the age of twenty-four should both parties remain unwed.  Pursuant to this clause, Mr. Lee Heeseung has submitted the original document, legally notarized, and formally requests your signature on the attached marriage certificate to fulfil the terms of said agreement.  Please review the enclosed documents at your earliest convenience. For any clarifications, feel free to contact our office or Mr. Lee directly.

Your mouth moved but to be honest, all you could manage was:

“What the fuck is wrong with him.”

-

You were late.

You weren’t usually late. In fact, you were one of those annoying people who showed up fifteen minutes ahead of time and still apologised for making others wait. But today? Today was the one day you really didn’t want to be late.

Your first day at your big girl job and here you were, sprinting toward the building that held your future career by its palm.

​​Your shoulder bag bounced wildly against your side as you dodged a man holding a suspiciously large iced coffee, barely avoiding a full-blown caffeine collision. The turnstile doors loomed ahead sleek and metallic. You jabbed your access card against the reader. You slipped through and finally looked up.

And then you saw Jake.

“Hurry up!” he called, gesturing frantically as the elevator chimed. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into getting the bus without you.”

You jogged over, breathless. “Well you’d be late and you know I get the nervous poops.”

He glanced at his watch. “Yeah but couldn’t you have held it in? You know how they say the first impression counts.”

You rolled your eyes as you stepped in beside him. “They also say to surround yourself with supportive friends, but look how that turned out.”

Jake grinned, holding the door for you. “Touché.”

The elevator doors slid shut with a polished ding, sealing you and Jake into a box of brushed metal and awkward first-day jitters.

“I still can’t believe we got the last two spots at Aureum,” You said, “The Aureum.”

“Well,” Jake  said, trying to catch his breath, “we fought our way here and beat out that no-good Park Eunmi and her bratty—”

“Jake.” You shot him a warning look. “We’re adults now. We don’t go around talking shit about people we won’t even be seeing anymore.”

He blinked. “Weren’t you the same person who called her, and I quote, a ‘two-faced conniving bitch’ yesterday?”

“Like I said,” you replied, smoothing your blouse, “I’m an adult now.”

As two of the newest Junior Marketing Associates, you and Jake had beat out over a hundred applicants. A hundred other applicants who probably practiced their interview answers in the mirror a million times before. And somehow, two under-slept twenty-somethings from a shared apartment with a broken microwave made it through.

Your eyes flicked around the office, trying to drink it all in, endless cubicles with glowing monitors, people tapping away at keyboards like they were born doing it, voices murmuring through headsets, and behind closed doors, offices that belonged to people with email signatures way fancier than yours.

You clutched your lanyard a little tighter. 

“Come on in, guys. Sit down, sit down.” A man in a blazer and slacks stood by the doorway, gesturing everyone inside with brisk efficiency. His voice was clear, professional, and used to being listened to.

You followed Jake into the room, quietly settling into one of the twelve chairs arranged in a half-circle around a low conference table. The space was bright, glass walls on one side, soft overhead lighting, and a large flat-screen monitor mounted neatly in front. A clicker and laptop sat idle on the table. The chairs were surprisingly comfortable.

“I’m Park Jongseong,” the man announced once everyone had filtered in. “We’ll be starting orientation in about five minutes. We’re just waiting for the head of department to arrive, and then we’ll get going.”

The name hit you oddly. A little familiar. Park Jongseong. It tugged at the back of your memory, but you brushed it off. Probably a coincidence. Jongseong wasn’t exactly rare.

He continued, tone practised. “Before that, let’s take attendance. Please scan the QR code on the screen, log in using your company ID, and mark yourself as ‘present.’”

The screen flickered to display the code. A few people reached for their phones immediately.

“If you have any questions, feel free to ask,” he added, hands clasped in front of him, his expression neutral but approachable. The lanyard hanging around his neck read Human Resources – Manager. That explained the ease, the polished tone. He’d clearly done this many times before.

You unlocked your phone and scanned the code, fingers moving over the login screen. Jake leaned over slightly to peek at your screen, making sure he was doing the same thing right.

You tried to focus, but the name still lingered somewhere in your mind. Park Jongseong.

You shook your head, returning your attention to the task at hand.

It couldn’t be. Not that Jongseong. Right?

“Okay, he’s here,” Jongseong said, glancing toward the glass wall. He gave a quick nod to someone just out of sight. “Please use my company email if you have any HR-related issues. Thank you, and I’ll see all of you after this session.”

He stepped aside, and a man entered the room.

“Good morning everyone, I’m the head of department,” the newcomer said, tone cool and efficient. “For anything related to your job, your submissions, deadlines, or team responsibilities, they will come through me. Understood?”

A quiet chorus of nods followed. You nodded too, still focused on your phone screen. It was taking forever to load. You squinted, trying to figure out why, until you realised you’d typed your employee ID wrong. You had tapped 7 instead of 6.

You tapped back, correcting it, only half-hearing the voice that came next.

“Right,” came a quiet chuckle. The voice was warmer this time, slightly amused. Familiar. “Sorry—I forgot the intro bit. I’m Lee Heeseung. You can call me whatever feels comfortable."

Your finger froze on the screen.

The pen you had been holding slipped from your hand and hit the floor with a small clack. You stood up so quickly your chair scraped the polished floor, every eye in the room swivelling toward you.

Heeseung paused mid-sentence, glancing in your direction. His gaze landed on you and stayed.

Your breath caught. Your brain refused to supply anything useful, like words.

Heeseung blinked, the faintest trace of recognition crossing his face but he said nothing.

“Is there an issue?” Jongseong looked up from his tablet, glancing around before his eyes landed on you. His brow furrowed slightly. “Hey, aren’t you—”

“No.” You shook your head a little too quickly, a little too firmly. “Nope.”

“But you’re—”

“Not her.”

Jongseong paused. “You didn’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I’m not who you think I am,” you replied, already feeling the heat rise to your face.

“But how do you know who I’m thinking about?” he countered, eyes narrowing slightly.

There was a long, loaded beat of silence. You could feel Jake watching your exchange, an eyebrow raised.

You exhaled.

“Okay,” you muttered, shoulders slumping slightly. “I’m her.”

“I knew it,” Jongseong said with a grin, nudging Heeseung with his elbow. “I told you she looked familiar. Didn’t you just send her that stupid lawyer–”

Heeseung cut in, his voice even. “That’s enough.”

The room was silent. 

You cleared your throat, brushing your hair behind your ear and reaching for your pen like none of that had just happened. “Anyway. Please continue, Mr. Lee.”

“Of course,” he said smoothly, stepping to the front of the room. “Where were we?”

And just like that, orientation resumed.

You sat stiffly in your seat, eyes glued to the screen at the front, pretending to take notes on the company’s mission statement while internally drafting your resignation letter in all caps.

You could feel it.

That unmistakable weight of a stare, burning, pointed, patient. Heeseung’s gaze practically drilled through the crown of your head. And you couldn’t bring yourself to look up. Not once. Not even when Jake elbowed you under the table, trying to stifle a grin.

Unbelievable. Out of all the possible outcomes in this capitalist hellscape, this was what you got?

As if that wasn’t enough to emotionally flatten you, you'd also just received a letter from his lawyers three days ago.

Because apparently, a glitter-gel-penned contract you made when you were twelve still counted.

-

“What the fuck was that?” Jake hissed, yanking you halfway out of your new ergonomic chair before you could even take a seat.

You blinked up at him. “What do you mean?”

He gestured vaguely toward the hallway. “The whole thing with Mr. Lee and Park Jong… something.”

“Seong. It’s Park Jongseong,” you corrected, brushing down the front of your blouse as you stood properly this time.

“Yeah, that. What was that about?”

You glanced around quickly. The office floor was open-concept, dotted with neatly arranged cubicles, each one separated by low partitions and decorated with cheerful onboarding folders and branded pens. Too many ears. Too much glass.

“Could you not ask me about it when his office is right there?” you muttered, trying not to move your lips too much.

As if summoned, the two of you instinctively turned your heads.

Heeseung’s office sat just a few feet away. And through the transparent wall, you saw him.

Already looking. Directly at you.

You and Jake immediately snapped your heads back around like guilty children caught cheating on a test.

You could feel the heat rush to your face. Jake ran a hand through his hair and muttered, “He definitely saw that.”

“Of course he did,” you whispered.

“Okay. Lunch,” Jake said, already tugging on your sleeve. “You’re telling me everything.”

-

“Do you remember that guy I told you about… when we first met?” you began cautiously, already regretting this entire conversation.

Jake didn’t even blink. “The almost ex who broke your heart? The one who vanished without a word, no texts, no emails, just poof? The guy you cried over every night for the first two months we shared a dorm? That guy? The one who had you in sweatpants for so long our professor personally pulled you aside after our first group presentation to suggest dressing like you hadn’t just escaped a deadly house fire?”

You gritted your teeth. “You could’ve just said yes.”

“I like my answer better,” Jake replied, flashing that annoyingly smug grin of his.

You rolled your eyes, arms folding over your chest. “Fine. Yes. It’s… that guy.”

Jake’s eyes widened so fast. “Holy fuck. Wasn’t he the one who, correct me if I’m wrong, lawyered you into marrying him like 3 days ago?”

You nodded slowly. “I doubt it’s even legal, but… yes.”

Jake leaned back in his chair, the disbelief painted across his face shifting into something almost amused. “This is highly coincidental,” he said, voice rich with sarcasm. “Almost like…it's fate.”

You stared at him for a beat, then stabbed your spoon into your bowl and shoved a mouthful of meat in before mumbling through it, “If this is what fate is, then fate’s a fucking bitch.”

-

“Do you think they’re dating?” Heeseung asked, eyes fixed on the other side of the company cafeteria. 

Jongseong followed his line of sight.

Across the room, you and Jake were seated at a small corner table, trays pushed aside, both of you laughing, loud and unbothered.. You were leaned in close, practically in tears from whatever Jake had just said.

“Looks friendly to me,” Jongseong shrugged. “Don’t tell me you’re still in love with her. Thought you hated her.”

“I do,” Heeseung said quickly. “It’s just—I don’t know. I mean… she was right in some sense.”

Jongseong didn’t miss a beat. “Dude, she didn’t even show up at the airport. You waited there like an idiot until the last minute. You almost missed your flight.”

Heeseung gave a tight laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Maybe she was busy…”

Jongseong raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, I don’t blame her,” Heeseung said quickly. “She was scared. She thought long distance would ruin us. That we’d fall apart, stop being friends, stop meaning something to each other.”

Jongseong turned his head, slow and deliberate, fixing him with that look, the one he always gave before saying something brutally true.

“Well,” he said, voice calm, “are you friends now?”

Heeseung said nothing.

“Didn’t think so,” Jongseong muttered, then grinned as he picked up a piece of kimchi. “Are you also forgetting who you video called the first hundred times you cried in Canada?”

“Why do you love bringing that up?” Heeseung groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

Jongseong took a long, smug sip of his drink, barely suppressing a grin. He turned back to his tray of cafeteria food before pointing his chopsticks at Heeseung like they were an accusation. “Because it’s funny.”

Heeseung didn’t respond, just glared at his soup.

Jongseong raised an eyebrow. “So by the looks of it, I’m guessing you really got Beomgyu to send that lawyer letter to scare her?”

“To be fair,” Heeseung muttered, “I didn’t know she’d end up under me.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jongseong said through a mouthful of rice, chuckling as he shook his head. “But if you wanna get all weirdly poetic about it, I guess this is kinda like destiny, isn’t it?”

Heeseung stared down at his tray, “Well,” he muttered, “if this is destiny then destiny’s a fucking bitch.”

-

Listen…Heeseung was smart.

He climbed Aureum’s corporate ladder in less than two years, thanks to an impressive portfolio born out of his time in Canada. Moving there had been a blessing in disguise. Academically, professionally, it launched him. He made the most of it. Graduated top of his class, turned internships into job offers, turned job offers into power.

But for all of Heeseung’s intelligence, his work ethic, and his calculated rise, if there was one thing he was consistently stupid about, it was you. He didn’t understand it. In fact, he couldn’t even explain it. You were the one area of his life that turned logic into mush and rationality into dust.

It started as a joke. A stupid, drunken mistake that should’ve stayed buried under the dim lights of some bar on a Thursday night.

It was happy hour. He and Jongseong were at their usual spot, a watering hole they swore they were too old for but kept returning to anyway. One tequila turned into four. Somewhere between rounds, Heeseung started rambling, slurred sentences about you, the past, and that dumb glitter-pen marriage pact you’d made when you were kids.

Jongseong, drunk and equally dumb, grinned and said, “Dude. You should actually send her something. Like get lawyers involved. Just to freak her out.”

Heeseung, handsome as ever and dumb as a fork, blinked. His eyes widened. “Wait. That’s… actually kind of funny.”

“No it’s not,” Jongseong had said, already laughing. “That’s what makes it brilliant.”

Which is how, somewhere around midnight, Heeseung scrolled through his contacts, called the first legal name he recognised, Choi Beomgyu, law school graduate, part-time legal consultant and said:

“Hey, can you help me draft a marriage contract?”

-

It had been two days since you started working at Aureum.

Coincidentally, it had also been two days since Heeseung had done any actual work.

Each morning, like clockwork, he walked in, tailored suit, briefcase in hand, and Prada shoes. He placed his bag neatly on the desk, powered on his computer, clicked into his emails… and then lost all sense of purpose. The first thing he did every morning was type a message to Jongseong. 

Subject: emergency i madonna die i mgona die shes lookihng voer pretty pretty u think shell love me back ohne day? Actually im jk i hate her but if hate why prtty? omg shes lookg voer...pretend teim oding work im doing many work work is fun work is cool Work . im work Best Regards Lee Heeseung Head of Marketing | Aureum & Co. 📞 +82-10-XXXX-XXXX ✉️ heeseung.lee@aureumcorp.kr 🌐 www.aureumcorp.kr “We don’t do average.”

He’d hit send. Then he'd type a second variation and send that too. On the first day, Jongseong had replied with “You good?” On the second, he didn’t respond at all. By day three, Heeseung didn’t even expect a reply. He was just venting into the void.

Heeseung told himself he just wanted a moment. A single conversation. A little closure. Maybe an opportunity to push your buttons, mess with you, throw you off your game. Because as far as he was concerned, you still owed him that. And now, here you were.

Still stupidly, infuriatingly pretty.

-

He sat behind his desk, legs crossed under the polished oak surface, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, eyes fixed on the list of new hires. 

But all Heeseung cared about was one thing: getting you alone.

He had crafted a plan that was equal parts desperate and genius, hosting a Getting to Know You session for each new employee. No one could question it. 

Nishimura Riki��Ni-ki. A boy with his hoodie still half-zipped, hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks like he was allergic to authority. He entered without knocking, took the seat opposite Heeseung with zero urgency, and stared blankly at the offered glass of water. Said maybe six words in ten minutes. Heeseung didn’t mind. He respected the quiet ones. Good for him.

Next came Kim Sunoo.

He bounced into the room like the sunlight had a personality and sat with both palms flat on the table like he was bracing for takeoff. Heeseung barely finished the question—“How’s working here so far?”—before Sunoo launched into a detailed narrative about his family, his dead turtle, and the emotional trauma of overwatering a succulent. At one point, he teared up. Heeseung slid the tissue box across the table silently. You know what, good for him too.

Then came Yang Jungwon.

Jungwon knocked twice, entered with a clipboard, and sat like a model intern. His back straight, pen ready, shoes perfectly aligned under the chair. He answered every question clearly, thoughtfully, and didn’t overshare once. Heeseung liked him. He even made a note in the corner of his notepad: Promotion material.

And then Jake Sim.

Jake entered all smiles and sunshine, like he was walking into a brunch spot instead of a corporate office. His tie was off-centre. Shirt sleeves rolled too high. Hair a little too perfect. He slid into the chair across from Heeseung, crossed one ankle over his knee like he owned the place, and grinned.

“Good afternoon, sir.”

The office suddenly felt hotter. Like the air conditioning had given up. Heeseung straightened the papers on his desk even though they were already perfectly aligned, mostly just to stop himself from flipping the table.

“So,” he started, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward with faux interest, “do you see yourself working here long?”

Jake nodded, no hesitation. “Yeah, working at Aureum is honestly a dream. It’s been on my list of dream companies since uni.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “One of your dream companies?”

Jake blinked. “Uh—well, yeah. I mean, I had a few, but Aureum was definitely—”

“So what you mean to say,” Heeseung said, leaning back slowly in his chair with a smile that was definitely not a smile, “is that you’re disloyal.”

Jake froze. “What? No! That’s not—”

Heeseung picked up his pen and made a note on the paper in front of him. It had nothing to do with Jake. He just wrote ‘boring. lame. has uglier hair than me.”

He didn’t hate Jake Sim.

He despised him.

No real reason, of course. Except that Jake seemed to be exactly the kind of person you were comfortable around. The kind you laughed too easily with. The kind you sat next to at lunch and leaned into like it was natural. Didn't help that Jake was incredibly suave and handsome. Damn it.

It wasn’t personal.

Except it completely was.

Heeseung exhaled as soon as Jake left the room, running a hand through his hair and glancing at the final name on the list.

Your name.

He cleared his throat, stood up, and walked to the small mirror near the bookshelf to fix his hair, like that would somehow fix everything else.

And for the first time all day, Heeseung felt nervous.

You cleared your throat, then knocked. Heeseung looked up instantly.

His smile appeared before he could stop it, quick and unguarded, warm enough to light the whole damn office. Then, as if remembering himself, it vanished just as fast. His expression flattened into something more controlled. Nonchalance, he reminded himself. Be cool.

But it was hard to be anything close to composed with you standing there. Your head poked through the doorway, eyes bright and curious. That little hairclip still holding your bangs to the side, the same way you used to wear it when you were younger. Your hair fell in soft waves over your shoulder, reaching just past your waist. It swayed slightly as you tilted your head.

“Can I come in?” you asked, voice soft.

“Yeah,” he said, sitting up straighter, shoving a file to the side like he hadn’t just been zoning out for ten full minutes. “Of course.”

Heeseung gestured to the chair across from him, and you made your way over, smoothing the front of your blouse before sitting down. The cushion dipped beneath you, and for a moment, you didn’t speak. Neither did he.

Heeseung cleared his throat. “Well… I already know you.”

You looked up.

A small pause.

“Do you want me to go?” you asked, half-standing.

“No!” he blurted, way too fast. He cleared his throat again, more controlled this time. 

Heeseung leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the desk, fingers tapping once against the wood before stilling. He glanced down at the paper in front of him, your employee profile probably and cleared his throat.

“So,” he began, voice measured, “you’ve been placed in the campaign strategy team.”

You nodded. “Yeah. That’s what the onboarding email said.”

He hummed, eyes scanning the paper like he didn’t already know what it said. “You’ll be working on the upcoming brand relaunch. A lot of external collaboration, internal pressure, long hours.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“You sure?” He looked up now, eyes sharp. “Because I need people who follow through. Who don’t just start strong and then bail when things get inconvenient.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

Heeseung shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “I’m asking if you’re the kind of person who sticks around when things get hard. Or if you’re more of a… run-and-disappear type.”

There was a pause. 

You stared at him, jaw tightening. “Is this about Aureum, or about us?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

And that was answer enough.

Something in your chest twisted. “Because if you want to drag the past into this, you better say it plainly. Don’t wrap it up in company protocol and pretend it’s part of my fucking job description.”

And then, quieter, more bitter, he added, “It’s just… I thought you were serious about things. But apparently, you were only serious when it was easy.”

The room felt colder.

You inhaled slowly, the words slipping out before your brain could catch up. “You left. Not me.”

Heeseung flinched but you caught it. That flicker of something raw behind his eyes. But then, just as quickly, his expression closed over, sharp and unreadable again.

“No,” he said flatly. “You left first.”

Your breath hitched. “How did I—?”

“I needed you,” he cut in, his voice low, rough, brimming with a bitterness that stung more than you were ready for. “I could’ve used support. A friend. Anything. But the girl I loved the most—” his jaw tightened, “—she left me first.”

“I—”

“So before you paint me out to be the villain,” he said, his eyes dark, voice thick with something between anger and heartbreak, “think about how you ignored me after I told you I loved you.”

Your mouth opened, then closed, your chest rising and falling too quickly. “I didn’t ignore you because of that—I…” The words caught in your throat like they were afraid to come out. “How was I supposed to react? We finally—finally—got together and then right after, you told me you were leaving.”

“It wasn’t my choice!” he shouted, the words shattering between you like glass.

There was silence after that. Not the passive kind, but the kind that stung, like a slap in the middle of a quiet room.

“Mr. Lee,” you said, tone cool, professional, clipped. “I would like to leave now, since this meeting has had nothing to do with my job and everything to do with some attempt to lower my pride or exert some kind of personal power play that I don’t want any part of.”

You reached for the doorknob. And that’s when he panicked.

His mind raced, grasping at anything, everything, until one sentence tumbled out of his mouth like the world’s worst reflex.

“You’re supposed to be marrying me.”

The words dropped heavy into the room like a weight you hadn’t seen coming. You froze, hand still on the doorknob, back turned, breath caught somewhere in your chest.

“Did you think that lawyer letter was a joke?” His voice was quieter now, but there was something about the way he said it—like he was testing the air between you, like he wasn’t sure if you’d laugh or scream.

Slowly, you turned around, brows drawn together, the confusion and disbelief etched across your face. “Heeseung, that was a contract from when we were kids. Do you really think I’m some kind of idiot?”

He didn’t flinch. “It still stands actually… unless you want to get sued.”

You blinked. “Are you fucking with me?”

Heeseung held your gaze, mouth twitching into a slow, lopsided smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do I look like I’m fucking with you?”

And then, he started walking toward you. Steady, unhurried steps that somehow made the air feel thinner with every inch he closed between you. Your heart began to pound erratically in your chest, loud enough you were almost certain he could hear it. Damn him for looking like that—like a fucking model in fitted slacks and a shirt that clung just right to his frame.

He stopped in front of you, close enough for you to catch the faintest scent of his cologne, clean and a little woodsy. God, he was hot.

“Because I’m not.”

“You are insane!” you hissed, voice rising.

“I’m not the one yelling in a see-through office,” he replied, gesturing lazily to the glass walls.

You paused, suddenly aware of the four to five people from accounting who were staring directly at the scene. You cleared your throat and lowered your voice only slightly. “I am not marrying you, Heeseung.”

He clicked his tongue and placed his tea down. “Did you read the bottom? The fine print?”

“I’m not reading anything that came from you and your fuckass lawyer,” you snapped.

Heeseung sighed, took off his glasses, and rubbed his temples like you were the one being unreasonable. “If you bothered to read a very legal document, you’d know that... it’s either marriage,” he paused to take another sip, “or you pay $20,000.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“$20,000,” he repeated, a little too casually. “As outlined clearly in the exit clause.”

Your jaw dropped. “And where is a girl who JUST started working supposed to get that kind of money?”

Heeseung shrugged, stepping closer. His footsteps were slow, annoyingly calm. He stopped right in front of you and gently lifted your chin with two fingers, like he was mocking you. “Well,” he said, voice low and irritatingly smug, “that’s up to you.”

You swatted his hand away, hard. “I am not marrying you,” you repeated, practically growling.

“So you’re giving me the $20,000 then?” he offered again, tilting his head, lips forming a mock pout.

You narrowed your eyes, then without thinking, leaned in and bit his fingers.

“OW—what the f—” He jerked his hand back with a laugh. 

“I should’ve bit your face,” you muttered.

Heeseung grinned through the sting, shaking his hand. “Or... and I’m just spitballing here,” he said, stepping back with an exaggerated stretch, “I let you go—no marriage, no payment—if you do everything I say for one year.”

You stared at him like he’d grown three heads. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“Come on,” he said, tilting his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Just a year of doing whatever I say.”

You crossed your arms. “Three months.”

“Eight,” he shot back, without missing a beat.

“Four.”

“Six.”

You squinted at him. “Five and I don’t get you coffee.”

“Nope. Six, and you do exactly what I say.”

The air between you crackled, neither of you willing to back down. You stepped closer, closing the space between you with slow, deliberate steps until you were standing toe-to-toe in front of his desk. He didn’t flinch. If anything, he leaned in, eyes dark with challenge, the corners of his mouth curling like he was already claiming victory.

Your nose nearly brushed his. “Fine,” you hissed. “Six months. But if you so much as make me iron your stupid ass fancy Prada suit, I’m out.”

“Okay,” Heeseung said smoothly, his voice low and maddeningly smug. His breath fanned your face. “But you should know, I don’t wear wrinkled suits.”

-

And thus began the worst month of your life.

Day 1: He made you sort his alphabetised collection of business cards… in cursive. Handwritten. On new cards. With a quill. “It builds character,” he said..

Day 5: He scheduled a client meeting at 7am. You arrived. There was no client. He strolled in at 10 with a latte and said, “Wow. You’re early. How driven.”

Day 6: Assigned you to shadow a client. You followed a random man around a bookstore for 45 minutes before he texted: “Wrong guy btw.”

Day 9: Email subject line: “URGENT – FOOT EMERGENCY.” The body? “Buy me socks.” No context. Follow-up email: “With little cartoon frogs. The happier the better.”

Day 11: He asked you to water the plants in his office. None were real. One was a coat rack. You watered it anyway. He thanked you with a straight face.

Day 13: He demanded lunch delivered to his apartment. On your break. You found him mid-couch, watching Shrek 2 with subtitles and a face mask on. “Wanna join me?”

Day 16: Made you create a 23-slide presentation titled: “Why Lee Heeseung Is the Greatest Asset to This Company and Mankind.” You had to present it. To two confused interns and Park Jongseong, who heckled the whole time.

Day 18: Sent you to buy exactly 50 blueberries. “Not 49. Not 51. 50. Count them.” You did. The cashier thought you were insane.

Day 23: Assigned you to “reorganise the supply cabinet.” Inside was a single banana, a picture of himself and Jongseong’s car keys.

God. you hated Lee Heeseung.

-

The soft clink of chopsticks against a lunch container echoed across the sleek, minimal office. Jongseong sat casually on Heeseung’s guest couch, feet kicked up, poking at his lunch.

“You know,” Jongseong began between bites, “this little revenge you’ve got going on? Don’t you think it’s starting to get a little...much?”

Heeseung didn’t look up. “What’s much?”

“You made her pretend to be a floor tile last week.”

Heeseung barely blinked, expression flat.

“And to be fair, she was very convincing,” he muttered, like it was a genuine compliment.

Jongseong set his chopsticks down, suddenly serious. “Hee. Be honest. Are you trying to punish her, or are you just scared to talk to her like a normal human being?”

Heeseung’s lips parted, but no words came out. His jaw flexed. The silence stretched, and for the first time in weeks, he hesitated.

“I don’t know,” he finally said, voice lower than usual. 

Just then, the door swung open. You strode in without knocking, your eyes on fire and your movements sharper than necessary. You slammed a paper bag on his desk, the contents shifting loudly inside.

“Here’s your goddamn lunch,” you snapped, not sparing him a glance.

And before he could even process the noise, you turned on your heel and stormed out, leaving the door wide open in your wake.

A beat of stunned silence passed.

Jongseong blinked. “You sure she’s not poisoning that?”

Heeseung finally looked down at the crumpled paper bag, then at the door you’d stormed out through. He didn’t move for a moment, fingers hovering near the bag, like it might explode.

Then, with a low sigh, he leaned back in his chair, swivelling slightly toward Jongseong. “Can you check if she’s had lunch?”

Jongseong narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“I’m just saying, she’s been running around all morning like a lunatic. Maybe she skipped lunch.”

“Why don’t you check yourself?” Jongseong smirked, already enjoying this. “Or better yet, pack it for her next time. Maybe write a little note with hearts on it.”

Heeseung groaned and rubbed his face with one hand. “Jesus. I’m not in love with her.”

“I never said love,” Jongseong sang. “You did.”

Heeseung glared at him. “I’m just doing what a responsible boss would do. Basic leadership. Workforce efficiency. You know, keeping employees from fainting.”

“By micromanaging her blood sugar?”

Heeseung pointed at him, still scowling. “Shut up and just go check.”

Jongseong stood, grabbing his soda and grinning. “Whatever you say, boss.”

As he walked out, he muttered just loud enough for Heeseung to hear, “Bet if she skipped lunch, you’d hand-feed her a five-course meal.”

Heeseung didn’t respond. He just turned back to the lunch bag and quietly moved it a little closer to his side of the desk.

-

You were done. You hated Lee Heeseung with every fibre of your being.

You had been mid-task, setting up a fragile product display for a major investor walkthrough—when the shelf gave way beneath your hand. One of the glass panels slipped, and in your rush to keep it from shattering, your palm dragged hard against the sharp metal edge of the support frame. You hissed, sucking in a breath as pain bloomed across your skin, followed by a streak of red pooling fast..

It wasn’t life-threatening, but it was definitely more than a paper cut. You stood frozen for a second, blood dripping onto the glossy marble floor, the scent of antiseptic and showroom polish mixing unpleasantly in the air.

Heeseung was across the room but moved in an instant, almost stupidly concerned. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice sharp with something that sounded a lot like panic.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, clenching your hand as if squeezing the pain away.

“Let me see.” He was already digging in the drawer for the office first aid kit, grabbing a pack of antiseptic wipes and a bandage like it was muscle memory.

You pulled your hand away before he could touch you. “Can I go now?”

He froze. “I’m just trying to help. Stop being so stubborn.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “Are you serious right now? You’re the one who sent me to fix a million-dollar display alone. Don’t act like you suddenly care.”

Then you walked off without another word, your wound throbbing in time with the storm brewing behind your ribs.

Heeseung stood there, staring at the streak of blood you left behind on the polished floor. The silence in the showroom echoed louder than it should’ve. The first aid kit was still in his hands, unopened. For once, he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

Had he been too harsh?

The thought circled, bitter and biting. He meant to keep things light, or at least ridiculous. Make you squirm a little. Maybe even get back at you for leaving him all those years ago. But this? Watching you walk away, shoulders tense, hand bleeding—this didn’t feel like winning.

It felt like being the asshole.

He set the first aid kit down a little too hard on the nearest counter and exhaled slowly. Damn it. He hadn’t wanted to actually hurt you.

Maybe Jongseong was right. Maybe this whole thing was going too far.

And maybe, just maybe, he needed to stop acting like he wasn’t still in love with you.

But god, you made it so damn hard.

-

You hadn’t spoken to him. Not once. Not since that night.

You hated what he’d turned into, this cold, distant version of the boy who once knew you like the back of his hand. He was still familiar, his face carved a little finer now, his jaw set a little firmer, but everything else? Foreign. A stranger wrapped in the skin of someone you used to love.

He used to be yours.

The boy who’d race across districts just to find that one ridiculous snack you were obsessed with because the local mart ran out. The one who never let you cry alone, whose hoodie always smelled like laundry powder and peanuts, who sat silently beside you, his arm around your shoulder, steady as a heartbeat.

He wasn’t that boy anymore. He wasn’t the one who once turned to you, eyes soft and sure, and said, I love you.

Not anymore.

But somehow, even through the pounding in your chest and the sting behind your eyes, you couldn’t help but feel it, that awful, twisting weight in your stomach. Guilt.

Because he was right.

You had left him first. You had pulled away. When he needed you the most, you had shut down, locked the door, and disappeared behind your own fear.

He was scared. Of course he was. Scared of leaving everything behind. Scared of starting over in a place where no one knew his name or the way he liked his coffee or how he bit his lip when he was nervous. Scared of being alone in a country halfway across the world. And the only person he had counted on to be his constant, you, had walked away.

-

6 YEARS AGO

Heeseung’s palms were sweating. His grip on the bouquet tightened, the white petals of the daisies trembling ever so slightly, your favourite flower. He glanced at his watch, then at his shoes, then back again, heart pounding louder with each passing second. It was noon. You’d be here any moment.

And he felt like he might be sick.

Just yesterday, everything had changed. His parents had sat him down with carefully measured smiles and voices too gentle to be comforting, ‘We’re moving to Canada. It’s a good opportunity. It’s what’s best for the family.’

But what about him? What about you?

His throat turned dry, mouth full of words he didn’t know how to say.

Today was supposed to be your first date. The start of something new, something real. Just two days ago, he’d stood under the willow tree with shaking hands and a confession written at the back of his hand. Then, he’d told you he liked you. And you had kissed him for the first time. 

This day was meant to be perfect. But now, all he could feel was the weight of goodbye on his shoulders and it stunk.

And then there you were.

Pretty as ever, like he hadn't just found out his universe was crashing just the day before. You waltzed into view with a skip in your step, a loose, ribboned blouse tucked into jeans, your hair tied up in a ponytail that swayed with every bounce. Your eyes were wide, full of light, full of him, and everything in you screamed excitement for the day ahead.

“Flowers?” you grinned, raising a brow. “Didn’t think you were the type.”

Heeseung’s lips curved before he could stop them. “Then maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought.”

And just like that, the knot in his chest loosened. Just like that, he remembered how you always made him feel. Like everything was okay even when nothing was.

Then you smiled. And he was wrecked all over again.

You reached out, fingers finding his, lacing them together. “So…” you murmured as your hands swung between you, “where we going today?”

“I’m not one to spill secrets.”

“Oh? And is it a crime to wonder what my best friend has planned for our very first date?”

Heeseung winced playfully, biting his lip. “God, the word friend is starting to drive me insane.”

You laughed, soft and teasing. “Well, you haven’t actually asked, so I can’t just go around calling myself your girlfriend. That’d be… desperate.”

“You could reek of desperation,” he said, gaze steady, “and I think I’d still be in love with you.”

You let out a low whistle, raising a brow. “Damn. Dropping the L bomb already?” You leaned in with a crooked grin. “Didn’t peg you as a simp, Lee.”

“And I didn’t peg you as a hater,” Heeseung shot back, his smile matching yours.

Heeseung led you down a winding trail, hand in hand, until the trees parted to reveal a quiet creek. The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves. A few couples lounged on checkered blankets, laughter drifting through the breeze. It was peaceful, idyllic.

“Ta-da,” he said, stepping aside with a grin so wide it made your heart stutter.

Before you was his surprise: a small picnic set up just for the two of you. A rattan mat stretched across the grass, a modest basket nestled in the middle. Inside were some store-bought sandwiches, your favourite yoghurt drinks, and tucked beside it all, two small square canvases with a neat set of watercolours.

“We’re painting,” he announced proudly.

You stared at him, then burst into laughter. “So we’re being secretive and artsy now? Who are you and what have you done with Lee Heeseung?”

He nudged your shoulder, feigning offense. “Hey, I can be romantic.”

“Oh please, you totally stole this off Pinterest.”

“Guilty,” he admitted shamelessly. “Honestly, it’s a miracle I even got Jongseong to help set this up while I distracted you.”

As if summoned by name, Jongseong emerged from behind a tree with a dramatic sigh.

“I swear, I do the darndest things for you,” he muttered, stepping into view, brushing off invisible dirt. “Now enjoy, lovebirds. Just remember, if the ravens start circling and steal your food, don’t come crying to me.”

The two of you had spent hours painting and teasing, talking over each other, laughing so hard it echoed off the trees.

“That’s supposed to be me?” you scoffed, squinting at his canvas. “Why are my eyes two completely different sizes?”

“It’s a work in progress,” Heeseung said, scandalised, snatching the canvas back. “Stop looking at mine!”

“I can’t help it! It’s like watching a train wreck happen in slow motion.”

“Oh, like yours is any better?” he shot back, rolling his eyes. “Why are my eyes so far apart?”

“They’re not!”

“They’re a mile away from each other,” he groaned, holding his face dramatically.

You gasped. “I think they look nice!”

“You made me look like E.T.!”

“They look nice, you’re just picky!” you snapped, pointing at the eyes you’d painted. “They’ve got that same sparkle your eyes have! See? Both pretty.”

He blinked. Then his cheeks turned pink. “So you do think my eyes are pretty.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You just said that.”

“No, I said my painting was pretty.”

“Oh, so now we’re pretending?” he drawled, a slow smile curving on his lips. “We kissed two days ago, and you’re back to acting like calling me pretty is a scandalous revelation? Pretending we’re just best friends again?”

His arm brushed behind you, anchoring against the mat, his body leaning a little closer, warm and steady beside yours.

You swallowed hard. “Well… you are my best friend.”

“Am I?” His voice was softer now, like velvet.

You nodded, a breath catching in your throat. “Y-Yes.”

He hummed, tilting his head. “That’s a pity. I really liked kissing you.”

Then he leaned in. His eyes flicked to your lips and you froze. You waited, heart pounding, lips parted slightly, breath shallow. Eyes fluttering closed.

And then…

Nothing.

You opened your eyes to find him gone, leaned back with a smug grin and the audacity to be laughing.

“You fucking asshole,” you hissed, shoving him with a pout, arms crossed tight across your chest.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Heeseung wheezed, still laughing as he reached for your wrist, trying to pull you back.

You turned away, refusing. “You just love embarrassing me.”

“Aww, come on, I was joking.” He bumped his shoulder gently into yours, trying to peek at your face. “You looked so cute.”

“You just want to humiliate me for your own selfish amusement.”

“Aw, baby, please—I was kidding—”

You both froze.

Baby.

Your head turned slowly. “What did you just call me?”

“Nothing.”

“You called me the b word.”

“I’d never call you a bitch,” he said quickly.

“No, not that b word.”

“Best friend?”

“Heeseung.”

“Okay, okay,” Heeseung said, hands raised in surrender, the corners of his lips still twitching with that smug, boyish grin of his. “Fine.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than it should have, stretched tight between you like a string neither of you wanted to pull too hard in case it snapped. The leaves rustled above, a soft hush from the wind, but you couldn’t hear any of it over the way your heart was pounding.

You cleared your throat, trying to sound casual but your voice still came out sharper than planned. “If you’re not gonna ask me to be your girlfriend, then fuck it.”

He blinked, startled. “Huh?”

You turned your body fully to face him now, cheeks hot, but your eyes steady. “Heeseung?”

He straightened a little, eyes narrowing in confusion, like he wasn’t sure if he was being messed with. “What?”

Your lips curled upward, small but sure. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Heeseung stared.

And for a moment, there was nothing. No cheeky remark or flirty deflection. Just silence.

You hadn’t expected silence. You were bracing yourself for a grin, for the way he’d pull you into a hug and say yes like it was the easiest thing in the world. But he didn’t.

“Hee?” you said softly, your voice faltering, a knot of dread starting to twist in your chest. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I… can’t,” he whispered, barely audible.

You blinked. “What?”

Heeseung’s gaze dropped to the rattan mat between you. His fingers curled into the fabric like he could steady himself with something solid, something real, but the words still caught in his throat. How was he supposed to say it? How could he tell you now after everything? After the daisies. After telling you he loved you. After you asked him that question.

“I’m leaving,” he said, suddenly. The words spilled out like they’d been choking him.

You laughed, but it was hollow, disbelieving. “Leaving?"

“My dad,” he murmured, eyes still downcast. “He got a job offer. In Canada. We’re moving. I’m going with him.”

You sat there for a second, like the wind had been knocked out of you. And then you swallowed hard.

-

You hated reliving that memory.

It haunted you in quiet moments, when the house was too still, when a familiar song played, when someone said his name by accident and the air shifted. That gnawing, hollow ache of losing your best friend. The ache of watching someone who once felt like home turn into a goodbye you never got to say properly.

You’d stopped talking to him not out of cruelty, but because every word felt like watching him slip further away. Because you were scared. Because it hurt. Because loving him and losing him at the same time felt unbearable. You were selfish, and you understood that now. But he was leaving. And what did a couple of teenagers really know about long distance? About staying in love through time zones and silence?

You told him that. You stood there crying and told him it wouldn't work. That it was better to end it before it hurt more. He shook his head. He believed that if you loved each other enough, you could survive anything.

But what could you have given him that would make him stay?

You were no one special. Just a girl. And deep down, you’d convinced yourself he deserved better, someone who could give him everything he was reaching for.

Your own insecurities… they were the cracks that broke everything apart. And by the time you realised that, by the time the fog of fear cleared and you understood what you’d done, he was already gone.

Instead of blaming yourself, you clung to bitterness. You told yourself he was the one who left without saying goodbye. You told yourself he should’ve told you the date, that he should’ve made it clearer. You told yourself that if you had known, you would’ve run to him. That you would’ve fought harder.

But he didn’t tell you.

 And you didn’t ask.

 And that was the end of it.

You sent message after message after he left. DMs, texts, half-drafted emails, all swallowed by silence. No reply. No closure. You watched his life unfold through your screen. New friends. New places. A girlfriend.

He looked happy.

And in some twisted, aching way, you knew you had done the right thing. You had let him go.  And maybe he was never yours to keep.

-

PRESENT

“Did you eat the last cronut in the pantry?” you asked, narrowing your eyes as you kicked Jake’s shin under the table.

He flinched and gave you an innocent look that was anything but. “Nope. I think that Ni-ki kid did.”

“Aw, man,” you groaned, sinking further into your chair.

The two of you were slouched in the company conference room, half-heartedly going over the slides for a pitch that your project manager, Park Sunghoon, had asked you to prepare. The room was quiet except for the tapping of your laptop keys and Jake’s occasional groan of disapproval whenever a client email annoyed him.

Then your elbow nudged into his side. “Hey, do you think Park Sunghoon’s hot?”

Jake barely glanced up. “He’s alright.”

“Alright?” You stared at him like he had personally offended you. “Dude, look at him. Jawline? Chiseled. Eyes? Big and brooding. And those muscles—my God, I can see them through his shirt.”

You pointed through the glass wall of the conference room where Park Sunghoon stood in conversation with another colleague, Jungwon, looking far too polished for a Thursday.

Then a throat cleared behind you.

You froze. Jake froze.

The two of you slowly turned around to find Heeseung standing at the doorway, an unreadable expression on his face and a very prominent vein pulsing in his jaw.

Your squeal was high-pitched and unmistakably guilty.

“Mr Lee! We were just working,” Jake said quickly, voice smooth but eyes flickering with panic.

You didn’t say a word. Still not speaking to Heeseung. Not after what he had essentially made you do.

Heeseung shifted awkwardly in the doorway, scratching the back of his neck like he wished he’d knocked first. “I—uh—I need one of you to be my assistant for tomorrow’s meeting in Busan.”

“Busan?” Jake blinked, his brows lifting. “I can’t. I’ve got that strategy consult with Sunoo.”

Then Heeseung turned to you. His voice gentled, just slightly. “You?”

You nodded, keeping your eyes fixed on your laptop screen, fingers still tapping random nonsense into the spreadsheet just to look busy.

“I’ll get a car to pick you up at eight,” he said, hesitating like he wanted to say something else. But he didn’t.

You nodded again. Still didn’t look at him. And then he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him, but his presence still hung heavy in the air like the scent of cologne he always wore.

Jake let out a long, low whistle. “You guys are so dead.”

-

Heeseung had told you to pack light. Light, as if you weren’t being dragged into a two-day conference in Busan with the human equivalent of the devil. Unfortunately, there was no suitcase small enough to prepare you for the storm of spending that much uninterrupted time with Lee Heeseung.

It was 6 in the morning, and the sky was still the kind of grey that made everything look sleepy and slightly unreal. You stood outside your apartment building, rubbing your eyes, a hat over your messy hair.

Jake stood beside you like a 1960’s housewife sending off her husband. Dressed in a hoodie tossed over his pyjamas, yawning every three minutes, he looked one gust of wind away from collapsing back into bed.

“You can go back inside and sleep, Jake.”

“I know,” he said, rubbing his eyes, “but I need to see you get into the car safely or I’ll assume someone kidnapped you and I can’t pay rent alone.”

“You could just say you care about me.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” Jake grinned. “God, you’re shivering,” he muttered, before shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders without another word.

Just then, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. Right as Jake tucked the jacket around you, the window rolled down, revealing Heeseung behind the wheel.

You blinked. “I thought you were sending over a car.”

“He couldn’t make it,” Heeseung said coolly. “So I’m driving us there.”

Your jaw dropped. “You want me to sit in a rolling asylum with you for five hours?”

“Just get in,” he said with an eye roll, already unlocking the doors.

You turned to Jake dramatically. “If I don’t make it back, it means Heeseung has killed me and buried my body in the woods.”

Jake snorted. “Don’t be dramatic,” he said, before softening. “But seriously, text me every hour just so I know you’re alive.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Bye! Be safe!” he called out, watching as you reluctantly opened the passenger door and slid in, still wrapped in his jacket.

And just like that, the trip began.

-

The first hour passed in heavy silence, broken only by the occasional shuffle of your legs adjusting uncomfortably or the low hum of the road beneath the tyres. You stared out the window, arms folded, trying to pretend you weren’t painfully aware of Heeseung sitting just inches away.

Then, out of nowhere, he cleared his throat. “So… are you and Jake together?”

You choked on your own saliva, coughing into your elbow as you glared at him. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Heeseung nodded, unbothered, eyes fixed on the road.

Another three minutes of silence wrapped around the car. You sighed, leaning your head against the window.

“But if you must know,” you muttered, “no. We’re not.”

“Oh,” he replied, nonchalant. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You turned to him, brow raised. “Never had a female friend before?”

His lips quirked. “Had one. Just like you. In fact, I think it was you.”

That shut you up.

-

You trailed behind Heeseung, dragging both your suitcase and his, the wheels rattling against the tiled floor. Somewhere along the line, you'd just… assumed this was your role for the trip. His assistant. His shadow. His indentured servant, thanks to that ridiculous contract or what would’ve been a $20,000 debt hanging over your head if you refused.

You didn’t complain. Not out loud, at least. But inside, you were already cursing every single decision that led you here.

But before you could even reach the hotel lobby, Heeseung turned around and without a word, took both suitcases straight out of your hands.

“I can do—” you started, blinking.

“Shh,” he said, not even looking at you as he cut you off with a single syllable, raising one hand dismissively.

You stared at him, stunned, as he coolly rolled the two bags into the hotel. Like you hadn’t spent the last hour building him up in your head as the undefeated king of petty power plays.

And now he was carrying your luggage.

You hated that your heart skipped a little.

“I have a reservation Under Lee?” Heeseung said to the hotel receptionist, casually placing both suitcases beside the counter.

You stood just behind him, twiddling your thumbs and trying not to look like someone being dragged into a hostage situation.

“Oh!” the receptionist squeaked, her eyes lighting up. “Lee Taehyun, right? This must be your beautiful new bride! You two look so good together!” She beamed, completely unaware of your soul leaving your body. “And for newlyweds, we actually have a special promotion going on, rose petal turndown service, champagne on ice, and, of course, a complimentary aphrodisiac dessert to spark the honeymoon magic.” She winked.

You sputtered. “No. No, no. Absolutely not. We’re not Lee Taehyun or Lee whatever-he-is. We are Lee Heeseung. Could you please check that instead? Thank you.”

Heeseung scoffed beside you. “Calm down.”

“Calm down?” you hissed, turning toward him with wide eyes. “She was about to sell us off to the forest spirits and feed us magical truffles so we could get pregnant and return here every anniversary for the rest of our cursed lives.”

Heeseung sighed, rubbing his temples like he’d heard this exact flavour of overthinking from you a hundred times before. “Still as dramatic as ever.”

You huffed, crossing your arms and looking away. Okay. Maybe you had gone a little off the rails with the cursed honeymoon fantasy, but still. Aphrodisiacs? Really?

“…Whatever.”

“Oh, right!” the receptionist chirped, tapping away at her keyboard. “Here we have it—a suite reserved for Mr Lee and his girlfriend.”

Heeseung blinked. “Suite?”

She nodded, all smiles. “Yes, sir. One king bed, ocean view, complimentary couple’s spa vouchers. Booked by a Mr Park Jongseong.”

Heeseung’s eye twitched. “No, that can’t be right. I got Jongseong to reserve two single rooms.”

She frowned, double-checking the screen. “I’m afraid this is all we have under your name. Mr Park Jongseong booked you a suite.”

Heeseung let out a slow exhale, the kind that clearly said I’m going to murder someone when this is over.

Fucking no-good Park Jongseong, he thought, gripping the edge of the counter. Ruining my life once again.

“Well, can you change it to two single rooms?” Heeseung asked, voice strained but still clinging to the last threads of patience.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the receptionist said with an apologetic smile. “That suite is the only room available tonight.”

“No, but—”

“It’ll be fine. Thank you!” you cut in brightly, grabbing the room key from the counter before he could dig himself deeper. You turned and started walking toward the elevators without looking back.

Heeseung followed, flabbergasted. “How is this fine?”

“Oh, relax,” you said, pressing the elevator button. “We’re just sharing a room.”

“Ten minutes ago, you looked horrified at the idea of someone thinking we were a couple, and now you’re suddenly fine with us sharing a bed?”

You turned to him with a sweet smile. “Oh, we’re not sharing a bed. You’re sleeping on the couch.”

He scoffed. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh yes, you are. I’m a woman.”

“And you also owe me $20,000.”

You turned your head sharply toward him, narrowing your eyes.

Heeseung smirked. The elevator doors slid open. This was going to be a very long trip.

-

This was one of the rare times you’d seen Heeseung serious and you hated to admit it, but it was kind of… annoyingly attractive. The way he stood there, hands tucked into his pockets, voice steady and low as he discussed strategy and projections like he actually cared. His posture, his tone, the faint crease between his brows, it all screamed quiet authority.

“I heard you’re quite the hopeless romantic, Mr Kim,” Heeseung joked mid-discussion, flashing a polite smile.

Mr Kim, a big-shot client who’d made waves in the industry, chuckled. He was currently planning to invest in a luxury jewellery company as a surprise anniversary gift for his wife. Conveniently, Aureum had just acquired one of the most prestigious jewellery lines in the country. Heeseung saw it as a win-win.

“Well, I’m sure you’d understand, Mr Lee,” Mr Kim replied, eyes glinting knowingly.

Heeseung cleared his throat. “Of course.”

The truth? He was bluffing. Completely. 

Heeseung had heard stories from others who’d worked with Mr Kim, he valued authenticity, sentiment, sincerity. The only reason the man was even entertaining a partnership with Aureum was because Heeseung had, against every corporate bone in his body, lied and said they were alike. That he too was deeply in love, devoted to his long-term partner.

Meanwhile, you were perfectly content by the buffet table, happily snacking on hors d’oeuvres. Free food, no responsibilities? You were thriving.

“I’d love to meet her,” Mr Kim said suddenly, sipping his drink. “You said you brought her here today?”

Heeseung hesitated for only a beat before nodding. “Uh, I did.”

Mr Kim looked around. “Where is she?”

There was a long, tense pause. Heeseung glanced around the room, praying for a miracle. Then his eyes landed on you, halfway through chewing a mini tart, looking entirely unbothered and, in his opinion, far too cute for your own good.

“There,” he said, pointing. “She’s right over there.”

Mr Kim followed his gaze and smiled. “She’s beautiful. Seems just like what your type would be.”

Heeseung forced a smile, hand loosening slightly around his glass.

God, you were gonna kill him.

Then you wandered over, completely unaware of everything, happily licking tart crumbs off your thumb. “Have you tried the tarts?” you said cheerfully. “They’re so good.”

Heeseung turned to you. “There you are,” he said, voice dripping with sudden warmth. It was…weird. You looked at him, eyebrows raised, but he was already putting on his best smile. “I was just talking about you to Mr Kim.”

You blinked, gaze shifting to the man in front of you. Oh. Mr Kim. You knew who he was. Big client. Even bigger deal.

You quickly bowed. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Ah,” Mr Kim said, smiling warmly. “Heeseung tells me about you all the time.”

Your head snapped toward Heeseung. “He has?”

“He told me you were beautiful,” Mr Kim continued, chuckling. “And I see now he didn’t lie.”

Your eyes narrowed just a fraction, head tilting. “He did?”

“You seem surprised,” Mr Kim said, raising a brow, clearly confused by the disconnect.

Then you felt a light poke on your back. Heeseung leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper against your ear. “Play along and I’ll let go of the $20,000.”

You straightened immediately, laughing a little too quickly. “Oh! I’m just surprised he talks about me, that’s all.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Mr Kim said warmly. “You’re beautiful. The two of you look beautiful together.”

And then you froze.

Beautiful together?

You gulped, lips twitching into a forced smile. 

Back in the hotel room, you slammed the door behind you, nearly tripping over your own suitcase.

“You’re insane,” you snapped, spinning on your heel to face Heeseung.

“Look,” he said calmly, shrugging off his blazer and tossing it onto the couch, “just do this for two days, and I let go of the twenty grand. Seems like a win-win, doesn’t it?”

You stared at him, jaw dropped. “I can’t even stand being in the same room as you for two days, and you want me to pretend I’m your fiancée? You are actually, clinically insane.”

Heeseung gave you a lazy smile, then leaned against the table. “The deal’s already done. Once these two days are over, you’re free. Mr Kim’s contract is worth a million dollars to the company. So either you suck it up and act like you're in love with me… or you pay me one million—plus the existing twenty thousand you already owe.”

You stared at him. Then blinked. Then stared some more.

Your brain scrambled for a response, but all it managed was a silent scream and a thousand curse words you couldn’t legally say out loud.

You gulped, glaring at him through gritted teeth. “…Fine.”

-

It was the night of the conference. The hotel ballroom was already packed, sleek suits, designer gowns, the clinking of wine glasses, and enough perfume to drown in. Just the thought of having to smile and lie to at least a hundred people about being Heeseung’s loving, devoted fiancée made your stomach twist.

Earlier, Heeseung had sent you to a nearby salon, muttering something about how he refused to walk in with someone who “looked like they just rolled out of a laundry pile.” You’d wanted to punch him. But now, walking out of the room, you… almost didn’t recognise yourself.

Your hair was done in a half-up ponytail, the rest curled into soft, elegant ringlets. The makeup was natural but glowing, and the pink dress they sent up fit so well, hugging the right places, flowing gracefully just at your knees. Pink ballet heels, delicate dangling earrings brushing your collarbones. You looked like you belonged here.

But you didn’t feel like it.

Heeseung had already left for the conference earlier, texting only once to tell you where to meet him and, of course, to not embarrass him.

Charming.

You stepped into the corridor, a bit dazed, and decided to take the longer route through the golf course. There was a lake just beyond the path. The air was crisp, the sky painted with fading pinks and purples. You’d never stayed anywhere this fancy before. It felt like walking through someone else’s life.

Then you spotted it.

A lady in a chef’s hat, sprinting awkwardly across the green grass, arms outstretched, chasing something. A blur of white darted ahead of her.

A rabbit.

Your eyes widened. Were they going to cook it? Serve it at dinner for the hotel guests? You knew people ate rabbit. You weren’t someone to judge—“let people eat what they want” was practically your moral code—but the way the rabbit bounced in terror, its tiny legs scrambling to escape?

No. Nope. Couldn’t do it.

Without hesitation, you lifted the hem of your dress and ran. Full sprint. Across the grass, heels sinking slightly into the dirt, heart thudding as you caught up. With an ungraceful lunge, you scooped the bunny into your arms.

“Please don’t kill him!” you cried, standing defensively in front of the chef.

The chef skidded to a stop, looking at you like you were the crazy one. “What?”

“I know he’s probably delicious, but please! Don’t do it!” You clutched the rabbit tighter. “He’s scared! Look at him!”

The woman blinked… then chuckled. “Miss.”

“I’ll give you money,” you blurted. “I don’t have much but I’ll transfer to you some, just please, let him go!”

She laughed harder now, motioning to the other side of the lawn. “Miss… the rabbit’s a family pet. We’re just trying to get her back into the hotel suite. You see?”

You followed her finger and saw another staff member standing sheepishly beside an open rabbit cage.

“Oh.”

The chef blinked at you for a second, startled, before her features slowly softened into a smile, wide, warm, the kind only older women could pull off.

You were still clutching the rabbit like it was a child in danger.

“Oh, sweetheart,” the older woman said, chuckling as she approached you gently, palms raised like she didn’t want to startle you this time. “We’re not gonna cook the bunny.”

You blinked, still catching your breath. “So… you’re really not going to cook him?”

She laughed, her whole frame shaking. “No, darling. This naughty girl escaped from our suite when the door was left open. We’ve been trying to catch her for the last twenty minutes. But thank you for your… enthusiasm.”

You looked down at the rabbit, who blinked lazily in your arms.

The chef stepped closer and gently took the bunny from your arms. But before she stepped away, she paused, looking at you with a fond smile.

“You’re too cute,” she said softly, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. “Such a kind heart, and so pretty too.”

And then the chef walked off, humming to herself, rabbit nestled contently in her arms like none of the chaos had just happened.

You glanced down at your watch—and froze.

“Crap!” you hissed, eyes widening. You were 10 minutes late. You were supposed to meet Heeseung 10 minutes ago, and knowing him, he probably already assumed you'd either bailed or spontaneously combusted. You lifted the hem of your dress and took off running, again, heels clicking wildly against the marble floor as you made a mad dash through the hotel.

-

Heeseung stood at the entrance of the ballroom, posture stiff, hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored suit. His tie was perfect, his expression… not. He had done the early rounds, greeted the important names, planted the seeds for tonight’s main pitch, and now all he needed was his fake fiancée.

He looked down at his watch for the fourth time. Then toward the entrance. Then back at his watch. He groaned under his breath, jaw tightening.

Of course you were late. Of course you’d leave him hanging, tonight of all nights. He was already imagining himself pulling out his phone to text you a series of snarky messages when the ballroom doors opened. 

And then you stepped in.

Heeseung's breath caught mid-sentence, mid-thought, mid-everything. Time didn’t slow down; it stopped. He swore the music dimmed just to make space for the sound of his heartbeat. There you were, framed by the golden light of the chandeliers, hair curled into soft, glimmering ringlets that fell perfectly over your shoulders. Your heels clicked gently against the floor, matching your earrings that caught the light with every step, brushing your collarbones like a secret. You looked perfect. 

And Heeseung? Heeseung forgot what air was. Forgot that this was a business event. Forgot that this was pretend. All he could think was that no one else in the room existed but you.

You made your way toward him, a little breathless, cheeks warm, your eyes meeting his with that familiar glint of mischief and irritation and something softer underneath. He cleared his throat, awkwardly adjusting his collar like it was suddenly suffocating him.

“You’re… late,” he muttered, voice low, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably—because all he could think was how the hell do you look this pretty and expect me to act normal?

“I was trying to save a bunny,” you said, completely serious. Your brows were drawn together in the most sincere little frown, concern written all over your face like you were still thinking about the damn rabbit.

Heeseung blinked.

You had that look in your eyes, the one where they went all wide and sparkly and impossibly earnest. 

He was this close to melting. Just folding into your arms right then and there, because what the hell. Who gave you the right to be this pretty and this adorable? He wanted to squeal. He wanted to throw a chair. He wanted to tuck you under his coat and never let you do anything dangerous or heartbreaking or normal ever again.

But instead, he cleared his throat, forced his lips into a flat line, and muttered, “Yeah, well… you were still late.”

Pathetic. Even his pretend-annoyed voice sounded whipped.

-

Heeseung found himself standing beside Mr Kim near the open bar, both nursing glasses of champagne. The conversation had drifted from projections and sales to something lighter, more personal but Heeseung’s shoulders were still stiff, his eyes constantly flicking toward the far side of the ballroom to you.

You were talking to people. Merging into a circle of clients and industry professionals as if you belonged there. He watched as you laughed politely at something someone said, nodding attentively, gesturing animatedly when it was your turn to speak. He caught the way someone leaned in closer when you talked, how another man offered you a drink with a too-eager smile.

He clenched his jaw and looked away.

“She’s quite charming,” Mr Kim said, following Heeseung’s gaze with a subtle smirk. “Looks like she’s handling herself just fine.”

Heeseung chuckled stiffly. “Yeah, she tends to make a good impression.”

Mr Kim smiled knowingly, taking another sip of his drink. “My wife was talking about someone like her earlier. Said she saw a girl in a pink dress out on the golf course and thought she was watching a Disney princess chase after a rabbit.”

Heeseung nearly choked on his drink.

“Begged the chef not to cook it,” Mr Kim added, clearly amused. “Turns out it was our family pet. Apparently your fiancée offered money to save it.”

Heeseung groaned under his breath, rubbing a hand over his mouth to hide the grin trying to creep up. “That sounds… exactly like her.”

“She’s adorable,” Mr Kim said warmly, his tone turning unexpectedly sincere. “Rare to see someone so real in a room full of people wearing masks.”

He paused for a beat, then added, “To be honest, I wasn’t sold on the jewellery deal at first. Didn’t see the heart in it. But my wife couldn’t stop talking about that girl—your fiancée. Said any company that attracts someone like her must be doing something right.”

Heeseung’s fingers tightened slightly around his glass. His eyes found yours across the ballroom, animated and smiling as you spoke to a small group. For a second, something soft bloomed in his chest, something he hadn’t meant to feel.

He nodded once. "She's perfect."

-

The conference had gone better than expected, and the energy in the room had shifted to celebration,champagne flutes half-filled, smiles looser, jackets coming off shoulders.

“If I may,” Mr Kim said, standing tall at the front of the ballroom, his voice warm but commanding enough to draw the attention of everyone in the room, “I’d like to invite someone very special to say a few words.”

The chatter died down instantly.

“Him and his fiancée are the reason I’ve decided to move forward with our partnership with Aureum,” Mr Kim continued, smiling. “It wasn’t just the impressive numbers, or the sleek portfolio, or even the pitch, which, I’ll admit, was still excellent. It was the authenticity. The human touch. In a world full of polished presentations and rehearsed lines, it’s rare to meet someone who speaks like they still believe in what they do and that’s why I’m here.”

Then Mr Kim’s eyes flicked toward him, his smile widening just a little. “Mr Lee. Would you join us for a quick toast? Perhaps say something about your lovely fiancée as well?”

Heeseung froze.

You almost choked on the crabcakes you were devouring.

Heeseung’s hand froze mid-air, fingers curled slightly around the stem of his glass. His eyes widened just a fraction, enough for you to see the panic ripple beneath the surface of his carefully maintained expression.

He stood slowly, giving you one last glance like he was walking straight into a firing squad, and made his way to the front of the room.

Mr Kim clapped him on the back. “I’ve always admired honesty, Mr Lee. Let’s hear what love sounds like from someone living it.”

Heeseung stepped up to the mic.

The room quieted. The seconds stretched. You watched his throat bob, watched the slight tremble in his fingers where they gripped the edge of the podium. He was freezing.

And Mr Kim noticed.

The man tilted his head, expression beginning to shift, curiosity folding into doubt.

You stood.

Heeseung’s eyes found yours immediately. And you didn’t think. You just walked.

You made your way up to the stage, your heels clicking softly against the ballroom floor, your heart pounding. You reached him, gently touched his arm, and turned to the mic. Heeseung stepped aside without a word, his jaw still tight.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice light but clear. “My fiancé’s not really used to a big crowd.  He’s the kind of guy who can negotiate million-dollar deals without blinking, but ask him to express a single human emotion in public and he acts like he’s being held hostage.”

A soft laugh rippled through the room.

You turned slightly, your gaze catching Heeseung’s from the corner of your eye. 

“Well...uh...Heeseung and I… we’ve been friends for as long as I can remember,” you began, “Then at the age of 18 left me for Canada. Canada. Can you imagine? Leaving this—” you gestured to yourself with mock offense, “—for Canada?”

The crowd laughed, a ripple of amusement breaking through the room.

You smiled, softer this time, your voice dipping gently. “We drifted after that—stopped talking, stopped being us. And then… he came back. Somehow, we reconnected, and, as fate would have it, he was actually even more insufferably annoying than I remembered.”

Another laugh bubbled from the audience, gentler this time.

“He knew exactly how to push my buttons. He was cocky, arrogant… God, I hated him. Made me do the dumbest things. Made me run the craziest errands. Like, have you ever seen someone counting exactly 50 blueberries in the middle of a supermarket? If you have, that was probably me.”

The room stilled, the laughter fading like it had never been there. The shift was subtle—just the way attention turned sharper, the way even the background music felt like it had lowered itself into a hush.

“But somehow…” you continued, your voice softer now, almost hesitant. You turned your head fully, locking eyes with Heeseung, and the noise of the room blurred around the edges.

“After all those years, after all the silence… I realised something.”

You drew in a breath, one that trembled slightly on the way out. “I blamed him for so much time lost. I blamed him for leaving, for not telling me when, for not trying harder. But I forgot…”

You paused. The truth sat heavy on your tongue, but it needed to be said.

“I forgot to blame myself,” you whispered. “And I never apologized.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around the mic. The words felt raw, too honest, and somehow… exactly why you had hated him back then. Because loving him hurt, and you didn’t know how to carry that without turning it into anger.

Heeseung’s expression shattered—composure gone, his eyes soft and stunned, like you’d touched a place inside him he thought you’d never reach again. There was something breaking open in his gaze. Something unspoken but unmistakable.

“Till now,” you finished, voice barely above a whisper.

And then, with the ache growing full in your chest, your eyes still locked on his, you breathed into the mic.

“I’m sorry.”

The word hung in the air louder than you intended. You wiped the single tear that rolled down your cheek, hoping no one noticed. But then it hit you, you were still on stage. Still holding the mic. Still standing under a literal spotlight in front of dozens of clients and colleagues.

You cleared your throat and plastered on a small, tight smile. “And of course,” you said lightly, forcing the laugh into your voice, “none of this would have happened if we weren’t madly in love and getting married in exactly” ,you glanced at your imaginary watch, “three months and four days. But who’s counting? Apparently, bridezilla herself!”

The crowd laughed. A few people even let out soft awws, and someone near the front clapped.

You gave a stiff little bow, muttered a quick “thank you,” and then got off the stage.

And ran.

You had somehow found your way back to the golf course. You walked faster, heart pounding, heels sinking slightly into the grass. You didn’t want him to find you. Not like this. Not when your walls were crumbling and your heart was screaming things you weren’t ready to say out loud.

But then, a hand gripped your wrist, gentle and firm, stopping you in your tracks. You spun around, startled, only to find Heeseung behind you. 

“What you said back there,” he said, voice low, shaking slightly, “did you mean it?”

“What?” you blinked. “I was just lying to get him off our backs. You know. I was doing my job as your fake fiancée, remember?” You tried to laugh it off, but it came out hollow.

Heeseung didn’t even flinch. “It didn’t seem like a lie.”

You scoffed, looking away. “I was just tryna get the $20,000 off my back, Heeseung.”

“You still love me,” he said, cutting you off. His voice was raw now.

You froze. “No, I don’t—”

“Stop lying to yourself!” Heeseung shouted, the words cutting through the quiet night, raw and ragged, like something inside him had finally broken loose. “Stop lying to me! I can’t take this anymore!”

His voice echoed across the empty golf course, full of something desperate and real, something that made your chest tighten and your breath catch.

“That girl…” he said, voice cracking, “that girl I was in love with… who I still am in love with—she’s in there somewhere. I refuse to believe she didn’t show up at the airport.”

“Heeseung,” you breathed, eyes wide, frozen in place.

“Why?” His voice wavered. “Why didn’t you come? Why didn’t you show up? Why did you just… shut me out after I told you I was leaving—”

“Because!” you snapped, your voice breaking as you finally let it spill. “Because I’m selfish!”

Heeseung paused, taken aback. His brows pulled together.

“I didn’t want to get hurt,” you whispered.

“That’s not the truth,” he said quietly.

“It is,” you insisted, but your voice wavered.

Heeseung shook his head, stepping closer, eyes locked on yours. “You’re lying.”

You ran a trembling hand through your hair, your voice cracking as you looked away. “Fine! You want the truth? You really want to hear it?”

Your chest rose with a sharp breath, the words clawing their way up. “It’s because I thought… I thought if you stayed, I’d ruin you.”

You turned, eyes burning as they met his. “You were 18, Heeseung. 18. You were so smart. You had this whole brilliant, blinding life ahead of you. A future so much bigger than anything I could give you. And me?” Your voice broke. “I was scared I’d be the reason you didn’t shine. That you’d look back one day and realise you settled.”

You swallowed hard, “So I let you go. Because it felt easier to lose you than to stay and watch you wake up one day and realise you made a mistake by choosing me.”

Heeseung’s breath caught, his entire body tensing. “Why?” he asked, voice cracking, his voice growing louder each with each second passing by. “Why would you think I’d ever regret choosing you?”

You turned your face away, “Because I was scared, okay? I was 18. I was still trying to figure out who I was, let alone what I meant to you. And then suddenly I had to make a decision that felt like it would shape the rest of your life.”

You faced him again, voice rising with the ache in your chest. “You were leaving for this big, shiny life. New country, new people, new everything. And I—” You choked. “I didn’t want to be the reason you stayed and resented it.”

He stared at you like he didn’t even know how to speak. “What was good for me?” he echoed quietly, like the words were something sacred. Then louder, sharper—“You! You were! I fucking loved you so much, how could you not see that?”

“Then why didn’t you tell me when you were leaving!” you cried, your voice breaking under the weight of years unsaid. “I would’ve come. I would’ve come, Heeseung. If I’d known—if you had just told me when—”

“Yes I did!” Heeseung’s voice cracked again. “I wrote it. In the letter.”

You froze. “What letter?”

“The letter I gave your mom,” he said, breathless. “The one I—God, I gave your mom a letter. I told her to give it to you.”

You stared at him, stunned.

“What fucking letter?” you whispered.

“I gave your mom a letter,” he said again, quieter this time. “It had everything. The date. The time. Everything. I thought you didn’t come because you chose not to.”

“My mom… never gave me a letter,” you said softly, the words tumbling out like a secret you hadn’t known you were holding.

Heeseung’s eyes widened. “What?”

“If I did know, I would’ve shown up,” you continued, your voice cracking at the edges. “I would’ve told you not to go. I would’ve begged you to stay.” Your throat burned.

“I didn’t mean to leave,” Heeseung said quickly, shaking his head, his voice full of urgency. “God, I didn’t just leave. I waited. I waited until the last possible second. I looked for you until they started calling my name for final boarding.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears, heart pounding. “Now I know you didn’t.”

Heeseung took a shaky step forward. “And now I know you didn’t ignore me. You didn’t walk away.”

You nodded slowly, unable to speak as the tears slipped down your cheeks. Before you could hide, before you could even wipe them away, Heeseung stepped forward and gently tugged you into him, his arms wrapping around you like they were made to.

He pressed your head to his chest, where his heart was beating fast and loud, just like yours. One hand cradled the back of your head while the other brushed against your cheek, wiping your tears.

Then, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I’m sorry for the shit I put you through.”

And this time, you didn’t hold back.

“I should've asked. I'm sorry.” you whispered back.

You tilted your face up to him, eyes still wet but softer now, like the storm inside you had finally started to settle. Heeseung looked down, gaze flicking between your tear-streaked cheeks and the curve of your lips, his thumb still gently resting beneath your chin.

And then you leaned in.

The both of you were hesitant at first. But the second your lips met, everything else slipped away. His hands in your hair, your fingers gripping his tie.

The kiss deepened. His fingers curled around your waist. Then, without warning, he tapped your thigh twice.

You understood immediately, jumping up as he caught you with ease. Your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, and he held you there, effortlessly.

Your lips never parted, not even as he turned and started walking, steady and sure. The golf course faded behind you, quiet except for the occasional rustle of wind.

He pulled back just enough to grin against your cheek. “As much as I like the idea of christening the 9th hole… I think we should take this somewhere less… open.”

-

The door clicked open behind you, but you barely registered it.

In one breath, Heeseung had you in his arms again, his hands firm at your waist, his lips crashing onto yours. There was nothing hesitant about it. Just years of built-up longing released in one desperate, searing kiss.

He guided you backwards gently, lips never parting from yours, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. You stumbled slightly, gasping into his mouth, and he caught you with a quiet laugh, pressing you down with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

“Jongseong’s gonna have a field day with this one,” he whispered, grinning against your skin.

You let out a soft laugh. “Well, Jake too.”

He pulled back just enough to raise an eyebrow at you. “Did you really have to mention Jake when I’m trying to put some moves on you?”

“You mentioned Jongseong first.”

“Yeah, but… Jake’s gross.”

“You’re just jealous.”

He scoffed. “What if I am?”

“Then you’re stupid, because Jake’s like a brother to me.”

“I wanna fire him.”

You snorted. “You can’t fire him without an actual reason, dumbass.”

Heeseung groaned, flopping onto the bed like the world had betrayed him personally. 

“This is so unfair. I fall for a girl and her emotional support dog comes in the same package.”

You rolled your eyes, hovering just above him with a smirk tugging at your lips. “Now are we making out, or are we gonna keep talking about our friends?”

“I definitely prefer the first option,” he muttered.

And then his hand slid to the back of your neck, and he pulled you down into him again, his lips meeting yours, firmer this time, no hesitation. Just heat and honesty and a kiss that felt like it had been years in the making.

-

Morning light spilled in through the hotel curtains, soft and golden, casting gentle shadows across the sheets tangled around your legs. You blinked slowly, the haze of sleep clinging to your lashes, the warmth beside you anchoring you to a reality that felt too perfect to be true.

Heeseung was still asleep, bare-chested, one arm slung lazily over your waist, hair a complete mess, lips parted slightly like he’d fallen asleep mid-sentence. His face, usually so composed and sharp, looked peaceful like this. 

You smiled, fingers brushing lightly over the curve of his shoulder.

Then you sat up. And screamed.

“Heeseung!” 

 He jolted awake like someone had lit a fire under him. “What? What—what’s wrong?”

“We’re late! The breakfast meeting!”

For a second, you both just stared at each other, completely frozen in chaos. The clock read 8:43. The meeting started at 9.

“Shit.”

You scrambled to untangle yourselves from the sheets, clothes flying across the room as you grabbed the first items in reach, your skirt halfway zipped, his shirt buttoned all wrong.

Heeseung stumbled while trying to put on his socks, nearly falling face-first into the carpet. “Why didn’t we set an alarm?!”

“Because someone was too busy whispering sweet shit in my ear and kissing my shoulder for an hour.”

“Well excuse me for being emotionally available for once!”

You both raced around the room like it was on fire, bumping into each other, yanking open suitcases, swearing under your breaths, and then suddenly, just as you were jamming a shoe onto your foot, Heeseung grabbed your wrist and spun you toward him.

“Wait,” he said, breathless. “Just one. Please.”

You blinked. “Hee, we don’t have time.”

“Just one,” he whispered, already leaning in. “One kiss.”

You sighed. Let your hands wrap around his collar as he kissed you, messy, rushed, and full of everything you’d both been too stubborn to say for years.

When you finally pulled away, both of you slightly dazed, Heeseung grinned. “Totally worth it.”

You smacked his arm. “Let’s go, idiot.”

And hand in hand, grinning like fools, you bolted for the elevator.

-

It’d been a few days since everything had changed. Since the night on the golf course. Since the hotel room. And since well, you and Heeseung had…done stuff. Multiple times.

You weren’t official but you were… together. Always orbiting each other like you were tethered by something invisible. No one knew. Not Jake. Not your team. And definitely not HR, which, unfortunately, was Park Jongseong himself, a man with a love for company policies and a suspicious sixth sense for office romance.

And so, here you were. In the office pantry with Jake, who was minding his coffee.

Jake nudged your elbow as he poured milk into his mug. “So, how was the trip with the devil himself?”

You sipped your coffee. “It was fine.”

“Fine? Really?” Jake squinted at you. “Damn, I thought you were coming back with at least three things I could use to file an anonymous complaint.”

You shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “Y’know… actually, he’s not that bad.”

Jake slowly turned to face you. “Not that bad? He made you pretend to be a floor tile.”

You winced. “Okay, yeah, but—look, we were both kind of crazy. I spat in his coffee once, so like… we’re even.”

Jake nearly dropped his mug. “Even?” He stared at you like you’d just told him you’d taken up sword-swallowing as a hobby. “Who are you right now—wait.” His eyes narrowed. “Wait, wait—oh no.”

You froze.

Jake’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god. The two of you hooked up, didn’t you?”

You opened your mouth then closed it. 

Jake looked personally betrayed, “I knew it. I knew you were all weird this week! Who the hell goes to the janitor closet for breaks?”

You froze mid-sip, eyes darting away.

Jake’s jaw dropped. “Heeseung was in there, wasn’t he?”

You blinked.

“Oh my god—you two did it in the janitor cl—EW!” Jake staggered back like the mental image physically harmed him. “I eat lunch near that hallway!”

You held up a hand. “First of all, we did not—”

“You hesitated! That was a hesitation!”

“Jake, if you don’t shut up, I swear I’m going to tell Jongseong you said his HR memo font choice was ugly.”

Jake rolled his eyes, lowering his voice only slightly. “Fine but just so you know, this doesn’t mean I like him. He’s still an asshole.”

You shrugged, sipping your coffee like this wasn’t the most ridiculous conversation you’ve had in weeks. “Good. Because he hates you too.”

Jake blinked. “What the fuck did I do?”

You shrugged, “Exist.”

-

Heeseung sat at his desk, fingers flying across the keyboard as he finalised the proposal for Mr Kim. It was clean, sharp, every slide perfectly aligned to close the deal he’d been working for almost half a year. A deal that, according to the company group chat, had already been deemed one of the most high-profit wins in Aureum’s history.

He should’ve been riding the high of corporate glory.

But none of it really mattered. Not compared to the fact that he’d come back with you.

He tried to stay focused but every few minutes his eyes drifted upward, toward your little cubicle across the hall. You were hunched slightly over your desk, tongue peeking out the corner of your mouth in concentration.

He rested his cheek on his palm, watching you like an idiot. You were so pretty.

And then you looked up.

Your eyes met his, and instead of pretending he hadn’t just been caught openly simping, Heeseung grinned because ever since the two of you were unofficially official, he didn’t even bother to hide it anymore.

You tilted your head, smirking. Then sent him a flying kiss.

Heeseung squealed. Audibly. And sent one right back with two hands like a dramatic fool.

And that was when the office door swung open.

“What the fuck are you doing?” came Park Jongseong’s voice, disgusted and traumatised all at once.

Right. Glass walls. Stupid, transparent, company-branded glass walls.

Heeseung sat up straight, clearing his throat. “I was… practicing.”

Jongseong blinked. “Practicing what, exactly?”

“…Nevermind."

Jongseong sighed and muttered "You're so weird,” before walking out.

Then the door opened again.

“Wait...I smell something,” Jongseong declared.

Heeseung didn’t even look up. “What?”

“A HR violation,” Jongseong said with a sniff, eyes narrowing.

As much as Heeseung loved Jongseong, god, the man could be such a self-righteous pain when it came to company policies.

“I don’t smell anything,” Heeseung said, typing without looking.

“No, no. I smell it. There’s a strong odor of office romance in the air and it reeks in here.”

“You must be sniffing yourself.”

“Oh please. This company only hires uglies.”

“You’re not the catch you think you are, Jongseong.”

“Yes I am,” he said with absolute confidence, “and I will find out who is reeking of romance. It’s horrendous.” Then, dramatically, he turned to Heeseung. “Is it you?”

Heeseung gulped, eyes twitching. “Couldn’t be me.”

Jongseong stared harder. “You’re right. You reek too much of a man who hasn’t gotten laid in three years because he’s been secretly in love with his subordinate.”

Heeseung blinked. Deeply offended, but smart enough not to give in. “Yeah sure. Whatever you say.”

Then, without warning, Jongseong spun and pointed directly at Jake, who had just walked in with his smoothie.

“It’s him!” Jongseong gasped. “He has the cheekbones for it. Look at him—he looks gorgeous. No way this man isn’t pulling chicks.”

“Cheekbones?” Heeseung scoffed. “They’re more like rotten apples. Don’t you think?”

“No. This man looks like he was carved by God himself.”

“Or the devil, actually.”

“No. Look at him,” Jongseong insisted, grabbing Heeseung’s shoulders and spinning him toward Jake. “He looks like a piece of Renaissance art with a gym membership.”

“He looks like three-day-old underwear.”

“You’re just jealous… because… oh my god.” Jongseong’s eyes widened, turning to face Heeseung fully. “He’s dating her, isn’t he?”

“What?” Heeseung looked at Jongseong like he’d just suggested he was secretly a lizard.

“That’s why you’re extra moody today,” Jongseong gasped. “Because Jake and her are together. And that leaves you all alone.”

Heeseung’s stomach flipped violently. He hated the image of you and Jake together. He hated the way Jongseong even said it like it made sense.

“They’re not together,” he snapped.

“Well, if they are, we could always just fire Jake,” Jongseong offered casually, sipping his coffee.

“We are not—” Heeseung paused. “Hold on. That’s a good idea.”

“Well, then she’d have to go too. Because, y’know, also dating Jake.”

“Oh. Right.” Heeseung grimaced. 

Jongseong raised a brow. “Not like you care though? You fucking hate her.”

“Actually, people change,” Heeseung muttered. “She apologized. She’s… not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Jongseong repeated slowly, squinting.

He looked at you through the glass. Then at Heeseung. Then at you again. Then back at Heeseung.

His mouth dropped open.

“It’s you,” Jongseong gasped, pointing between the two of you like he’d just cracked a government conspiracy. “It's you two!”

Before another word could escape his mouth, Heeseung shot up from his chair and launched himself at him.

Jongseong barely had time to react before Heeseung had tackled him into a makeshift headlock, one hand slapped over his mouth as the two of them stumbled into the corner of the office.

“Let go of me!” Jongseong struggled, flailing under Heeseung’s grip. “I have rights!”

“Not until you promise you won’t say a word!” Heeseung hissed, tugging on Jongseong’s shoulders and trying to wrestle him into silence while Jongseong kicked wildly at the air.

Outside the office, you and Jake stood with your coffees, watching everything unfold behind the glass.

Jake blinked. “What the hell do you think is happening in there?”

You shrugged, casually sipping from your mug. “No clue. Glass walls don’t help if they built the place like a soundproof aquarium.”

Back inside, Jongseong finally managed to pull Heeseung’s hand from his mouth long enough to shout, “I am a man of the people! I have to report this monstrosity!”

“Calm the fuck down,” Heeseung gritted through his teeth, still trying to keep him pinned. “You’re a HR manager, not Captain America.”

Jongseong wheezed, flailing. “The people must know!”

“The people can suck it!” Heeseung growled, still halfway wrestling Jongseong into the carpet.

“Jongseong, I swear to God, if you’re the next obstacle to us getting back together, I’m never forgiving you.”

“I—I—” Jongseong wheezed, still pinned beneath Heeseung’s arm. “When the hell did you get—so—strong?”

Heeseung didn’t even flinch. “Pilates, bitch.”

Outside, you took another slow sip of your coffee, eyebrows raised. “Five bucks says Heeseung bribes him with cake to shut up.”

Jake nodded. “Ten if it’s that strawberry shortcake from the café downstairs.”

“Deal.”

Jongseong finally shoved him off, crawling backward until he could breathe. “Okay, fine!” he huffed, adjusting his rumpled blazer. “You seem pretty serious about her.”

Heeseung straightened, flicked his collar, and gave the smuggest little smirk. “I am.”

There was a pause.

Then, softer this time, “So please?” Heeseung added, meeting Jongseong’s eyes. “Could you just… keep it down?”

Jongseong looked at him. Then at you through the glass. Then back at Heeseung.

He sighed deeply, like he was about to betray his entire code of ethics. “Fine.”

Heeseung grinned. “Thank you.”

“But the second you start getting gross in meetings, I’m reporting both of you to HR which is me.”

“Deal,” Heeseung said, already pulling out his wallet. “Strawberry shortcake?”

Jongseong paused. “Extra whipped cream.”

Heeseung nodded. “Done.”

-

You knew it was a risk.

The moment Heeseung had grabbed your wrist in the hallway and tugged you into the janitor’s closet with that familiar look in his eyes, the one that always made your knees weak and better judgment nonexistent, you knew.

And yet here you were.

Pressed against the wall between a mop and a bucket, lips tangled with yours. His hands roamed your waist with urgency, and your fingers were tugging at his tie.

“This is your fault,” you whispered against his mouth.

“You kissed me first,” he murmured back, breathless, grinning.

“Because you looked hot during the finance meeting!”

“You said profit margin like it was a dirty word!”

You were about to argue when—

The door opened.

“Oh my GOD,” Jake’s voice rang out, horrified.

“What the hell—” Jongseong's words trailed off as he stepped in behind Jake, immediately shielding his eyes with a clipboard. “I knew it. I knew it! I’m reporting the two of you to HR.”

You scrambled to fix your blouse, cheeks burning. “Jake, shut the door!”

“You’ve scarred me. I need therapy.”

“Technically,” Heeseung said, calm as ever, “we’re on our ten-minute break.”

“That’s it,” Jongseong snapped. “This is the third time this week I’ve caught you two doing something borderline illegal in the fucking mop closet. I’m reporting you. I’ve been way too tolerant.”

“How about a hundred bucks and we pretend this never happened?” Heeseung offered smoothly.

Jongseong paused. Then grinned. “Damn. Didn’t know I could go blind for ten minutes, but apparently, I can. Nice doing business with you.”

Jake blinked. “Wait, how about me? I can still report this to HR too!”

“You’re lucky I don’t fire your ugly ass on the spot.”

Jake scoffed. “I told you two months ago—I don’t want your ratty-ass girlfriend. You can stop being weird about it.”

“Ratty?” you gasped, hand to your chest like you’d just been stabbed.

Jake rolled his eyes. “You know I’m exaggerating. You’re the prettiest princess in the entire damn kingdom.”

You giggled. “Hee, apologise to him.”

“Absolutely not. He just called you pretty right in front of me.”

“Am I not pretty?” you asked, feigning offence.

Heeseung groaned. “You’re very beautiful. Which is exactly why we’re in this situation in the first place!”

“Well, then, could you please apologise to Jake?”

Heeseung sighed, dramatically pained. “Fine. I’m sorry, and I don’t hate you.”

Jake blinked. “…Thanks?”

“Now,” Heeseung said, already tugging the door shut again, “can we have five more minutes?”

“NO!” they both shouted in unison.

The door slammed shut anyway.

Jake stared at it, traumatised. “I’m never opening a janitor’s closet again.”

Jongseong nodded solemnly. “I’ve seen things. I need bleach.”

“Join the club.”

[hadersversion]

I. i can fix him (no really i can)

“he had a halo of the highest grade, he just hadn’t met me yet.”

pairing: rafe cameron x innocent pogue! reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ minors dni!! language, soft rafe cameron because my boy just needs some love, slow burn!!

mood board!

“hey,” i said, nudging him with my foot. “hey, rafe, i think it’s time for you to get up.”

i look down at the boy who was passed out on the ground of the beach. his shaved head covered in sand as beer bottles surrounded him. his eyes fluttered open at me, staring at me. “w-where the hell am i?” he said, slowly sitting up.

“the beach, it’s 6:30 in the morning.” i sigh, looking at my watch. “i assume you were at a party here last night and got ditched on the beach by your friends.”

i watched as he looked around the empty beach and groaned, covering his face with his hands and yawning. “fuck.” he mumbled to himself. he ran his hands down once before looking back at me. “thanks, for uh-….”

i laugh to myself. “making sure you were alive? don’t mention it.”

he nods with a smirk. “yeah, that.” we stay there in silence. “i’m sorry, w-what’s your name again? i recognize you from your friends i just…”

“y/n y/l/n.” i nod at him.

“y/n y/l/n.” he repeats back at me, not once breaking eye contact with me.

i feel my face heat up, not knowing what i’m feeling in this exact moment. this is rafe fucking cameron, kook prince and sworn enemy to my friends. he’s not a good person. i know who he is and i should hate him, but when his eyes pierce through me like that…like he knows all my secrets….that’s when i start to question reality. “well, i should get going.” i say, pointing awkwardly to the beach.

“it’s 6:30 in the morning, where could you possibly be going?” he asks, pushing his knees up and resting his arms on them.

i sigh and look around, feeling like i’m in the hot seat. “uh…it’s uh…it’s dumb, you wouldn’t wanna know.” i try to dismiss him.

“no, i wanna know, tell me.” he says, sternly.

i bite my lip and sigh. “towatchthedolphins.” i say in a fast whisper.

“what was that?” he asks with a cocky smile, making me blush. “i couldn’t hear ya, could ya speak up?”

“i’m watching the dolphins!” i say more clearer, looking down at him. “i’ve been waking up early and watching the dolphins. this is like their prime time, so i like to sit and watch them while i have my breakfast.” i admit to him.

i wait there, expecting him to laugh or do something heinous that rafe cameron would do to a pogue. but he doesn’t. he just nods. “cool, i didn’t know that was like a thing.”

did i take one of kie’s edibles this morning by accident? did i actually never wake up to my alarm and i’m still tucked away in bed? or did rafe cameron just have a super normal reaction to something i said to him?

“yeah, right now is the best season for it.” i inform him with a shy smile on my face.

he continues to stare at me with those fucking perfect blue eyes. he rakes over my body once and stands up. did he just check me out? “well, y/n, enjoy those dolphins. i should probably get home before my dad has a bitch fit. thanks again.” he waves goodbye to me before staggering away towards the exit of the beach. my body lets out a breathe that i didn’t even know i was holding and i start to feel tingly inside.

what the fuck just happened?

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

after that, i seem to find rafe cameron everywhere. as i ride my bike to work, go to the beach, hang out with the pogues. he’s clouded up my brain and i have no idea what to do. it’s not like i can tell anyone, i’d be marked with a scarlet T for traitor. but my thoughts can’t stop themself from being infiltrated by him.

“yo, y/n, everything cool?” jj asks me, sipping from his beer.

he snaps me from my rafe cameron brain rot, taking me by surprise. “yeah, everything’s alright. sorry, just a little tired.”

a whole group of us hang out by the beach at the boneyard, the usual pogues, some kooks who we invited in to fuck with, and the vacationers. everything was going alright, until i saw him.

“ain’t no fuckin way.” i hear jj spit.

rafe and his friends stroll up to the party, with a few girls scattered around them. i feel my face goes hot as my friends spit their remarks about him.

“what makes this douchebag think it’s okay to just show up here?” i hear kiara say.

“i don’t know but i don’t like it.” john b adds in.

my eyes can’t seem to leave his figure. he looks just as handsome as i remember from the beach. i know i am staring but i just cannot seem to care. but my brain short wires when he looks up, meeting my gaze with a cocky smirk. shit.

i feel my face get darker as i quickly avert my gaze down to my feet. "uh, i'm gonna get a beer. anyone want one?" but before my friends can even answer my question, i quickly make my way over to the coolers. once i know i am out of their sight, i take a well needed deep breathe and try to ground myself. my brain feels fuzzy with thoughts of rafe cameron but i have to push them down.

i bend over to grab a beer from the cooler when i hear a familiar voice behind me. "mind if i grab one?" i quickly turn my head to see rafe, staring into his blue eyes like they were the goddamn eighth wonder of the world.

he's so close yet so far away, i can smell the expensive cologne he has on. my brain gets off of autopilot and screams at me to put space between us, which i attempt to do. but before i can think, i'm tripping over my own feet, almost falling back. but i feel rafe's large hand quickly land on my lower back, saving me from the tumble.

"woah, there, did you already have that much to drink?" he jokes.

i stare at him, my face probably matching the color of a budweiser can. "i...uh...i..um..." i feel myself babbling on, unable to form a single thought as he has his hands on my body. "s-sorry about that. but i...i've only had one beer, i'm just a total klutz sometimes i swear."

he keeps his hand on my back, i can feel him slightly rubbing it, sending goosebumps all over my body. he keeps looking into my eyes, which seems to be his favorite hobby at this point. "well, i'm glad i caught ya." we stand there in silence for what feels like an eternity, until i remember where i am. who i am here with.

my friends.

i frantically look around, making sure they aren't looking at me dying under rafe’s touch. i pull away from him quickly.

"don't worry they aren't looking." he reassures, grabbing my beer and opening it for me. "i assume it's your friends you are looking for." he hands me back the cold beverage, our fingers brushing against each other.

i quickly snap my hand back and look up at him, he has a small smile on his face as he looks down at me. "sorry, but, i mean...you understand, right? my friends don't like you, you don't like them. if they see me talking over here with you...it'll be a whole thing."

"i didn't peg you as someone who cares about what other people thought about them. i don't know, i mean you did admit to me very easily your love for dolphin watching." he smirks as he grabs a can of beer and opens it. "just saying."

i want to hide away forever. "p-please don't mention that to anyone else. please." i beg with an awkward smile.

"i won't, i won't. don't get so freaked out." he takes a long sip of beer. "it's kinda cute." he says so nonchalantly.

did he just call me cute?

this is a prank, this is merely a big joke to him. it has to be.

i can tell i took too long to process what he just said because he nudges me lightly with his elbow. "did i lose you there?"

i shake my head and laugh. "sorry, i'm all good." we stand there, sipping our beers in silence. "why are you here?" i ask with no hesitation, which earns me a wide-eye reaction from rafe. "that was rude but...like for real, why? you never come to pogue parties. i thought we were too beneath you to ever join us."

"i mean, you have a point." he looks down at me with a smirk, which makes me flip him off. he chuckles at me and sips his beer. "honesty?"

"please." i say.

he sighs and looks around. "i'm here to see you."

i choke on the sip of beer i'm taking, too shocked at what he just told me. i watch as he steps forward in concern and tries to put his hand on my back, but i move away quickly. i cough agressively before turning to him. "i-i'm sorry, what?" i almost laugh in his face.

"i'm pretty sure you heard me, y/n. i'm here for you." he admits.

i stare at him, waiting for him to laugh, admit that it was a joke, or even a ploy to mess with the pogues like some kind of goddamn trojan horse. "you're serious?"

"i think you would know if i'm lying." he shrugs.

i stand there, unable to wrap my head around what he just said to me. "you're so full of shit." i blurt out.

he just laughs. "am i now?"

"you're here to see me? the girl whose name you couldn't even remember a few days ago?" i cock my eyebrow at him.

"is it so horrible to believe?" he questions. i look at him, trying to tell if this is real or fake. he waves his hand in front of my face. "i lost you there again."

"i'm sorry, it's just...i'm me...and you're you. we exist on totally different planets...universes." i tell him.

"yet here we are, right next to each other on planet earth." he says.

he got me there.

"y/n!?" i hear kiara yell.

rafe turns his head to the voice calling my name and then back to me. "that's your cue to leave, i think."

i cannot turn away from him, too dumbfounded about the past 5-minute conversation we just had. "you're not slick." i say, starting to walk away backwards so i'm facing him.

"i didn't think i was being slick!" he says, with his hands up in his defence.

"i see through you and your lies, rafe cameron! i really do!" i yell at him as i get further away.

"yeah, i'd like to see you try, y/n y/l/n!" he shouts back, smiling at me.

i crack a smile back to him and flip him off before walking into the crowd, looking for kiara.

she comes up and puts her shoulder around me. "you all good? was he bothering you?" she asks, looking back to where rafe and i were.

i follow her gaze and see rafe still standing there with that same look on his face. "no, he wasn't. i'm all good, i swear." i say honestly. "just having a small talk."

"with the kook prince? no one ever just has a 'small talk' with rafe cameron, y/n." she says, squeezing me tighter.

"well i guess i'm the first person to ever do so." i shrug and continue to walk back towards the boys, trying to hide the stupid smile rafe cameron put on my face.

[gothghostiie]

@pricegotmedickmatized is having a good day so obviously I have to so something about it

pt. 2 to this

cw: age gap(20s/40s), some size difference, risky place, fingering while driving (dont do this kids), fisting, praise, a little degrading, begging, no lube used, virgin!reader, afab!fem!reader

it's been a few weeks since your grandparents had called him over for help. nothing needed fixing, they didn't need any help. he did go knocking on their door every few days, but they always said they needed nothing. if it wasn't for them inviting him in for cake or whatever goods your grandma made, he would've thought they know what he did to poor, sweet you in their kitchen. but they don't, lucky for him. he doesn't know if he'd be quite as welcome there if they did, probably not. he'd understand it, honestly.

it's another rainy summer day when his phone rings. he still has a landline, prefers it to calling over his phone, its a good thing to have if your phones lost or dead. not that he doesnt have a spare (an old timey flip phone, the one's seniors usually have), but he's know it like that since he was just a boy, so why change it now? he thanks god he has it when it rings and he hears your grandpa's voice through it. "Mr. Price," his tone is warm and kind, as always, "are you busy?" John shakes his head with a soft 'mh-mh', before he can answer properly the old man speaks again. "could you come over?"

Price immediately throws on his jacket, slipping into his boots. barely bothers to pull up the hood over his head to shield him from the rain on the short walk. he's almost beaming at the thought of being able to help again - it's an old instinct he never quite lost and never will lose. it's just how he is, an old dog, eager to help where he can. and it truly pays off, because when your grandfather opens the door and leads him into the living room, you're there.

his eyes glue to you, darting over your outfit. a short little sundress, even shorter than the last one, a thin but baggy jacket and a pair of cute mary jane's that match your outfit together with some frilly, white socks. his cock throbs when you look up at him with big, surprised eyes, looking a bit startled to see him. "Sweetheart. good to see you again." he steps closer with a kind smile, acting like nothing is amiss.

"it's.. nice to see you too.." you say quietly, acting like your cunt isnt clenching around nothing at the mere memory of how his big fingers stretched it out. you force a smile, shifting uncomfortably as you cuss yourself out for needing to change your panties once youre home. your whole clothes, considering how its raining, but at least that gives you an excuse to have a long, hot bath and-

"John," your grandmothers sweet voice breaks the silence, ripping you out of your thoughts, "could you drive her home? its just a 20 minute drive and she's here with her bike." she gives you a lovingly scolding look, making your cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment, even more when you see John's expression.

"of course." he winks at you. "let me go get my truck. sit tight, love." you can't even protest as he walks out of the door without another word, your grandma giving you a nudge as you open your mouth to speak.

"don't be like that, I couldn't stand the thought of you in the rain sweetie. and john doesn't mind." you give her a little look, she digs in her purse. "just give him this as a thank you for driving you." she says, handing you a 10 bill, it just makes you sigh. she's stubborn as a mule and you don't want to argue with her. so you pocket it with a grumble, then hug them both goodbye before leaving the house to see an old, a bit raggedy looking, high truck standing in front of the small house your grandparents call their own. you almost didn't wanna go in, it looks like one of these things a pervert in a movie would drive - but John hops out and opens the passenger door for you.

"C'mon in love, don't be shy. it's all nice 'n cozy up in there." he smiles warmly, but it sounds like he's coaxing an animal to get in its crate - but you do. you walk over, shielding your face from the rain with your hand. you put one foot up on the small step - john quickly steps behind you, big hands gripping your waist tightly and giving you a boost. he lifts you with ease, fingers digging into the soft fabric of your dress and squishing the fat underneath it gently. put one hand on your ass until you pull yourself in and sit down; before you can reach for the seat belt he fastens it for you. closes the door and quickly hops into the drivers side again, starting the truck up without buckling up. pulls off the curb and onto the street, driving with a content hum. "where to?" he asks, glancing over at you, your slightly damp hair clinging to your face in a few places, your dress riding up your thigh a good bit - he can't help but wonder if your sweet ass is sitting bare on the leather bench, save for your panties.

you tell him the street and house number of the small apartment building you live in, he hums and drives into that direction. he doesn't even try to hide the glances that roam over your body every chance he gets, at every stop sign and every red light. the sound of the rain coming down onto the car and the quiet music on the radio filling the cab of the car, only broken up by him speaking to you. "how've you been, hm?" he asks softly, one hand reaching over to pat your knee - and find purchase on your lower thigh. "you been behaving yourself?" he chuckles at his own joke, you nod a bit.

"y-yea. I've been good." you stutter, too flustered for your own good. this isn't the first man you've ever talked to by any means but something about him gets you so unbelievably nervous.

"you've been good, have you? what a good girl." he chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners when he does, squeezing your thigh a bit tighter. you gulp, he grins wider. "been doin' well too. missing you an awful lot, though. should've asked you for your phone number last time." he sighs softly, his thumb rubbing the bare, soft skin of your thing while it keeps inching higher and higher, as if you won't notice.

'you missed me?" your voice is soft, confused, hesitant to ask him something like that. he smirks and nods, stopping at a red light.

"that I did. couldnt get your pretty little face out of my head." his hand briefly leaves your thigh to grab you cheeks, squishing them while giving your head a little shake. he can feel your cheeks heat up and it makes him laugh even more. "you're so fucking cute. when I grab your little cunt you just moan like a whore and buck your hips to fuck it, but when i tell you i missed you, you blush like a little school girl. its hilarious." he lets go of your cheeks and pats one of them a bit more rough than necessary before he keeps ok driving; his hand finding purchase on your thigh once again; this time higher up, able to reach under your dress if he wanted to. "it's adorable, really. but yea, I missed you."

his tone is casual again, like he didn't just.. say that. like he didn't just remind you of how desperate you were, of how you almost let him fist you in your grandparents kitchen while they were a room over (you would've let him, if he hadn't stopped), of how good his fingers stretching you felt, of the words he murmured into your ear; you could feel yourself getting wet, your cunt getting hot from arousal - he laughs. your eyes dart over at him, startled by the sound.

"jesus christ." he keeps laughing, you furrow your brows. "I can feel your little snatch getting hot from here." he empathises the last word with a squeeze where his hand is resting on your thigh, making your jaw drop a bit. you bring your hands up to your face in embarrassment, hiding, he laughs again. "there there, gorgeous." he lifts his arm to wrap it around your shoulders instead, pulling you into his side as good as he can with your seatbelt still on. his hand cradles your head against him gently, you can feel the rumble of his chuckling in his chest. "it's alright, you dont need to be embarrassed." he coos softly, glancing down. "c'mon, let me make you feel better, hm?"

he shifts his hand down to unbuckle your seatbelt, then gently guides you into position: pulling you to sit with your back against his side, one leg up on the seat, the other down to inevitably spread your legs for him. your short dress rides up to expose your wet panties just a bit and it makes him groan when he sees it over your shoulder. "loose those." he commands gently, you follow his order. how could you not? you toss them aside on the seat, your cunt now exposed to the warm air in the truck, thick with tension now. he looks down again, another groan leaving his lips. "that's the little honeypot I got to dip my fingers in?" he croons, the words make it twitch. his hand snakes around your waist this time, quickly finding its way between your legs.

he cups your pussy, gently but firmly, giving it a teasing little squeeze. his palm is immediately slightly damp and sticky, but he doesn't care - rather the opposite. carefully pushes his fingers between your lips, rubbing along your slit slowly, as if he was looking for something - probably looking to drive you crazy. "there you go.." he whispers softly, quickly leaning down to press a kiss onto your head. "you gonna let me in again, sweetheart?"

you nod quickly, you couldn't refuse if you wanted to, you need to feel him again, to feel his calloused fingers on your sensitive walls, feeling the painful stretch of his digits - and you do. he doesn't waste any time, pushing two fingers into your wet hole, scissoring them inside you. it makes you jump and tense up slightly, face scrunching up. his fingers keep moving, stretching you out within just moments of being inside you while he speaks. "shh.. relax for me, yea? take a deep breath, it'll feel even better if you calm down.." his soft words do little to soothe you, considering he's already pushing a third finger into your poor cunt, but you want to be good for him; so you try and do as he tells you. you take deep, shaky breaths, mostly coming out as breathy whines and moans. one of your hands grabs the top of the seat, the other behind you to grab onto his thigh tightly, fingers digging into the worm fabric of his jeans.

"that's a good girl.." he smiles, kissing your head again. "you're doing such a good job listening to me.. and taking my fingers so well, too, aren't you? almost better than last time." he chuckles softly, his fingers thrusting into you faster. "missed me too, didn't you? I can feel how much you missed me." his breathing gets heavier too, unable to keep himself from chuckling again. his thumb presses down on your clit firm but not painful, starting to rub it slowly. the touch almost startles you, your sensitive nub gently squished, making your hips buck.

"Mr. Price-" You pant out, he pushes his fingers deeper as he laughs.

"so polite, aren't you? you truly are a good girl at your core." His thumb rubs your clit faster. "so well behaved, so well mannered, so prim and proper.. except for that sluttly little dress you're wearing. a bit short, isn't it?" he hums, a fourth finger squeezing in again. you were already this far last time and you can't help but wish - pray that he won't stop this time. that he won't pull his fingers out, that he won't leave you hanging again that he won't-

the car stops. so do his fingers. you feel tears well up in your eyes.

"no, nononono-" you mutter, hand scrambling to grab his wrist to stop him from pulling out. "please-" you hiccup. "you can't- not again-"

he stares down at you, eyes wide with shock, but he smiles. he smiles as he watches fat tears spill down your cheeks, his skin turning white from being gripped so hard by your hands; not even able to wrap around his wrist. he watches for a moment, your choked up breathing making him chub up. "oh sweetheart.." he murmurs softly, pulling you closer with his fingers still in your pussy, the movement making you gasp loudly. "I did leave you hanging last time, didn't I?" you nod, head hanging down as you hold your grip, trembling. "I'm sorry baby. I had to." he says, but you don't listen. you just sob again, shaking your head. "you want me to go on, hm? won't leave my car if I don't, will you?" you shake your head again. he smirks.

you cry in protest as he pulls his fingers out of you, despite your iron grip he does it with ease. you sob loudly, desperately, heartbreaking. he coos at you softly, wrapping you in a tight hug against his side. "shh.. don't go crying now, I only want tears of pleasure from you, alright?" he whispers into your ear, placing a kiss underneath. "you'll be alright. Just be good and listen to me. I know you can." you sob again, but nod, trusting him this time. he smiles.

"good girl." his hand comes up to ruffle your hair, then gently pushes you away. you look back at him with you big, sad eyes, wet eyelashes blinking up at him. "don't loom at me like that. turn around." you quickly do, sitting to face him. he smiles. "lean back against the door and pull one leg on the seat, just like you leaned against me." you sniff and nod, quickly getting into position while he turns to you too. he smiles at you gently. "good, youre so good at listening to me." he murmurs, hand going between your thighs again, lifting your dress to expose your dripping, gaping pussy.

"aw, fuck.." he groans, having to take a deep breath. "look at that sloppy little cunt.. all open and waiting for me, isnt it? she gonna take whatever i giver her, won't she?" you nod quickly, he laughs softly, his thumb grazing your clit again. "how about I finally make due on my promise, hm? give her what she wants?" your eyes widen, but you nod again. John smirks, giving a nod back as his fingers slowly slide back into you - three fingers first to open you back up again, before the fourth also squeezes in. "take a deep breath 'n relax for me. tell me if it hurts too bad." he waits for you to nod again before tucking his thumb against his palm, his hand in a cone shape as he slowly starts pushing it in. your eyes widen, you hold your breath as he slowly wiggles it in; thrusting back and forth a bit to spread your slick around, until he's in up to his knuckles. he pauses again.

"alright, love. this' probably gonna hurt a bit, so hold onto something." he watches one hand dig into the seat as he plants his free hand above just above your mound so his thumb can reach your clit, rubbing it softly to help you relax - and to let the other hand grip onto his forearm. he looks up at you briefly, before slowly, carefully pushing his knuckles against your stretched hole. you whine loudly, toes curling as you tremble, an intense mix of pleasure and pain cursing through your lower belly as he works them in slowly. "almost, almost.. keep breathing.." he mutters, brows furrowed in concentration - his knuckles pop in with a wet squelch, making you cry out loudly.

John groans as he watches his hand burried inside snugly, all the way up to his wrist. "fuck.." he breathes hard, cock pressing painfully against his zipper. "such a good little pussy.." he whispers, slowly twisting his wrist. your eyes roll back and you moan loudly, but he quickly pulls one knee up on the seat and leans forward, swallowing the noise with a deep, heated kiss. his tongue pushes into your mouth as his fist starts thrusting into you, slowly at first, but your hips push back against it. he glances down, chuckling and shaking his head. "greedy fucking thing, isn't she?" he jokes softly, thrusting up into you harder. your cries get swallowed by another kiss, pussy gushing aroudn his wrist and definitely staining his seat; but he couldn't care less. all he wanted now was to make you cum all over his fist, make you shake and cry with pleasure, his thumb rubbing your clit faster, pressing down harder.

it doesn't take long before you start twitching, tensing up around him. "you gonna cum for me?" he whispers against your lips, leaning up to kiss your tears away. you try to speak between moans and sobs, but all that comes out is a hiccup. he smiles softly. "its alright, come for me. show me how much she likes me."

and you do. you come undone with a loud cry, your body shaking as he keeps fisting you through your high, legs kicking slight as the overstimulation creeps in. "there you go, that's a good girl.." he slowly his movements, kissing your forehead, taking deep breaths with you. "deep breath now." he murmurs - then pulls out with a wet pop, making you wince. he chuckles, looking at his slicked up fist, the cab of the car only lit by nearby street lights. he marvels at the sight for a moment before your catch his eye again, breathing heavy and all exhausted - and your gaping hole. his breath hitches at the sight, cock twitching painfully. "fucking look at that.." he shakes his head, snapping out of it. this isn't the time. he pulls your dress down, helping you sit upright.

"come on now. it's late, you need to sleep. I'll carry you to the door."

[leaderwonim]

THE WORLD NEVER ENDED | JACK HUGHES

pairing. jack hughes x fem!reader (ft. platonic quinn & luke hughes x fem!reader + male!oc x fem!reader)

genre. childhood best friends to lovers, ANGST, fluff, hurt to comfort, reader & jack are both 18-19 in this!

synopsis: Y/N and Jack Hughes have been inseparable since childhood, spending every summer at his family’s lake house—until his hockey career takes off and leaves her behind. As Jack’s life moves forward and Y/N tries to do the same, the distance between them grows in ways neither of them expected. But when their paths cross again at a breaking point, they’re forced to confront everything they never said and the feelings that never really went away.

The lake house never changes. It still smells like pine and sunscreen, the same old dock creaking under your feet, the same late summer breeze curling through the trees. But this time, you’re the only one here.

You let the beer bottle dangle from your fingers, the glass sweating against your palm as you stare at the still water. It’s late. Too late to be out here alone, and your mom would probably kill you if she found out you were underage drinking, but you’ve been doing this since you were kids—sneaking down to the dock past midnight, toes dipping into the water, whispering about everything and nothing at all.

Except this time, Jack isn’t here. Not really. Not anymore.

The last time you saw him was months ago, after another whirlwind season, after Team USA, after everything. He’d come back, same easy smile, same stupidly messy hair, same Jack. And yet, he wasn’t.

He moved too fast, talked too much about things you weren’t a part of, laughed at jokes from teammates you didn’t know. He had an entire life outside of this town, this lake, this dock. A life that didn’t include you.

It wasn’t his fault though, you couldn’t blame Jack for being excited about this whole new chapter in his life, not when he’s worked his ass off so he could secure a spot in the NHL in the future.

You took a shaky breath, watching as the wind blew the waters back and forth, your thought raced with Jack, Jack, Jack. It wasn’t anything new; you had been in love with him since you had learned what the word love even was, when Ellen and your mom teased you two endlessly after your eighth birthday, declaring that you’d two get married when you were older.

And then he left, at age fourteen to go train at some hockey camp over the summer and you started seeing him less and less. Then he left again for USA Hockey, and all that was left of him was the little times he’d pop up on your screen for a FaceTime, or a quick selfie.

You never told him that it felt like the world had ended whenever he left.

❥

The first time you met Jack Hughes, he was seven years old, standing knee-deep in the lake, grinning like he had owned the world.

“You scared to jump in?” he teases, squinting up at you from where he’s splashing around.

You cross your arms, standing barefoot on the dock, the sun burning hot against your skin. “I just don’t wanna get my hair wet.”

Jack laughs like you just said the funniest thing in the world, and before you can react, he launches a handful of water in your direction. It splashes against your legs, cool and shocking, and you gasp.

“You jerk!” you shriek, but Jack’s already laughing, already diving into the water, swimming just far enough out of reach that you can’t get him back.

You don’t know it then, but that’s how it starts.

The Hughes family’s lake house becomes your second home. Your parents are close friends with Ellen and Jim, and summers are spent tangled in sunburns, mosquito bites, and the smell of bonfires. Jack, being just a few months older, quickly becomes your shadow—or maybe you become his.

You race bikes down dirt paths, climb trees until your hands are covered in splinters, and stay up late whispering under blanket forts in the Hughes’ living room, trying not to wake Luke and Quinn.

“You think we’ll still be best friends when we’re older?” you ask one night, voice sleepy, cheek smushed against your arm.

Jack frowns at you, like you just said something ridiculous. “Duh. Who else am I supposed to hang out with? My brothers?”

You grin brightly, shoving him. “You promise?”

He holds out his pinky. “Promise.”

And that’s that.

As you both get older, things don’t really change. Not at first.

Winters are spent at the Hughes’ house in Michigan, watching Jack skate for hours at the rink, your fingers numb from gripping a hot chocolate too tight. Summers are still for the lake house, where the days blur together in a haze of sun, water, and laughter.

Jack is your best friend. The one who sneaks you extra s’mores when the adults say no. The one who ties your skates when your fingers are too cold. The one who always picks you first for street hockey, even when Luke complains about it. The one who knows everything about you.

And you know everything about him, too.

That he gets grumpy when he’s hungry. That he has to listen to music before every game, or else he feels off. That he’s already dreaming about the NHL, about Team USA, about everything that seems so far away but somehow already feels like it’s coming too fast.

You don’t realize when things do start changing.

Maybe it’s when Jack turns fourteen and starts spending more time away at tournaments. Maybe it’s when you turn fourteen and realize your heart speeds up whenever he looks at you a certain way.

Maybe it’s the summer you turn fifteen and see him talking to a girl from town, and something ugly coils in your stomach. You don’t say anything, though. You can’t.

Jack is your best friend. That’s all. Even if you wish it wasn’t.

When Jack is sixteen, everything does change.

It’s the Fourth of July. The lake house is packed, fireworks already popping in the distance. You and Jack sneak away from the party like you always do, climbing onto the dock and lying side by side, watching the sky.

“You excited for the USA team?” you ask, your voice light, like the thought of him leaving doesn’t make your chest ache.

Jack turns his head to look at you. “Yeah,” he says. “Kinda nervous, though.”

You smile a little, the same smile that had reassured Jack every time he saw it. “You’ll be fine.”

He shifts closer, his arm brushing yours. “You think so?”

“Of course,” you whisper. “You’re Jack Hughes.”

He laughs, but it’s softer this time, almost hesitant. The air between you feels different, thicker, heavier. His fingers twitch on the dock beside yours, and for a second, you swear he’s about to reach for your hand.

But then he exhales sharply, sits up. “We should get back.”

And just like that, the moment is gone.

You stare at the fireworks exploding in the sky, feeling like something inside you is breaking.

Jack leaves for Team USA at the end of the summer.

And you don’t know it yet, but nothing will ever be the same again.

❥

At first, you still talk all the time. He calls after practices, FaceTimes you from hotel rooms, sends you stupid selfies from road trips. And for a while, it almost feels normal. Almost.

But then the calls get shorter. The messages come slower.

You see his name on headlines, hear people at school talking about him like he’s some distant star instead of the boy you grew up with. And suddenly, he feels… far away.

Not just in distance. In everything.

And then one day, you realize you don’t remember the last time he called.

You don’t text him, either. You figured he was too busy anyways—too busy with hockey, with interviews, too busy for you.

His absence leaves a hollow space inside you, one you don’t know how to fill. So you try.

That’s how you end up with him.

Aiden West. Star quarterback. Tall, broad-shouldered, with an easy smile and dimples that should make your heart flutter.

You meet at a party—one you only went to because your friends dragged you out of your house, tired of you spending your nights holed up in your room, pretending you weren’t waiting for a text that never came.

Aidan’s nice. He’s funny. He buys you drinks and calls you baby and kisses you like he means it.

You tell yourself this is good. That this is what you need.

But when he holds your hand, it doesn’t feel the same. When he kisses you, you don’t melt the way you think you should. And when you close your eyes, it’s not Aidan you see.

It’s Jack. Always Jack.

Quinn comes home in December.

You’re not expecting to see him, not really. Ever since he was drafted, he spent all his time in Vancouver, busy with his own life, his own team. But one night, you walk into the Hughes’ house, and there he is, sprawled on the couch like he never left.

“Quinn?” you blink.

He smirks, sitting up. “Hey, kid.”

You roll your eyes but smile anyway. “You’re, like, a few years older than me. I’m not a kid.”

“You’ll always be a kid to me,” he teases, but then his expression softens. “How’ve you been?”

You shrug. “Good.”

He gives you a look, like he can see right through you. Because of course he can.

Quinn has always been quieter than Jack, more observant. He was the one who bandaged your scraped knees when you and Jack were too reckless, the one who ruffled your hair when you had a bad day, the one who watched you grow up and somehow always knew what you were feeling before you even said it.

And right now, you can tell he knows you’re lying.

“You still talk to Jack?” he asks casually.

You stiffen. “Not really.”

Quinn nods, like that’s what he expected. “He’s been busy.”

“I know,” you say quickly, too quickly. “It’s fine.”

He studies you for a moment. Then, his eyebrows furrow. “You dating that football guy?”

You hesitate. “Yeah. Kinda.”

Quinn tilts his head, his expression unreadable. “You like him?”

You swallow. “He’s… nice.”

Quinn leans back, crossing his arms. “You know, I’ve seen you happy before.”

You furrow your brows. “And?”

“And that’s not what you look like right now.”

The words hit deeper than you want them to. You look away, staring at your hands.

Quinn sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do. If you like the guy, great. But don’t force something that isn’t real just because—” He pauses.

You glance up. “Just because what?”

Quinn meets your eyes, and for the first time, his voice is gentle. “Just because Jack hurt you.”

Your throat tightens.

You don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say.

Because he’s right. And maybe that’s the worst part of all.

❥

Aidan is kind when he breaks up with you.

That almost makes it worse.

You can tell he’s been thinking about it for a while. The way he exhales before he starts speaking, the way his hands stay tucked into the pocket of his hoodie like he’s afraid if he moves too much, you’ll see how much this is bothering him.

“You’re not really here, Y/N,” he says, voice steady but laced with something bitter, something tired.

You don’t argue, because you know he’s right.

He sighs, shaking his head. “I like you. I really do. But I deserve someone who looks at me like I’m the only one they’re thinking about.”

Your stomach twists.

“Aidan—”

“It’s fine,” he cuts in, forcing a small smile. “I knew. I think I always did.” He swallows, glancing away before meeting your eyes again. “It was never gonna be me, was it?”

You want to tell him you tried. That you wanted to feel something more, something real. But the truth is, no matter how hard you tried, he was never Jack.

And that was never fair to him.

So instead, you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He nods, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “Yeah. Me too.”

A few days pass, and you still feel hollow, like you’re floating through life without really being in it.

You don’t know why you still go to the Hughes’ house. Maybe it’s habit. Maybe it’s because it still feels like home, even when things don’t feel the same anymore.

Maybe it’s because, deep down, you just need someone who knows you.

Luke opens the door, and before you can even say anything, his face twists in concern.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

You pause. “What?”

Luke steps aside to let you in, closing the door behind you. “You have your sad face on.”

You frown. “Luke Hughes, I do not have a—”

“You totally do,” he interrupts, flopping onto the couch. He gestures for you to sit next to him, and after a moment, you do.

There’s a beat of silence before he says, “Quinn told me everything.”

You freeze. “Everything?”

Luke gives you a knowing look. “Yeah. And I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at Jack since we were kids.”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Luke sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Look, I know he messed up. Jack is kind of known for that. And I know you’re hurt. But…” He hesitates. “You still love him, don’t you?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Luke—”

“Just be honest,” he says gently.

Your throat tightens. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I do.”

Luke nods like he already knew that was coming. Then he pulls something out of his pocket and holds it out to you.

You frown. “What’s this?”

“Tickets,” he says simply.

You blink. “Tickets?”

“To Jack’s game against Finland.” His voice is casual, but there’s something behind it—something careful, like he knows he’s walking a fine line. “I was gonna go, but I think you should instead.”

Your heart stops.

“Luke…”

“Don’t overthink it,” he says quickly. “Just go. See him. Talk to him.”

You stare at the tickets in his hand, your pulse pounding in your ears.

This is a choice. A chance.

And to be completely honest, you aren’t sure if you’re ready.

❥

You end up deciding not to go until the last minute.

The plane ticket burns in your hands, Luke’s voice echoing in your head: Just go. See him. Talk to him.

So you do. You land in Finland, stomach in knots, trying not to think about what you’ll even say to him. If he’ll even want to see you.

But then the game happens. And Jack loses.

The scoreboard tells you everything—3-2, Finland. A brutal, heartbreaking end.

Jack stays on the ice, shoulders hunched, wiping his face as the Finnish players celebrate around him. You can see the way he’s blinking rapidly, how hard he’s trying to hold it together.

It doesn’t work.

By the time he’s in the tunnel for postgame interviews, it’s like the weight of everything finally crashes over him. The cameras capture everything; his red-rimmed eyes, the way his lips tremble when he speaks, the way his voice wavers when he says, “I feel like I let everyone down.”

Your heart cracks wide open. You don’t think. You just go.

You push through the lingering crowd, through the halls of the arena, heart racing. And then—there he is.

Jack is leaning against the wall, head bowed, gripping a water bottle so tightly his knuckles are white. His shoulders shake slightly, like he’s trying to get a grip, but he’s losing the battle.

You inhale sharply, willing yourself forward.

“Jack.”

His head snaps up, eyes widening. And for a second, he just stares.

Like he doesn’t believe you’re real.

“Y/N?” His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

You nod, stepping closer. But before you can say anything else, Jack clears his throat and quickly swipes at his face, straightening up like he’s trying to compose himself.

Then he blurts out, “How’s Aidan?”

You freeze.

Jack lets out a broken laugh, looking down. “Quinn told me you had a boyfriend,” he mutters, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I—uh, I’m happy for you. You deserve that.”

You swallow hard, your chest tightening. “Jack—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts, still not looking at you. “I always wanted you to be happy.”

He sniffles, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes. He looks exhausted. Worn down in a way you’ve never seen before.

And suddenly, it’s too much.

The space between you. The months of silence. The fact that he still doesn’t know the truth.

You move before you can stop yourself, closing the gap and wrapping your arms around him.

Jack stiffens, sucking in a sharp breath.

But then—slowly, so slowly—it’s like something inside him gives in.

His hands grip your back, his face pressing into your shoulder, and he melts.

You feel his shaky exhale against your neck. The way his fingers curl into the jersey you’re wearing with his name on the back, like he’s afraid if he lets go, you’ll disappear.

And for the first time in a long time, you feel whole again.

“I don’t—” Jack’s voice cracks. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

Your throat tightens. “Then don’t. Just just let me be here.”

Jack exhales shakily, nodding against you. “Okay.”

Despite your reassurance, he still feels like he’s falling.

The weight of the loss, the pressure, the expectations, it’s all crashing over him, relentless and suffocating. But in the middle of it all, there’s you.

And when you pull back slightly, just enough to look at him, he realizes you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

Your hands stay on his face, thumbs brushing against his damp skin, and there’s something in your expression, something soft and certain that makes his chest ache.

Then you move closer, tilting your head, and suddenly, suddenly—your lips press against his.

Jack stills.

Then, all at once, he melts into you.

His hands slide to your waist, gripping onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him standing. Your lips are soft, warm, familiar, but new at the same time, like something that was always supposed to happen but never did.

It feels like breathing again. Like finally getting it right.

But then, Jack realizes and he blinks, something clicking in his mind as he pulls back abruptly, still holding onto you but panting slightly.

“Wait,” he says, voice hoarse. “Aidan.”

You shake your head quickly. “We broke up.”

His brows furrow. “What?”

You exhale, your hands sliding from his face to his wrists, squeezing lightly. “Jack, I tried to move on. I tried so hard.” Your voice wavers. “But it was never him. It was always you.”

Jack’s lips part slightly, his breath hitching.

Then, suddenly, he laughs—a broken, disbelieving sound before his face crumples, his eyes shining again.

And just like that, he’s crying.

He presses his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut as his grip on your waist tightens.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted you to say that,” he whispers, his voice shaking.

You smile softly, brushing his hair back. “I think I do.”

Jack lets out a shaky exhale, his hands fisting the fabric of your jersey, like he’s terrified you’ll disappear if he lets go. But you don’t.

Because after everything—after the distance, the silence, the missed chances—you’re still here.

He sniffles, pulling you into another tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder.

❥

Later, when the chaos dies down and the arena empties, you end up in Jack’s car.

The heater hums softly, filling the silence, the city lights casting faint shadows across the dashboard.

Jack sits in the driver’s seat, head tilted against the headrest, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. You’re next to him, legs curled up on the seat, leaning against his shoulder.

It’s quiet.

Not awkward. Not heavy. Just comfortable.

Jack sighs, nudging his cheek against your hair. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

You smile faintly, reaching for his hand. “Me neither.”

He squeezes your fingers, his grip warm and sure. “I thought I lost you.”

You shake your head, squeezing back. “You never did.”

Jack exhales, his body relaxing against yours, and for the first time in a long time, hfeels whole again.

❥

The lake house feels the same the next summer.

The scent of pine and sunscreen still lingers in the air, the dock still creaks under your feet, and the water still glistens under the late afternoon sun. But this time, Jack is here. And this time, he’s yours.

He had turned freshly nineteen last month, but still was the same annoying boy you had known since you were seven.

You sit on the old wooden dock, legs stretched out, the warm breeze tangling your hair. Jack is lying beside you, one arm draped lazily over his forehead, his other hand resting on your knee, tracing absentminded patterns over your skin.

It’s quiet, just the sound of the water lapping against the shore and the occasional laughter from inside the house, where Quinn and Luke are probably chirping each other over something stupid.

Jack sighs, turning his head to look at you. “I missed this.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his. “Me too.”

He studies you for a moment, his eyes soft, warm, completely yours. Then, without a word, he tugs you down so you’re lying next to him, your head resting on his chest.

“You know,” he muses, fingers trailing up and down your back, “last summer, I thought I’d never get this back.”

You inhale slowly, letting his heartbeat ground you. “Me too.”

Jack tilts his head, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But we made it.”

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Yeah,” you whisper, smiling. “We did.”

He grins, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat, then flips you onto your back, hovering over you with that look—the one that reminds you he’s still the same Jack, the same boy who used to splash you in the lake, who used to steal your s’mores when you weren’t looking, who used to be your best friend before he was everything.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Luke’s voice echoes from the house, and you both groan.

Jack turns his head, scowling. “Luke, I swear—”

Quinn’s voice cuts in. “Let them be, Luke. They suffered enough.”

You laugh as Jack rolls his eyes. “I hate that he’s right.”

You shake your head, pulling Jack back down. “Just kiss me already.”

He smirks. “Gladly.”

And as his lips meet yours, the sun dips below the horizon and the lake glistens around you, making you realize everything is exactly the way it’s meant to be.

It isn’t until Luke pretends to fake barf that Jack removes himself away from you, opting to chase down his little brother.

“Boys, am I right?” Quinn says, giving you a grin.

You wrap your arms around him, never feeling as whole as you did now.

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Different First Meeting I NSFW I Public Indecency I 2.8k words

He's planted. Call him The White Tree of Gondor, he's so planted. Nothing and no one could move him from this spot.

He's going to have perfect line of sight to center stage, as long as no one over 6’3” stands in front of him. He's got his good boots on, giving him a solid three inch lift.

Some people come and go, not as dedicated to keeping their spot. Not Eddie. He's planted.

“You think he moved back?” Some chick yells behind him.

“Doubt it,” her companion yells back, “the point was to get closer.”

“Well I don't know if I can deal with closer. It's only going to get worse when the band goes on, and I'm at my limit for men touching me today.”

“I'm pretty sure there's beer in my hair.”

“A fate worse than death,” she mocks him, making Eddie chuckle. “You wanna bail? He can come find us after.”

“I don't know, Rob, he's just a kid. What if he gets scared?”

“Oh my god, he's sixteen.”

“He's short!” The guy yells shrilly, practically in Eddie's ear. “No way he can see over top everyone's head.”

“Okay, then you stay, dingus. I'm going to go pay $12 for a bottle of water. Come find me after.”

“Rob! C'mon, don't- Rob! Ah shit.”

Eddie almost turns to give the guy some reassurance but he can't, making friends in the crowd is how you end up getting pulled into another direction. He can't chance it. He's planted.

Not to mention his friend was right, the more time that passes, the more packed in they become. Once or twice the guy behind him gets jostled into Eddie's back, mumbling apologies each time. Eddie doesn't bother to reply.

He's determined to ignore the guy until suddenly they're pressed front to back, shoulder to calf, the guys massive hands wrapping solidly around Eddie's waist so they don't fall down, and he's fucked. Suddenly the guy behind him is all he's thinking about.

Of course this turn of events sends the poor guy into apology overdrive, hands ripped back immediately as he stutters his excuses.

Eddie waves it off, still not turning away from the front, but the urge is strong. He kind of needs to see if the guy is as hot as that ten second press against him would suggest. Christ on a bike, he even smells good. At least Eddie is pretty sure that's him, the pine/sugar/sweat combo.

A glance at his watch tells him they've got maybe another ten minutes until the show starts. Five minutes ago that would've been all he would've cared about but now he's got Hot Boy Brain Rot and can't focus.

Which is why the next time they get pushed together, Eddie does absolutely nothing to help correct, he lets the guy pull him back and very nearly fall flat on their asses. The only reason they don't is because they fall into the people pressing forward.

“I swear to god, I'm not doing this on purpose,” the guy says with a chuckle that warms Eddie’s already sweaty skin. He hasn't let go yet, his enormous hands hold Eddie upright, skin on skin where his shirt has been cropped.

He's lost his mind completely, because he puts his own hands on the ones circling his waist and squeeze, a soft acceptance of their predicament. It could mean nothing if the guy is straight - maybe, probably, he's not good at judging that sort of thing - but if the hot guy standing behind him is in any way interested, he'll understand.

And praise Dale, raise hell, he does! Long fingers tighten, slide, tighten, before letting go again. He's pretty sure the guy just stuck his thumbs into the indents at the top of his ass too.

Which is when he realizes there's a not zero percent chance the guy thinks Eddie is a girl.

He forgot he's wearing a kilt, which idiots seem to think is a skirt 70% of the time he has it on. Combining that with his hair being down and the fact that he hasn't turned around at all… Fuck.

You're 6’2” right now. Maybe that's enough of a hint. Or your hairy legs? No, it's way too dark to see that far down, no way he-

Eddie squeaks as the guy runs a finger tip along the edge of the kilt. Luckily, it's too loud for the sound to travel, that would've been devastating.

The guy leans forward and whisper/yells, “Is this okay?” into his ear.

Eddie nods, takes a miniscule step back, bringing himself closer. He's gonna take this as far as he can before they either get kicked out for indecent acts or the guy realizes what he's doing and bashes Eddie for ‘tricking him.’ The smart thing to do would be to fucking turn around and confirm his stupid gender but… it's nice feeling wanted for a moment. Nice enough for whatever the consequences are.

An arm snakes around his middle, a fucking nice arm, all sinewy and freckled and brown, causing a surge of giddiness. They're pressed together again, this time on purpose. The guy seems to instinctively know Eddie has this spot picked out because he doesn't let anyone push them or get between. He does, however, laugh every time they get jostled closer together. It's infectious too, makes him smile along every time he hears that giggle. If the guy doesn't stop being adorable soon, Eddie is gonna fall in love.

Whoops. Too late. There's an enormous cock pressed up against his ass; any semblance of control or ability to play it cool goes right out the window.

He's never been more proud of himself for taking up street hockey with Jeff and his cousins than this moment. Some asshole had said to him, years ago now, ‘No one wants a bottom with a flat ass,’ and Eddie let that settle into a deep seated neurosis that pushed him into sports. Casual sports, that actually turned out to be pretty fun, but still…

Anyway, he's got an ass worth pushing against now, which is doing fantastic things for the whole ‘accidently luring a stranger into simulating sex acts at a concert' thing he's got going on.

Good god are they playing with fire right now. Yeah everyone is distracted by the drum tech setting up but it's not like they're invisible here. The guy to Eddie's left is just as close as the one rubbing off against his ass, if he glances down he's gonna see what they're doing. That thought only brings Eddie closer to finishing, untouched, in his underwear. His own erection is being held down by his boxer briefs, which are always a good choice when wearing a kilt. Shit happens in the pit, he's never been keen on flashing his bare ass to everyone if he takes a header.

He's snaking a hand down, trying to be subtle, but he needs to squeeze his dick or he's going to start crying.

His new friend must catch the movement because his right hand follows the trajectory, sliding right along with Eddie’s, until they're both stalled out, cuping his hip instead of his erection. Eddie thinks about passing out, he's so turned on and terrified. Either the guy knows he's about to touch a human penis or he's about to get an unwelcome surprise.

Before Eddie's heart can explode and kill him, three things happen rapid fire:

The lights go completely dark, signifying the start of the show, which makes the already packed stadium lose its collective shit.

Then there's a call from behind, the dreaded, “Heads up!” Eddie only just manages not to burst into tears as his one true love has to let go to support the weight of the asshole crowd surfing above them. He makes sure to pinch the fucker as he takes the weight of his stupid leg as it goes by.

Then, immediately after, there's another crowd surge as the first lick of Blackened rings out around them. Adrenaline pumps through Eddie like a lava flow, two desires waring within him making it impossible to choose. Does he turn to find the man of his dreams or does he stay the course and watch the greatest metal show of all time?

Considering this is the third time he's seen Metallica live, he turns around.

He's gone. The only people behind him now are two chicks with their tits painted white and gold and a middle aged biker.

Awesome.

He keeps looking but no one near fits the right description, not even close. Why the fuck didn't he turn around and just look at the guy? At least then he'd know who to look for after the show.

It's not like his night is completely ruined or anything. He jumps in the closest pit and takes his disappointment on the poor bastards unlucky enough to crash into him, and he has a splendid time with that. It wasn't his original plan, he wanted to stay center stage and actually watch the show this time, but he's too keyed up to stand still now, better to shove his fellow man and get elbowed for his troubles.

By the time James is wailing out the final insane notes of Battery, Eddie is thoroughly beat. It's a slog getting to the back of the stadium but he's determined to beat the crowd to the pissers. The night was fun and all but he's ready to go. Ready to stick his hand down his pants(kilt), relive the oddest and hottest encounter he's ever experienced, and then forget it ever happened.

He's made it as far as the merch line when a familiar voice yells his name. He looks back and sure enough, Dustin Henderson is waving at him like a semaphore code operator. Goofy ass kid, Eddie loves him to death.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asks after giving him a back slapping hug.

“Surprise early birthday gift, I didn't know until yesterday or I would've told you.” His whole body is thrumming with excitement. It must be his first metal show. You wouldn't know it to look at him, he's got a whole mini-Eddie thing happening, which is adorable.

“That's awesome, dude. You didn't want to stay till the end?”

“I already saw their setlist and calculated the timing just right to get in line before the crowd let out.” Of course he did. “What about you? Taking off?”

“Yeah, I've had…a weird night. Good but weird.”

“You wanna ditch in line? Looks like they still have plenty of T-shirts available.”

He laughs. “Nah, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home. I'll see you Saturday?”

“Totally, wouldn't miss it-”

“There you are! Jesus, Henderson, I thought I lost you. Your mom would kill me if something-”

The guy finally stops bitching but only because he's staring at Eddie like he's seen a ghost.

“Uhh,” Eddie drawls, confused.

“Steve! This is Eddie! You know, from Hellfire, at Tech.”

It would be appropriate for them to shake hands, he thinks, but the guy is just staring at him, going more and more red as the seconds pass. It's a good thing he's pretty because his social skills could use some work.

“Hey dingus, did the beer in your hair finally soak into your brain.” The woman standing to Steve's left knocks on his forehead with a knuckle, making him flinch.

“You guys okay?”

Eddie is too busy being strapped into a roller coaster of emotion to respond to Henderson’s quiry. It can't be this easy, fate has never been this kind or cruel to Eddie, not at the same time. His dream man can't be Dustin's babysitter/big brother Steve. That guy drives a BMW and listens to Supertramp, which he only knows because he followed Dustin out to the parking lot one night. Except, Steve is gorgeous and fun and a good dude who worries about his kids, and is smoking hot.

He knows Steve knows he knows now, his own face has gone beet red, and they're just staring at each other, like some kind of gorgon in a bathroom mirror situation.

“What is this? Why are you being weird?” Steve's girlfriend - Rob? - asks. “Wait, oh my god, is Dustin’s other dad, your imagined arch nemesis, the Guy in the Crowd? Holy shit, he totally is, what are the fucking odds!” She cackles.

Wait. He told her about that? And he knew I'm a guy? And he thought we were nemesis? That's so hot.

Dustin is going on about Steve's apparent low self esteem and how Steve needn't worry about his loyalty and how he loves them both equally, which is sweet, but he and Steve are still just staring at each other.

“I know a good diner around here,” he blurts out when Dustin finally shuts up. “They have all you can eat pancakes.”

Steve's eyes do something devastating, adjacent to cows touching grass for the first time. “I like pancakes.”

“Let's get pancakes.”

“Okay.”

They start walking away, dazed, until Dustin reminds them of his presence, loudly and with much insult. “Steve! You drove us here!”

“Shit.” He turns back. “Right. Sorry. C'mon, we're getting pancakes.”

Dustin looks to Rob, as if to say, ‘What the fuck is going on?’ She replies back with a sort of ‘I don't get paid enough to explain this to children’ and ‘I know, he's hopeless but we love him’ both kinda look.

“What?” Steve asks.

“I'm still in line, dude. I want a T-shirt.”

“But-”

“No buts!” Dustin screeches. “Pancakes can wait!”

Eddie wishes they would figure it out soon, he still has to piss.

Rob, bless her, she's Eddie's new best friend, takes Dustin under her arm and asks Eddie, “Where's the diner?”

“25th and Dudley Ave. Called Roxy's.”

“Got it. Go on, I'll bring your son after he's got his stupid shirt.”

Dustin is the epitome of disbelief. “What! No! Guys, don't leave me with Robin!” He yells, to which Robin responds by putting him in a headlock.

“Go! Run before he figures out what's going on.”

Steve doesn't need to be told twice, apparently, he grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks him toward the exit doors. It’s exciting, running away with Steve, even though they’re only running from Dustin. Still, it leaves them both breathless by the time they get to the end of the block, both laughing about how ridiculous it all is.

“God. Haven't run like that since…well the last time the cops were after me.”

Steve just grins, hands on his knees, looking like a former athlete, all deep breaths and physical therapy style stretching. Fucking hot jocks, ugh.

Eddie wants to mount him.

Which brings them up to the awkward part: acknowledging what happened.

Steve braves it first. “Hey, I, uh, I don't want you to think I go around doing shit like that.”

Eddie, ever the opportunistic asshole, says, “Shit like what?” When Steve's face falls to horror, perfectly timed, and Eddie loses it. “I'm kidding, sorry, I'm just fucking with you. It was definitely me.”

“Dick,” Steve says but he's laughing.

“Yeah, that's me.” They sort of instinctively move away from the street, closer to the less busy side storefronts. “In the interest of honesty, I should tell you, I wasn't entirely sure you knew I wasn't a girl, that's why I sort of hesitated right there at the end, before we got separated.”

Steve looks baffled. “Huh?”

“You know.” He waves at himself. “From the back I could be a tall chick. Cause of the kilt and the hair and everything.”

He shakes his head. “Dude, I saw you from like four rows back. Why do you think I stopped where I did?”

Fuck. Okay. That's…awesome. He jams a whole fistful of hair against his face.

“Also, even if you had turned out to be a tall chick, not a deal breaker. You're fucking hot either way.”

“Okay, Romeo, cool it with the compliments before I make you finish what you started right here.”

Jesus tap-dancing Christ, that smirk should be illegal.

“Right here against the jewelry shop window? I'm not opposed.” Eddie very seriously considers the pros and cons of that but before he finishes, Steve laughs. “Better not. I was promised pancakes. And Lord have mercy if Rob and Henderson get there before we do.”

He's right. God dammit.

“Fine but for the record, which I feel goes without saying, I do put out on the first date.”

Steve laughs. “Never would've guessed.”

By the time they get to Roxy's, Steve has his arm around Eddie's waist, pinkie tucked deep into his kilt.

[luvyeni]

RIDIN' WITH YOU ,, 이제노

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ streetracer!jeno x fem!reader wc. 5.7k

genre. smut

🦢◞  including ... illegal street racing, oral ( fem. receiving ), unprotected sex

request. Can I request a biker jeno where the reader is almost ran over by him on a motorcycle and they start knocking into each other from there

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 enjoy it !

❪ masterlist! ❫

being new to the city you weren't aware of the roads you weren't supposed to take; and yeah the road was quiet which was weird, but you didn't question it.

“why didn't you just take a cab?” chaeryoung, your roommate asked , “it's the quickest way to the apartment.” she was right it was the quickest way back to your shared apartment, but being new and all you just wanted to take a look at the city. “night time surely isn't the best time to do that but all right.” she said. “i know but i'm almost home , wait up for me yeah?” she hummed. “okay.”

you hung up; continuing down the road, unbeknownst to you, the street you used wasn't always quiet, in fact it was the loudest street at night and you'd soon find out why.

jeno pulled up to the lot , street full of motorcycles and other people waiting for the show. “you're late.” haechan said. “yeah well i had a class, i couldn't just leave.” he said. “look at you trying to be all studious.” he rolled his eyes at the boy. “where's mark, need to know who im racing today.” haechan pointed to the older boy who was chatting up some girl. “renjun knows ask him.”

“jaemin and some new kid.” renjun told the boy. “new kid is over there, jaemin will probably be your only competition tonight.” he smirked. “jaemin? my competition please?” the other overheard this , his arm was wrapped around one of the many girls who'd come and watch them ride. “you scare jeno lee?” he smirked. “please jaemin when was the first time you've won against me?”

“you wanna bet on it?” jeno didn't really care about money, he loved the thrill of speeding down a road; that doesn't mean he was gonna pass up. “$100?” he shook hands with the boy. “both of you gear up , it's time to hit the road.”

the cheers were loud; the motors from the three motorcycles roared as they waited for mark’s call. “remember be careful, don't die; i won't be the one calling your parent's.” he turned to the scared newbie, turning to jaemin who was too busy making out with a girl to notice; this was gonna be too easy. “jaemin!” jisung another racer called. “i'm ready.” he said putting his helmet on.

“alright you guys ready” mark shouted over the screams, jeno focused on the road. “go!” jeno took off , speeding down the road , this is the part he loved , hitting the gas hard, speeding up down the road that no one ever used; so he wasn't suspecting someone to be crossing the road.

the loud music blasting through your headphones as you came up on the street end of the street; ready to cross the street— maybe you should've looked both ways like you were taught as a young child, or even taken the your headphones off; because if you did you would've heard the motorcycle that's was bolting down the road. stepping out into the street , the only thing finally catching your attention was the light; looking up, the only thing you could brace for was death— but it never came.

he was in the lead; coming up on the turn that would put close to the finish line. the light from his bike was bright so he could see the road in front of him; he didn't even notice you; until he did and it was too late to beep the horn or slow down, your eyes finally connecting with his , you were an actual deer in the headlights, he took a hard right, a quick turn around he saw you on the ground , shocked.

he kept going; he almost hit you and he kept going. turning the corner after almost hitting the pole, you were in shock; quickly standing up out of the street , running across the rest of the street, you were in luck too because two more motorcycles came roaring down the street , turning down the same block.

the shock of almost dying finally wore off; then the pain set in, looking down at your knees , you noticed the blood dripping from it. “that's just great.” you winced— you for sure we're taking a cab home next time, screw trying to see what the city had to offer, clearly it had jerks in leather jackets who were trying to kill you and themselves.

speeding past the line; people cheering for his victory, but he was pissed. the two bikes coming in; he hopped off his bike taking his helmet off, throwing it to the ground in anger. “whoa what fuck is wrong with you?” renjun asked. “why are you so upset you won?” mark asked , jaemin taking his helmet off. “im $100 dollars broke now thank you very much.” he said bitterly. “i almost hit some chick on the street , i fucked up the turn almost hit a pole.” he growled.

“i didn't see a girl.” jaemin said. “you sure it just wasn't an animal?” mark asked. “how many animals you know that are 5 feet and wear dressing.” he picked his helmet up, a large chip in due to him slamming it on the ground. “shit.” he hissed. “don't worry about it right now.” mark comforted the boy. “look, let's just get you a drink and girl, the night is still young and there's many races left , haechan and johnny are racing tonight.”

“haechan and johnny?” he said confused. “haechan thinks he can beat Johnny.” he laughed. “has the last three time not proven anything?” the elder shook his head. “everyone is betting against him , jisung felt bad so he voted for him , he's in for a rude awakening, let's go.” he said , the boy followed behind , completely ready to forget about the girl he almost hit.

…

“i told you to take a cab; you didn't and now look.” chaeryoung said as you walked through the campus; she walked you more so limped, the results of the fall. “how was i supposed to know they do races on that street?” you asked. “um, did the quiet road not imply anything?” she had a point, of course you weren't gonna admit it. “yeah well that doesn't matter, im never walking again.”

“i gave you the money, i still want a rematch though.” jaemin said , jeno scoffed, they were hanging around during break waiting for their classes to start. “you and haechan are gonna go broke trying to prove something.” he laughed. “hey i almost beat johnny last night.” renjun rolled his eyes. “please, he had you by 10 blocks.” jeno laughed at his friend's expense. “you’ll get him next time.” he knew he was lying but who was he to shut down his friends dreams. “i gotta go now.” he checked his phone. “gotta take my bike to the shop and get a new helmet after class.” he stood up , walking away.

“i have a shift today at the store.” you said. “you sure you'll be able to work today, what about your leg?” you nodded. “doyoung let's me sit down so it's fine.” you looked down at your knee, luck just wasn't on your side again because before chaeryoung could call for you to look up, you were bumping against a hard surface. “umph.” chaeryoung caught you before you fell. “jesus do i need to bubble wrap you?”

“you okay?” the voice of the person you bumped into said. “im fine.” you picked up your books that you dropped. “luckily my phone isn't cracked.” you finally looked at him, his eyes widening. “you.”

“yn?” chaeryoung looked at you, with confusion in her eyes. “do i know you?” you asked. “you should i almost killed you last night,” he said folding his arms. “well why are you upset with me? You almost killed me, not the other way around.” you frowned. “why were you on that road in the first place, any smart person knows what's it used for.” was he serious right now? he almost kills you and he's asking questions. “not if they're new to the city which i am.” you shot back. “you don't seem to be hurt, meanwhile my knee is messed up, are you gonna apologize for that?” he scoffed. “are you dead?”

“well no.” you said, he nodded, with a smug smile speaking. “well there's your apology.” was all he said, before he turned on his heel walking away. “what an asshole.” chaeryoung said. “he almost kills you and doesn't have the decency to apologize.” she scoffed. “who even is that?” you asked. “jeno lee, him and his group of degenerate friends do illegal street racing for cash sometimes.” she said. “you've been?” you asked. “absolutely not , i wouldn't be caught dead now there, ryujin, my friend from my class races down there , she's the only girl.” she said. “hot.” you said, she rolled her eyes. “don't let her hear you say that , it will go to her head.”

“everything looks fine, the breaks need tightening though.” johnny said after looking at his bike. “and you need a new helmet,” he said. “thank you johnny.” he said. “i thought something might've broken, i took a hard turn last night.” he said. “yeah i heard you hit a girl last night.” he scoffed. “i didn't hit her , in fact she has only a scratch.” he said. “you know her?” the elder asked. “not really, apparently she goes to the same university, she bumped into me earlier.”

“clumsily girl, she pretty?” johnny asked with a smirk. “she has a mouth on her.” he grumbled. “not what i asked.” jeno looked at the boy. “she's cute.” he confessed, he could remember your bows in your hair from earlier, he remembers one thing from that night, you had the same ones. “how cute?” johnny smirked , jeno rolled his eyes. “are you gonna fix my breaks today or do i need to call a cab back home?”

“it's not gonna take that long, i can be done in about an hour.” jeno nodded. “thanks so much.” he said , his stomach rumbling. “the convenience store is still open, go get something to eat.” johnny said. “by time you come back it should be done.” jeno nodded. “i’ll be right back.” he said. “bring me back a pack of smokes.” he left out the auto body shop doors.

“is it broken? have you been to the doctors?” doyoung, your boss asked worriedly. “i should've made you get into a cab, you're new here, you don't know your way around.” you laughed. “i'm fine doyoung, just a little pain , it will go away soon, stop worrying so much.” you said. “how can i not , you're one of my best workers, and i only have two.” he said. “and do you see haechan anywhere , i'll die if you leave.” he stressed. “try and stay off it , lord, what am i gonna do with you kids.” he walked to the back, you smiled at your boss.

“what did you get for number 13?” chaeryoung said over the phone, just as the door opened. “hello.” you didn't bother looking up at the person. “it's 12.” you said. “12? i got 2.” she said. “im not sure why— look i have customers we'll finish this later.” you said, “and redo that math, it's not correct.” you hung up, just as a lady and her daughter came up to the register. “hello.” you smiled, the lady looked remorseful. “im sorry my daughter spilled a milk in the isle.” she said the little girl hid behind her mother. “hey sweetie, it's okay.” you grabbed a loli from the counter. “here , my boss won't mind.” you whispered , smiling. “thank you.” she smiled.

“don't worry, i'll clean it up.” you said as they left the store. “thank you so much and im so sorry.” she quickly ushered her child out. “crap.” you stood up a pain shooting through your leg. “ow fuck!” you whispered shouted bending down to fix the bandage. “give me a pack of smokes.” you straighten up, “i need more than that.” you said , finally realizing who it was. “you again?”

he made eye contact with you. “for someone that's new to the city , you surely are everywhere,” he said. “or are you just following me.” he smirked. “yeah, i managed to track where you lived , and got a job within the hours.”

“i don't live around here princess, im getting my bike fixed.” he said , you gulped. “do-dont call me that.” you stuttered. “a pack of smokes please.” he smirked , noticing your red face. “princess.” you turned around, grabbing a random pack of cigarettes. “h-here, give me the money.” you said , taking his bills putting them in register. “did i break your bike?”

“why princess , you feel bad?” he smiled , gosh his smile was so charming. “we-well — it's fine you didn't do anything, bikes need fixing sometimes.” he said. “especially with what i do.” you nodded. “good.” you said , taking in his appearance. “i-i have to clean that milk up.”

he watched you walk away; he noticed you limping to the back, waiting for you to get back with the mop and bucket; feeling bad , he sat his food down, walking over to you. “move back , go sit down.” he grabbed the mop. “i can do it.” you said. “im trying to apologize princess , go sit down.” he said , you limped back to your seat , watching him , he was incredibly fit , his body flexing in his jacket , it made you hot. “the way you're staring at me , someone can come in and steal and you wouldn't even know princess.” he put the mop in the bucket , putting it to the side , turning with a smirk. “i-i wasn't staring.”

“sure.” he said. “you shouldn't walk home.” he said. “why are you and your friends racing?” he scoffed. “because of your leg.” he said. “well im not , i’ll catch a cab.” you said , handing him his food. “here you go.” you said. “let me take you home.” he said. “on your bike?” you asked. “the thing that almost killed me , im fine.”

“i'll go slow.” he said, you thought about it. “you promise?” he looked at you, doe like eyes , much like what he saw that night. “yeah , princess, i'll go as slow as you like, although faster is always better.” the underlying sexual undertones to that made your body tingle. “so is that a yes?” you nodded. “if it's not too much , i get off in an hour.”

“i just have to go pick up my bike, the auto body shop is only around the corner , wait for me outside okay?” you nodded , smiling. “okay.” you said, he returned a smile. “don't miss me too much princess.” he winked before leaving out the store leaving you flustered.

johnny was almost finished by the time he returned back from the store. “what helmets do girl riders use?” he looked through the helmets. “well your head isn't the size of girls , so why are you asking?” johnny asked. “the girl i almost ran into, she works at the convenience store around the corner.” he said , watching the elder smirk. “she hurt her leg, im giving her ride home.”

“you're buying her a helmet.” johnny said. “you haven't seen this girl, she's not getting on without one, and mine is too big, are you gonna help or not?” the boy said. “this one.” johnny handed him a helmet. “it's pink.” jeno said. “trust me.” he shook his head. “fine.” he handed the boy his card. “be careful.” he said. “please i've had girls on my bike before.”

“where's your cab?” doyoung asked closing up the store; he insisted on waiting with you. “i'm not exactly catching a cab.” just as you said that , the roar of a motorcycle came down the street, jeno stopping in front of the store. “doyoung.” he said. “tell johnny he owes me $50 dollars.” johnny nodded. “multiple packs of cigarettes a week , he's costing me my business.” mumbling making you laugh. “come on princess , we gotta go.”

“you're getting on that thing?” doyoung said. “i pay you enough, you should be able to afford a cab.” he said. “he offered.” you said. “i even got her a helmet.” jeno interrupted. “see.” doyoung nodded. “don't go fast , and hold on tight , if you get hurt i can't be stuck with haechan , tell him to call in every once in a while, jeno , i don't pay him to slack off and barely come in.” you waved to doyoung. “see you tomorrow, okay?” you walked over to the boy. “here.”

he handed you a pink helmet with the tag still on. “did you just buy this?” you asked. “no i keep it just in case.” he said sarcastically. “don't worry about that , just put it on and get on.” he said , you put the helmet on , slowly climbing on the back. “okay let's go.” he laughed. “oh princess , you clearly haven't done this before.” he reached back, grabbing your hands. “wh-what?” he wrapped them around his waist. “so you won't fall off.” he said. “tighter baby.” you wish he would stop with those names. “is this tight enough?”

he smirked , taking off; you yelped , your arms locking around his waist. “you jerk!” you shrieked; he felt your head leaning on his back as he flew down the streets of the city.

you peaked your eyes open , seeing the cars and buildings fly by; you fully opened your eyes , slowly sticking your hand out to feel the wind , jeno could see you through the window , he smiled , coming to a stop light. “you like it?” he asked. “can you slow down a bit?” he heard your small voice. “it is pretty though.” you said. “and the wind feels nice.”

the light turned red , signaling him to go. “we’re almost to your dorm , hang on.” he said. “I'll go slower.” he said taking off , a little bit slower , but it was much better , he could feel your arms around his waist as he pulled up in front of your dorm. “we're here princess , you can open your eyes.”

he helped you off the bike , taking the helmet off your head. “that thing is scary.” you said. “how do you ride it all the time?” he smiled. “it's the adrenaline princess , the rush.” he said. “that's what i love about it.” you chewed on your bottom lip. “you know how your bows is your choice of drug?” you pouted , he smiled. “this mines.”

“yours is gonna get yourself hurt.” you said. “you worried about me princess , earlier you were ready to chop my head off.” you folded your arms. “well that's because you didn't apologize, now that you have , and you've been nice to me , i can't help but stress.” you said. “i can handle myself , don't worry that pretty little head,” he said. “go in and ice that knee,” he said. “my name is yn.” you said. “i know princess , i read your nametag,” he said, you scoffed. “bye bye jeno.” you waved him off. “go in princess.” he watched you go inside the dorms , before putting his helmet on , speeding back down the road.

…

“i still can't believe you get on that thing.” chaeryoung said , it had been a week since then , you've seen him a few times , he even gave you a ride home after class. “and with him nonetheless.” you both walked through the campus after class. “you don't know him he's a degenerate yn.” she said. “he is nice and even bought me a helmet.” you said. “oh well then i guess that makes it okay , you hear my sarcasm right.” she scoffed. “he goes slow.” you shrugged. “after i told him to.” you said. “you talking about me, princess?”

you jumped hearing the voice, turning around. “i don't appreciate being called a degenerate.” jeno said. “don't worry, i mean your friends as well.” chaeryoung looked to the boy on his left. “especially you na jaemin.” the boy smirked. “still upset about me not calling you back?” you could see your friend about to snap. “we're gonna go.” you grabbed her hand , turning to walk away.

“there's a show tonight, you should come.” jeno said. “and why would she do that?” chaeryoung said , he looked at you. “princess?” his gaze pierced through your skin, you chewed your bottom lip. “i-i have to work.” you said. “that's okay , it's at night.” he said. “i can pick you up, i still have the helmet” he smirked. “yn?” chaeryoung said. “well i mean ryujin will be there.” you said. “it couldn't hurt, could it?” you shrugged. “i told ryujin i did before going to one of those things.”

“i can give you a ride.” jaemin said with a smirk , she scoffed. “and it looks like i will die before going.” jeno tapped you. “i'll pick you up after work yeah?” you nodded with a smile. “okay.” you said. “chaeryoung you riding with me?” jaemin winked. “i'll take my chances with ryujin , go fuck yourself na jaemin.” she grabbed your hand , dragging you away. “bye bye!” you waved.

“she's cute.” jaemin said once you were out of earshot. “you like her?” he watched his friend stare at you until he could no longer see you. “i'll take that as a yes.” he patted his friend's shoulders. “you bought her a helmet?” jeno slapped his friends hand off of him. “shut up.” he said. “those things are like a hundred dollars, you met her a week ago, are you crazy?” they continued down the campus , as his friend teased him. “haechan is gonna love this.”

“are you crazy?” doyoung asked; he was so confused on how you met jeno when you entered the shop; so you explained to him— and you may have let it slip that you were going to the race. “yn are you trying to stress me out?” he said. “no need to panic.” you said. “no it is , those bikes are not safe, im worried.” he said. “chaeryoung, my friend she's coming with me , i'll be extra safe.” you reassured the man who became like your older brother. “you better , i'll kill jeno if you get hurt.”

“you better go slow while she's on there.” doyoung hounded the boy. “let me see the helmet she's wearing.” you put your hand on his shoulder. “doyoung , please go before someone robs the store.” he said. “be careful.” he said , before walking away. “are you two related?” he asked. “no i told you i'm new to the city.” you said. “then why is he up my ass like you are?” he got off the bike , opening the seat to grab the helmet. “here.” he said , putting the helmet on your head , helping you on to the bike. “arms princess.”

you wrapped your arms around his waist. “you can go faster today.” he smirked. “yeah , you liked the rush yesterday, didn't you?” you slapped his back. “it's okay little adrenaline junkie , i'll go faster.” he put his helmet on. “hold on tighter baby.” he said right before he turned on the motorcycle , the roar of bike making you flinch. “you're okay , i promise , i won't let you get hurt.” he said before speeding off down the street.

you had to admit , the feeling as you both sored down the street sparked a feeling inside you , you actually managed to keep your eyes open , the sun was setting , the pretty colors blurred with the passing cars , jenos sent was calming to , he checked on you every time you stopped , the heart fluttering jester made you smile , he was actually nice.

he slowed down as you came up on the empty street. “hey this is where you almost killed me.” he scoffed , “but i didn't did i princess?” you nodded. “i guess.” you said. “i haven't harmed you yet, have i?” he said , you started to hear more bikes. “no.” you said. “and i won't , i promise.” he said , you began to see people , a lot of people. “we're here,” he said.

he helped you off the bike , taking your helmet off. “it's loud here , how don't people catch you?” you asked. “luck.” he said, fixing your hair , you blushed. “well would you look at this?” you heard a voice. “when jaemin told me you were bringing someone , i thought he was joking , the bastard was right.”

“that's haechan.” jeno said, “you are the cutest thing.” he held his hand out. “h-hi.” you took it , shaking , making the man in front of you jealous , he pushed it aside , glaring at the boy. “your friend is over there , let me go get checked in and i'll bring you a drink , okay?” you nodded , walking away. “you bought her a helmet?” haechan said. “jaemin said you only knew her for a day.” haechan laughed. “you like her?” they made their way over to the check in. “what does it matter to you?”

“you wanna bet on her?” he said , jeno turned to the boy. “what the fuck do you mean by that?” he questioned. “you know what i mean , don't be dumb.” the other boy smirked. “you win , she's yours , i win — finish that sentence i dare you.” mark noticed the two , stepping in. “hey you know the rules , no fist fighting, you wanna go you use the bikes.” he said.

“what do you say jeno?” jeno scoffed. “you know you can't beat me haechan.” haechan shrugged. “a cutie like that gives me all the motivation i need.” jeno was about to lunge at the boy when jaemin stopped him. “you know he's just trying to get in your head.” the boy said. “you want race lee , let's do it.”

“this is ryujin , she's racing tonight.” chaeryoung said. “really?” you said. “who?” you questioned. “me princess.” jeno handed you a drink. “princess? didn't think you were the relationship type lee.” ryujin said , chaeryoung scoffed. “because he isn't. “who said that?” he said looking at you , your heart pounded. “well loverboy who else is racing?” ryujin asked. “haechan.” her eyebrows furrowing. “okay , you, i understand , you're competition , but hyuck , he lost to jisung.”

“haechan wanted to race me.” he said. “why?” you asked , looking at him with those doe eyes again. “because he has a humiliation kink princess , don't worry,” he said. “well be careful.” you said. “i will.” his hand coming up to your cheek , pinching it , making you giggle. “come on lover boy the show is about to start.” ryujin said. “wait for me at the finish line, yeah?” you nodded. “okay.”

“what was all that about?” chaeryoung asked. “met you only a week and he's already smitten , you got some type of love spell perfume on?” you laughed. “no.” you said , smiling to yourself. “well i see the feelings are mutual , all i say is be careful and be safe.” she said , you nodded. “racers at the mark.”

jeno kept his eyes on you , you waved at him ; he laughed, waving back. “don't let her soften you up lee , i might actually win and take her from.” haechan said , pulling down the shield of his helmet, jeno grunted , pulling his shield down. “ignore him.” ryujin said. “we both know he'll be coming in last.” “racers are you ready?” renjun yelled over the cheers. “don't die.” jeno put his foot on the gas. “please be careful.” you crossed your fingers. “go!” you saw smoke as the racers took off.

“she better be careful.” chaeryoung said , as you waited , you bit your lip nervously. “don't worry, he knows what he's doing.” she reassured you. “i guess.” you said , knowing the boy only a week , you still couldn't help but worry. “he better be.” you bit your fingers. “i hope he is.”

jeno could feel haechan at his side; he sped up , the boys words ringing in his ear, it pissed him off , making him speed up more , your voice in his head as well. “slow down.” was all he heard. “slow down.” he couldn't now , he could see the finish line , where you waited for him , all he had to do was cross the finish line.

“here they come!” someone yelled out , you both ran to the finish line. “oh i can't look.” you said , chaeryoung held your hand , as the bikes came into view. “oh it's him!” you cheered. “he's winning.” you jumped , clapping. he came speeding down the street , and past the line , everyone was cheering , as the other racers drove in.

once he sped past the line , he stopped taking his helmet off , people cheering his name , but he didn't care about that , his mind was on one thing— one person, you. he saw you in a crowd of people , you were searching for him , your eyes finding his. “jeno!” you shouted , running over to him. “you won!”

that was all you could say before his lips were smashing against yours , he held your face , lips moving. “let's get out of here.” he pressed his forehead against yours. “now.” only giving you time to say goodbye to chaeryoung , putting your helmet on and helping you on to his bike. “where are we going?” you asked , the look in his eyes made shivers run down your spine. “mine.”

you couldn't even remember the ride to jenos with how fast he was going; his need for you at the moment was strong , that's why he was taking you to his , he was closer , the closer he was the quicker he could feel you.

pulling up to his apartment complex; parking right in front of it. “come on princess.” he helped you off the bike, taking the helmet off. “let's go up.” he said , his hand low on your back , “you must want me as much as i want you.” he cornered you in the elevator. “you didn't hesitate to get on the bike when i said i was taking you back to mines.” his body covered yours , you looked up at him with wide eyes. “don't look at me like that , it makes me want to ruin you even more.”

it was fair game once he got you into his apartment; he wasted no time , picking you up , wrapping your legs against his waist , pinning you against the wall. “je-jeno.” you moaned , his hand coming up to your neck. “you like this?” he squeezed a little , a whimper falling from your pretty lips. “keep on making those pretty noises baby , makes me want to fuck you right here against this wall.” he growled. “pl-please.”

“no baby , im gonna fuck you right in my bed.” he said , lowering you down , sinking down to his knees. “but i am gonna eat this pretty little pussy right here.” you bit your lip as lifted your dress , dipping his head under , you felt him pulling your panties to the side , kissing your clit. “fu-fuck jeno.” you moaned , as he licked up your cunt. “oh my god.” you gasped.

you grabbed his hair , grinding down on his face, he moaned against your folds , his nose bumping your clit , his hands pinning your waist down to the wall , he was in heaven , this was better than anything he ever felt in his life — maybe even racing. “je-jeno im gonna cum.’ you moaned. “im cumming !” he held you up , your body toppling over as you came hard around his tongue.

he emerged from under your shirt , a smile on his face , his lips covered in your juices. “you taste so good baby.” he said breathlessly. “like fucking candy.” you whimpered; he really couldn't hold himself back anymore , he lifted you back up , taking you right to his room , throwing you on to his bed. “gotta feel you around me.” he rid himself of his own clothes ,before joining you in the bed. “gonna stretch this pretty pussy with my fat cock baby.”

slotting himself in between your legs. “you want it baby?” he dragged his cock along your folds, his mushroom tip catching your clit , making you twitch with need. “pl-please jeno i need it.” you whimpered , whimper turning into a full blow moan as you felt his tip entering your needy hole. “ oh fuck princess.” he groaned as he fully bottomed out. “your tiny cunt is sucking me in.” he hissed.

“pl-please move.” you ran your fingers down his abs as he began to move. “f-faster.” he cursed , moving at your wishes. “fuck princess , your pussy is magic.” his cock dragging along your walls. “so-so big.” you moaned , “yeah princess , but you're taking me so well -fuck- so fucking well.”

you let out a pornographic moan as he began to plow into your , folding your legs , hitting a deeper angle. “fuck baby , you got tighter.” he growled in your ear. “you gonna cum?” you moaned. “you gonna cum all over my cock?” you nodded dumbly. “ye-yes.”

his cock twitching inside you; he groaned. “fuck I'm gonna cum , want me to cum inside you?” he moaned. “flood your tiny cunt with my cum?” you nodded. “please , please cum inside me.” his hand tangled up in your hair , bringing his mouth to your ears. “cum for me.”

you gasped cumming around him. “shit.” he cursed. “i'm gonna cum.” he growled. “gonna cum inside this pretty pussy.” was the last thing he said before you felt the warmth of his cum emptying inside you. “fuck.” he groaned , his cock slipping out of you. “you felt so good, princess.” he leaned in , kissing you. “so fucking good.”

“i was worried.” you said , your chin resting on his neck chest. “i told you not to , i know what im doing.” he said. “you're such an adrenaline junkie and haechan seemed to make you really upset, how was i supposed to know?” you pouted. “just learn to slow down sometimes okay?”

“i’ll learn to go slow if you keep coming to my races?” he said , you nodded. “fine.” he smiled. “you're so cute, you know that princess?” you smiled. “but you're not that innocent you know , you're a little adrenaline junkie too , i saw you in my mirror on the way here.” he flipped you over. “it's okay though baby.”

“your my little adrenaline junkie.”

©LUVYENI

[auroralwriting]

west coast finnick odair headcanons

part two can be found here!

finnick odair is definitely a west coast boy. maybe not cali born, but cali raised and a cali boy at heart.

finnick is a fabulous swimmer. he was definitely a high school swimmer turned casual swimmer-surfer

this boy would live in the ocean. you probably wouldn't be able to get him out even if you tried. he would pout like a puppy

"finn, it's getting late."

"but the sunset looks so pretty in the waves!!"

"it's getting cold."

"not if you stay in the water it's not."

would love the outdoors in general

hiking would probably be his main thing, but i could also see him biking too

insert cute hiking dates here!

would definitely have an instagram page just for his activities. pics of him surfing, hiking, sights he sees, he just can't help but stop and take a pretty picture

SANDALS. GALORE.

this man would have literally so many pairs of sandals. probably not flip flops since he would be so active, but he would definitely have a lot of sandals specifically birkenstocks, but also probably sketchers ones too

"finn, are you ready to go?"

"almost, just picking out my sandals!"

fifteen minutes later

"finn just pick the blue ones! you always pick them anyways."

marine biology major

living in cali, he would probably intern at an aquarium but not sea world. i think he would hate sea world for all their controversies

he would probably info dump about the sea and different sea creatures, especially if you were to encounter them in the wild

PROUD JEEP OWNER

he would have the nicest black jeep, always riding in the breeze, playing his music proudly

ice cream runs!

"babe! do you wanna stop and get ice cream?"

"uhm, duh."

everything in his life is coastal themed

no really. scented candles, hand soaps, cologne, decor, aesthetic

his walls are cream or blue, pillows white or blue, maaaybe if you lived with him he would throw some of your favorite colors in, too

bath and body works would hate to see finnick coming

he also would own probably around 5 tee shirts and just a few long sleeves and hoodies

its california he does not need it

however, early mornings and late nights can be cold, so i imagine him as a zip-up jacket wearer

he would definitely chew the tassles (or used to depending on if he could break the habit) and would looooove thumb holes

he'd also probably love you wearing his jackets more than he does

"are you cold?"

"no..?"

"you look cold."

"i promise i'm-- and you're taking off the jacket" **said with nothing but love

rosie would definitely be his dog in this universe too

i mean come on look at the picture above. you know finnick would be head over heels for that dog and would probably get her three different dog beds, a dozen toys, and several types of treats

probably clothes, too

i also feel like finnick would match his swim trunks to your bathing suit

pink? he doesn't care. flowers? hell yeah.

as long as he can look at someone and say, 'look! my girlfriend and i are matching!" it doesn't matter what pattern or color they are

he is a true, hardcore h2o and outer banks stan

HE WOULD TOTALLY MAKE YOU SEA JARS

also a very good seashell collector

he'd probably make you jewelry out of them through some diy youtube video

i feel the need to go on but this is becoming insanely too long please always remember me as west coast finnick girl okay bye for now! also this is so very inspired by @daisyjonesgf and one of her asks <3

[sulumuns-dootah]

Hello and can i ask if its okay for a request? If its okay, I read your ‘WHB Characters meeting their Obey me counterparts’ and got the idea…

What if the WHB Kings meeting Diavolo from Obey me?

Or WHB Angels & Angels from Obey me? (you can choose one or make a request or not, if you like)

Thank you in advance

WHB kings meeting prince Diavolo

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Hi! I actually wrote the Seraphims meeting their OM! version in the second part of OM! meeting WHB ^^ (Took me a while but I'm back, babey!)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Oh hey, this future king of Hell isn't as scary as Satan expected

Actually, he kinda reminds him of Mammon in a way

With the whole golden retriver energy

On the other hand, Diavolo is intruqued with Satan's biker persona

Don't tell Barbatos, but he might buy a bike too and ride it while Barbatos is busy with chores around the castle

       ༺☆༻

These two get along really well

I already mentioned that they're really similar so lemme talk about it a bit more

They both have their royal manners, but still try to reach out to their people from their privileged pedestal

Also, they don't take anything much seriously

Like you could spill a whole gallon of soup on them and they'll ask if you're okay and then laugh it all off

       ༺☆༻

I really hope that Diavolo doesn't have any expectations based on the brothers

Leviathans couldn't be the furthest from each other so I doubt Diavolo would be able to befriend Levi by cosplaying Ruri-chan for him

At first he'll be his cheery self, but after Levi responds in a luke-warm way, he'll pretty much shut himself off

Leviathan, being Leviathan, doesn't wanna have anything to do with some other king of Hell

Will even try to start a competition about whose Barbatos is the better servant (OM!Barbatos wins, sorry)

       ༺☆༻

Oh but these two will hit it off nicely

Chaos ensues

Might be the frist time where Diavolo has to be the one to stop shenanigans from spiralling out of control

Please do make sure that Beel doesn't find out about Diavolo's fear of pickled vegetables, or he might end up chasing him around the castle (like that video of that one woman who was terrified of olives)

       ༺☆༻

Given what happened with OM!Belphegor did, Diavolo is a bit vary while meeting Belphie

Though, his fears are pretty much calmed when he finds out that this guy can't go an hour or so without falling asleep

He really admires how Nifleheim manages to not descent into chaos and definitely wants to try and implement some of the rules in the Devildom

Belphegor didn't even realise that someone new was in the room

Will probably ask Beleth if he changed up his style and tell him that red is not his color and that he should just keep the suit he wears normally

       ༺☆༻

Okay, Diavolo is scared

Like geniunelly terrified

He will actually refuse to be around Asmo for an extended period of time

Just hearing all the stories about him is enough

And even if he didn't, the smell would speak for Asmo enough

On Asmo's end, you already know he'd be down (who wouldn't he be for tho?)

Depending on the look that Diavolo would be in, different things would turn him on about him

       ༺☆༻

Lucifer saddens him

To what extent are the kings and the brothers different? Do they carry similar mindsets and feelings? If so, he really needs to have a long conversation with OM!Lucifer

Lucifer, on the other hand, is finally happy to find out who tf the Diavolo guy is

For some reason he kept thinking about it after having met his OM! self who would constantly only talk about him

Lucifer likes him, overall ^^

[samcrosfaith]

LITTLE MUNCHKIN

Happy Lowman x fem!oc (Bobby's daughter)

summary; Nola finally gives birth to their baby and Happy realizes immediately that it doesn't matter that he isn't the biological father (Nola's abusive ex is). This is a chapter from one of my fanfics on Wattpad called DAYLIGHT in case you wanna check it out. Or maybe I'll even post it here if enough people would be interested! 🤎

warning; this is pure fluff and super soft Happy. 🥰

HAPPY CURSED UNDER HIS BREATH as the cars rushed past him while he stood on the side of the road. After feeling his phone vibrate, he immediately pulled over to call Bobby back, who then told him that the baby was hereᅳ and he was still two hours away from Charming.

He hadn't taken a single break in between, the eight hours on his bike were clearly wearing on his nerves, never knowing if he would make it in time. Even he knew that a birth can take anywhere from twenty minutes to over a day.

Part of him was glad that Nola didn't have to wait for him in pain any longer, but his guilty conscience was gnawing at him. He should've stayed in Charming, like his gut had told him. But Jax needed him, it wasn't like he had a choice.

With a frustrated grunt, he put his phone back in his pocket, slipped his sunglasses back on and mounted his bike to finally head to Charming. There was nothing he could do, all he could do was drive faster and try to avoid the traffic as best he could so he could finally see Nola and the baby.

Knowing that both of them were okay at least eased his worries a little and allowed him to breathe again, his muscles slowly relaxing on the road.

Still, he would've wanted to be there to see their little girl being born, to hear her first cry.

ᅳ

AFTER ONLY AN HOUR Happy was crossing the halls of St. Thomas, every step fast and heavy.  Nurses and other visitors silently got out of his way when they saw the grim expression on his face, although that was just Happy's faceᅳ probably his Kutte played a role too.

When he finally got from the white, depressing hallways to the more colorful one, which meant he was on the right ward, he finally felt some calm wash over him, a sense of relief. And yet he was nervous, nervous about what it would be like to finally see the little girl he and Nola had been waiting for.

How would he feel? Would he feel anything at all? For the first time, Happy felt anxious; afraid that he wouldn't be able to accept and love the little one like he had promised Nolaᅳ it was still Alden's child, as much as he hated to even think about it.

But he didn't have much time to sink further into the spiral of thoughts as Bobby slipped out of one of the rooms and ran a hand over his face and then down his beard. He looked exhausted, but also proud.

"How is she?", was Happy's first question, no hello, nothing, the worry and guilt chiseled into his hard features. "She's pissed? Or can I go in there without getting yelled at"

Bobby chuckled wearily, slapping Happy's shoulder. "No, not at all. She wanted you there, but she doesn't blame youᅳ Nola knew from the beginning that the club always comes first."

"Still, she shouldn't even think like that", the SAA grunted, annoyed with himself. Yes, the club came first, but his priorities had changed and he wanted Nola to know that. "Can I see them?"

"Sure. Nola just fell asleep, the little one's awake but quiet", Bobby told him, bracing his hands against his hips. "I was just going to get a bag for Nola, maybe not a bad idea if someone's there just in case the baby needs something."

"Okay, do that", Happy nodded, his hand already resting on the door handle as he turned back to Bobby one more time. "She look a lot like him?"

Bobby shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "Dark hair, yes. Otherwise she looks like Nola, as if she had stolen her mother's face."

Now it was Happy whose lips formed into a faint smile. "That's good."

And with that, he pushed the handle down and slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. As quietly as he could, he crossed the room until he stood next to the bed. With the smallest smile, he looked down at Nola, visibly proud of his Old Lady who looked absolutely beautiful and stunning despite having just pushed out a child.

He timidly brushed back a few blonde strands that had come loose from her low ponytail and bent down to kiss her hair, inhaling her scent before finally taking a look at the small cot on the other side of the bed, catching his first glimpse of the baby.

His pulse was racing with excitement and anticipation as he walked around the bed and rested both his hands on the top railing of the cot. His lungs hitched and he had to swallow hard when he saw the little bundle, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, the baby noises filling his chest with love and pride.

He had never felt so much pride as he did in that moment.

"Hey Munchkin", he murmured, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. "Nice to finally see you."

As the baby looked up at him with curious eyes, opening and closing her tiny fists, a yawn slipped past her lips before she began to fuss, probably just because she wanted to be held.

And that was exactly what Happy did. With care, as if she were made of porcelain, he slid one of his large hands under her tiny head full of dark hair, the other under her back and then scooped her into his arm. Rocking her gently and never once taking his eyes off her, he sat down on the chair that stood against the wall and sighed contentedly.

No one would be able to wipe that proud smile off his face as he looked down at her and rubbed the side of his index finger across her tiny cheek, listening to the soft sounds the girl made as a tiny hand reached for his hand, her grip on his finger tighter than he expected.

Happy swallowed hard, tears of pride burning in his eyes as a storm of emotions brewed inside him. Most of them were positive, mostly pride, unconditional love and joy. But also fear and anger, anger at the man who was lucky enough to be her father.

But the longer Happy looked at the bundle, he knew that the little girl in his arms belonged to him, that it didn't matter who her biological father was. She was his, his little girl that he would, just like her mother, protect with his life.

"What's your name anyway, huh?" Then Happy realized that he had completely forgotten to ask Bobby about the baby's name.

Excitement rushed through his chest as he spotted the pink plastic wrist band around the girl's wrist and scanned it for the name. A big lump formed in his throat as he read the name Nola had chosen for the girlᅳ the name he had suggested two weeks ago when they were sitting in bed eating pizza while brainstorming a name for the little one.

Ruby Elle Munson.

Ruby had been the name that he had come up with, the first one that popped into his mind that he had really liked. And Elle was Nola's mom's name. They both sounded great together in his opinion but it was the fact that Nola chose the name Ruby that really did something to him, coating his eyes again with a layer of unshed tears. Which of course he immediately wiped away with the back of his hand before they could fall.

"So Ruby, huh?", he asked, his voice thick with emotion. "Fits you perfectly, Munchkin."

Happy chuckled at the soft hiccup sounds he got in response, running his large hand over her tiny head, still fascinated by how much hair such a small creature could have.

"You're hungry? But we'll have to wait until your mom wakes up, I think", he croaked down at Ruby, not sure if Nola had chosen to bottle- or breastfed.

"You can feed her if you want, I chose to bottle feed her after the nurse said I didn't have enough milk", Nola explained, her voice still tinged with sleep as she slowly sat up, the happiest smile on her still slightly exhausted looking, pale face. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Happy's head shot up, the man had been too distracted to notice that Nola had woken up. Slowly he stood up, closing the little distance to the bed before settling down on the mattress.

"She's perfect, more than perfect." He placed a hand against Nola's cheek, literally staring at her sincerely after pressing a gentle kiss against her lips. "I'm sorry I wasn't here, babyᅳ you know I would've loved to be there."

"Hey, it's okay", she reassured him with a coo, sliding a little closer to him with a soft groan, which immediately made Happy look up with concern in his dark eyes. "I'm fine, don't worryᅳ just still a little sore", she assured him with a soft hum. "Thanks for coming right away, baby."

"Our daughter was just born, of course I was coming right away, Nola", the SAA grunted deadpanned, slipping his arm behind her back to pull her into his side. "I want you to know that you and Ruby come first, you hear me?"

"Our daughterᅳI like the sound of that", the blonde hummed happily, looking up at Happy with her bright blue eyes, his words meaning more to her than he could ever imagine. "But what about the club? I know how importantᅳ"

Happy quickly cut her off with a kiss he stole from her lips. "I love my club, and yes, I'm always available if they need meᅳ but you and Ruby come first, my priorities have changed, little girl."

As it should be. That didn't mean he wouldn't be there for his club anymore, he would always be there when they needed him. That's what he had signed up for when he joined decades agoᅳ but he had his own little family now and he knew everyone would understand. Not to sound rude, but he didn't want to be like Jax who only saw his sons a few times a week for a few hours because he couldn't find the time otherwise, or like the others who spent their time at the club instead of at home.

He would be there for his Old Lady and their child, not wanting to miss anything Ruby would learn even if that would still take a while. Also, Nola wasn't his maid, he'd make sure to help her around the house enough so she would have the time to just sit down, relax and cuddle with their baby.

"I love you, Lowman", Nola whispered sincerely, biting back a small sob, feelings and hormones still all over the place. "I hope you know thatᅳ and I appreciate everything you do for us."

Happy grunted with a slight nod, placing another kiss on the top of Nola's head as her arm slipped around his waist while she ran her free hand over Ruby's head. "I love you too, little girl, both of you."

"I can tell that she already feels comfortable with you." With a smile, Nola lifted her gaze, kissing the corner of Happy's mouth. "She's completely relaxed in your arms, no fussing and nothing. I know we said we'd see how things would go", Nola paused briefly, nervously chewing on her lower lip. "But in my eyes, you are already her dad, Hap. She belongs to you as much as she does to me."

Nola would probably never know how much her words really meant to Happy. For a moment he was even too emotionally moved to just stare at her and swallow hard instead of answering.

After a long moment of silence, he squeezed her arm, his gaze wandering from her to Ruby. "I know she's mine, it just feels right."

"So..does that mean that you'd like to take on the role of her dad right away?" Nola lovingly nudged his arm with her shoulder, smiling proudly. "She's going to be a daddy's girl, I just know it."

Happy chuckled, nodding his head slightly. "I hope so, she's already got me wrapped around her little finger."

"Mhm..me too, apparently that's already her first talent", Nola replied with a broad grin before she snuggled back into his side and exhaled contentedly.

And Happy enjoyed the moment to the fullest, both of his girls in his arms. That's what it felt to be rich. No amount of money in the world could replace this.

[jelly-rei]

Birthday girl

Johnny Davis x Reader

Summary: You’re wearing an outfit that Johnny told you not to. But it’s your birthday and you want and get to feel cute, so of course you say fuck it and wear whatever the fuck you want.

A/n: This is kinda…self indulgent…? I wrote it for my birthday but of course everyone can enjoy it! 😂💕

Content includes: Semi-public making out (Depends on how you see it honestly)

Johnny came out of the convenience store with a pack of Marlboro reds. He draws one out with his lips, his calloused fingers digging into his pockets for a metal lighter. He takes another out, and sticked it in between your lips. You jutted your chin out and he lit it for you.

You leaned back against his bike, the seat warm against the back of your thighs. You could feel his eyes on you. You tried so hard to pretend not to notice.

You were wearing an outfit that he had explicitly stated not to wear. Short and tight. He never really had a problem with your choice of clothes, understanding that you were young and wanted to dress up. But today’s outfit was admittedly a little much. You were wearing mini Jean shorts that barely covered your ass and a top that showed your belly each time you raised your arms.

But it was your birthday so you decided that you’d wear whatever the fuck you want.

Johnny took a long drag, exhaling slowly as he side-eyed your legs. “Told you not to wear anything short and tight,” he muttered. “Cuz if you fall, first thing that’s gonna get scarred is that ass of yers.”

You rolled your eyes, even though he was right. “I’ll be fine Johnny” You reassured, but you were already tugging at the hem of your shorts.

“You always wanna them fuckin mini skirts or crop tops or whatever and one of these days your ass and tits are gonna be scraped off when I get in an accident” He grumbles.

You giggled, tossing your cigarette to the ground, grinding it out under your boot. You strutted over to him, letting your hips sway, making his jaw tighten. You placed your hands on his chest, fingers running over the warm leather that stretched across his muscle.

He moved the cigarette away from your face, eyes boring down on you as you bat your eyelash at him playfully.

“What’d you want now, girl?”

You pressed into him, your chest flush against his. You could feel the heat of his skin through your top, smell the mix of smoke, and sweat. Your lips brushed against his throat when you spoke,

“Why do you have an issue with my outfit Johnny?”

“You don’t love me or something?” You asked.

Johnny let out a low sigh, “Dumbass question from a dumbass girl. I love you too much, that’s why girl. I think I told you millions of times that you need to cover up when riding with me”

You pulled him closer, and pressed your chest against his. “Alright, alright I get it. I’m sorry Johnny. I promise I’ll wear proper next time. But it’s just that…today’s my birthday. Wont you let this go for now?” You plead, feigning innocence.

You knew his response would probably be a grumpy and hesitant “Whatever” or if he was in a particularly bad mood then a mean old “no”.

But you also knew how to coax your man and sweeten him up a little.

“Fine…I guess if you’re still mad at my outfit…you can take if off of me.”

The cigarette never made it to his lips. He stared at you like you’d just offered your soul to be fucked into damnation. Which you did. He smirked, full of trouble in one little tug of a lip.

“You wanna do it here, out in the open where everyone can fuckin see what’s only mine to see and touch?” He whispered against your ears, pressing up against your chest.

You bit your bottom lip to hide the cheeky smile that challenged to escape. “I mean if you’re still that mad at me. I don’t see what’s stopping you”.

Your lips parted slightly, your eyes never left his as you slowly unzipped his jacket. Then your hands slowly snaked down, resting over the hard line of his jeans. You palmed his bulge through the thick denim feeling it twitch with every stroke.

“Careful girl,” he groaned as his head fell back slightly.

“People might see.”

“With you? I hope they fucking catch us, want them to see who I belong to. Proud to show you off.”

He growled before he pulled you in and devouring your mouth. He crashed his lips onto yours, his hands grabbed the soft flesh of your ass, and kneaded it desperately to feel every inch of you. You could feel his tongue slid in slowly, and moaned into the kiss as his fingers slipped under your top, teasing your chest in slow and teasing circles. His fingers rough against the sensitive swell of it.

Your moan vibrated against his mouth as his tongue plunged deeper to taste and own you. His hips pressed forward, grinding his thick hard on against you, making you feel the throb of his need.

He cupped the back of your head with one large hand, steadying you against the vibrations of his bike. The metal beneath you burned hot from the sun, but it was nothing compared to the heat between your legs.

“F-fuck…Johnny…need you now” You begged breathlessly.

He pulled back just enough to speak, eyes glassy with lust, lips slick with your kiss. “You keep beggin like that, I’ll fuck you raw right here, birthday girl. Don’t tempt me.”

You whimpered as he licked the smeared lipstick from the corner of his mouth. He grunted as he tossed the spare helmet towards your direction. You blinked at him, looking at him all dazed and confused.

“Cmon, Put it on fast before I fuck you stupid in this parking lot.”

“Was gonna take you to dinner, but fuck that. I’m givin you your birthday present at home.” He swung a leg over the bike and revved the engine.

“You’ll be walkin funny when the party’s over tomorrow. That’s my kinda celebration.”

Best birthday ever? It sure was going to be.

No pressure tag: @followsfrankiep @vivianleighwishesshewasme @feveredvisions @potter-solomons @zablife @bewitchedcryptic

[obito-in-disguise]

| Simpler times I

Yuji's Skateboard

Life was peaceful these days, after Sukuna’s defeat. Yuji often found himself with too much free time, Which explained why he was currently elbow-deep in a dusty box labeled old stuff in the garage.

His fingers brushed against something solid and familiar, the worn-down maple wood of his old skateboard, and his breath caught in his throat.

He’d recognize that feeling anywhere.

A bit more probing and he found the wheels. It was definitely his skateboard.

Carefully, he pulled it out. The board was scuffed, sun-bleached, and a little rough around the edges, but it was more than just a forgotten relic, it was a time capsule. A symbol of who he used to be, back when things were simpler… or at least, when the chaos felt survivable.

Back when he hadn't lost those he loved, when every day brought a new fight and somehow, hope. Part of him longed for the chaos of those simpler times.

Maybe that’s why he found himself setting the board on the pavement, stepping onto it in a sort of daze.

It creaked under his weight, but it was still good. He was a little rusty, but like riding a bike, you never really forget.

He shut his eyes, letting the familiar sound of wheels against concrete and the wind in his hair pull him back in time. The setting sun cast long shadows, and the first stars began to twinkle, adding to the stillness of the moment.

He must’ve been at it for almost an hour, lost in thought, because he didn’t hear you come in.

Unlike Yuji, you didn’t mind the quiet. No King of Curses, no crazed body-swappers, it meant peace of mind and It meant Yuji would come home in one piece.

You noticed the sound before you saw him, that familiar rhythm of wheels skating across pavement. For a second, it didn’t register. Then it clicked.

You paused at the doorway, jacket still in hand, and tilted your head toward the noise coming from the backyard.

A skateboard?

You stepped outside, curious.

And there he was.

Yuji. On a skateboard. In the pale golden light of the late evening, he looked like an old memory come to life, boyish, free, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. His shoulders relaxed in a way they hadn’t been in years.

You took a seat on the cold steps, ignoring the chill of the concrete. “Didn’t know you could skate Yu" you called out, voice light. “Not bad.”

The sound of your voice nearly sends him of the board in fright, how long had you been there?

He walks over and plops down beside you, the board resting between your legs. His breath came a little quicker from the motion, but his smile hadn’t faded.

“I used to be good" he admitted. “Skated all the time as a kid. Kinda forgot how much I missed it.”

A piece of lint on his pants catch your attention and you flick it off, fingers curiously nudging the edge of the board. “Think you could teach me?”

Yuji looked up sharply, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You serious?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Why not? Looks fun.”

He barks out a laugh, already picturing you wobbling like a newborn deer. “Sure, baby. But why do you wanna learn?”

At the sound of his malicious laughter, your eyes narrow. You knew he was laughing at you, even before you got on the damn thing. Still, you let it go. “It'll be fun”

He grinned, clearly entertained, and stood up, reaching for your hand to tug you up too.

“Fair enough. Let’s have some fun with it.”

You let him pull you up, and he immediately pulled you into a loose hug, his arms draped lazily around your shoulders.

“Alright, love. First things first, you gotta learn how to stand on it.”

You immediately stepped forward, eager to hop on. If he didn’t stop you, you’d have probably ended up with a bruised tailbone.

But before you could move further, he scooped you up gently by the waist and plopped you safely down beside the board.

“Hey, easy there. You’re not gonna learn anything if you break your ass on the first try.”

You chuckle, he had a habit of hauling you around like a potato sack “I can handle a skateboard”

“Trust me nugget” he said with a smirk, crossing his arms. “You’re not just gonna hop on and magically shred. It takes practice.”

You can't stop your eyes from rolling, he was so full of himself. "Then teach me already"

You were enthusiastic, he'd give you that, so he stepped behind you, guiding your body into position by your hips, gently fitting you between his legs. His chest rested lightly against your back, his chin near your shoulder. “Okay, now, feet apart, knees a little bent... Just like that.”

You followed his instructions, brows drawn together in intense concentration, it was cute and he stifled a laugh. “Don’t overthink it, doll. Just find your balance.”

You gripped his hands instinctively as the board shifted beneath you. The second it rolled, your heart leapt, and your feet left the board just as fast.

Yuji caught you easily, arms tightening as you nearly indeed almost landed on your ass and broke it. “Got you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “That thing’s trying to kill me.”

“Hardly” he says with a grin. “You just panicked.”

“I did not panic" you insisted, gripping his hands tighter in embarrassment.

He reaches around you, tapping your forehead lightly. “Sure, sure. Let’s try again.”

You nodded, more determined this time. He guided you once more, thumbs pressing gentle reassurance into your sides. and you managed to stay upright for a solid three seconds before wobbling again.

Again, he was there, catching you like it was second nature.

“You’ve got a knack for falling into my arms" he murmured.

“Maybe I just trust you’ll always catch me.”

That made him pause. Then, softer, “I will.”

Your next attempt went much smoother. Your legs stopped trembling quite so much and you stayed steady longer. He let go slowly, hovering just a breath away, hands twitching, ready to catch you if you slipped.

“You’re doing great, baby. Just take it slow.”

You focused on his voice, the steadiness of it. Pushed off gently.

The board rolled forward but alas, a crack in the pavement sent it jerking sideways, and you yelped. Yuji, immediately lunges forward, catching before you could take the nasty fall. "Christ!"

You clutched him tightly, heart racing. “Okay that one was not my fault.”

“Nope" he said easily, holding you close. “That one’s on the sidewalk. But you did good for your first try nugget.”

You grinned, brushing off the fall and him. “It won’t get me next time” you declared, eyes bright with determination as you stepped back onto the board.

Before you could even shift your weight, Yuji’s arms were around you, lifting you and slinging you effortlessly over his shoulder with a laugh that was part amusement, part protectiveness.

“Alright, that’s enough skating for today, doll” he said softly, with a pat to your butt as he carried you toward the house. "I kinda like having you around in one piece.”

You really want to keep skating but he was right, it was only a matter of time before you face planted.

“Okay, okay, you win,” you whispered back, curling closer as he sets you down inside, you would prove you were the ultimate skating rookie another day.

It's been a long time since I wrote a full time fic, I got used to snippets and almost forgot how good it felt to lose yourself in a plot. Enjoy!

feel free to check out my other jjk fics and more of my work.

Tiny taglist: @catlover19282

[chaos-chloe]

Podcast moments - Pezzy version

Summary: Three-time you were mentioned, or You were a surprise guest for a moment in the Clooless Podcast, clip inspired

TW: Nurse!reader (retired), cute moments, kisses, cursing, medical advice/EpiPen, reckless driving, and etc

“I feel like that put a lot of pressure on you.” Droid pointing at Pezzy and his tendencies while riding their motorcycles.

“You’ve become quite the mama bird, when it comes to me driving.” Droid continued as he was playing with his shoes.

“Well yeah,- well now- I don’t know- because.” Pezzy stammers through his reasoning, as he was waving his hand around.

“I find it so funny, cause isn't _ really the mama bird with you?” Grizzy interjects their conversation.

“I’ve realized like when I was driving a bike; I had _ and other people were worried about me before. Like where they are like, “ooo let me know when you get to certain places” blah blah blah. And i'm like ‘yeah i'll let you know.” Pezzy reasoned as he was adjusting his hair like always.

“And I never experienced a friend riding a motorcycle. Now that you're riding it, I'm like checking behind me, when _ is not riding with us, I’m like ‘IS HE DEAD?!!?’” Pezzy laughed as he was getting himself comfortable again on the couch.

“I'm always checking to see if you are still good.” Pezzy ends his spiel.

“But __ is the biggest mama bird when it comes to new riders, she will always adopt baby riders.” Droid says keeping the topic still alive of bikes.

“I swear her phone is always blowing up because she is in so many biker support groups.” Puffer pipes in as he experiences that while hanging out with the group.

“She is the best type of person to protect baby drivers, she went off on someone for trying to cut me off on the highway.” Droid says, “It was fucking bad ass, but damn she’s scary when shes in mama bear mode.” Droid laughs while everyone joins in with him.

“Dude you should have seen her race after someone when they did something stupid to Pezzy as we were all driving together. Like she was like the ghost rider after them.” Grizzy says as he was trying to remember what happened.

“She is great but god damn she has her reckless moments too, like any motorcycle driver.” Pezzy shakes his head as he is trying to calm down from laughing.

“Hold on, Yumi is calling me.” Puffer said while looking at his phone.

“Is that Tuah?” Droid questioned, while looking over at Pezzy. “I thought it was a sponsor.” Pezzy laughed

“You know what? Pick it up! Pick it up!” Grizzy taunted Puffer

“It's probably about the football game.” Puffer says while he is thinking about why Yumi would be calling him.

“This is-Oh!” Pezzy got caught by Droid; “It’ll be over by the time it comes out.”.

“Pateron content if it is good.” Pezzy said hastily as Puffer picked up the phone. “Hey man, what's up?”

“Nahh speaker, nah” Grizzy said as Puffer put his phone up to his ear.

“Damn all like the whole demeanor just changed.” Droid comments

“Uhh-um were doing a podcast.” Puffer says as Pezzy laughed at his awkwardness, Puffer held his fingers to his other ear so he could understand Yumi better.

“All I heard was, you wanna be on the podcast? Real quick hold on, here.” Puffer put his phone on speaker phone.

“Welcome to Talk Tuah.” Droid said in a serious tone but was joking. “Hey Yumi.” Puffer cuts Droid off.

“Hey wait, Pezzy’s there right?” Yumi asked

“Yeah I'm here Yumi, what up?” Pezzy answered his question with a question back.

“Where’s {Nickname that only yumi can use}?” Yumi asked

“Uh should be hanging out with Meghan, let me go get her.” Pezzy said while getting up and readjusting himself as he was walking to the door.

“Hey babe, Yumi called Puffer is looking for you!” Pezzy yelled out into Puffer’s house.

“Yum Yum!” Is all he heard as being yelled back and your feet running on Puffers hardwood floors.

“Ohp- she's running now, yumi” Puffer said as everyone was laughing cause they heard your footsteps.

“Ugh- i'm never running again for you, but YUM YUM!” _ complains as she is out of breath but greets Yumi. “Eh {nickname} did you see the game and that play that just happened?” Yumi asks as casually as he could after interrupting the Clooless Podcast.

“Omg no!-""Alright, Alright, Yumi, did you have something to say to the podcast?” Puffer cuts __ off from responding to Yumi. Grizzy started a full belly laugh, as Droid did a small chuckle as if he was being tickled by a feather.

“Oh! This is my message to the world.” Yumi started off with a small laugh.

“Oh no!” “Where is this going?” Droid and Grizzy responded with their own jest.

“It sounds like the Joker.” Droid kept going with his goofiness.

“Yeah?” “How y'all- How y’all doing?” Yumi had a brain fart.

“That's your message?” The Clooless gang all responded back.

“Hey i'm doing alright Yum Yum, but imma go back to filming tiktoks with meghan.” __ says while exiting the room but not before giving Pezzy a quick peck on the lips and a simple ‘I love you’ .

ACHOO

“God damn!” Puffer exclaimed to Grizzy, sneezing up a storm (it was one sneeze).

“Brother, I'm trying to survive out here.” Grizzy said while rubbing his face due to his allergies

“I know. Bro can not be around Brodie.” Puffer said as he was thinking of ways to keep Brodie away from Grizzy.

“We might need a medic team on standby.” ElasticDroid joke but it was taken slightly serious.

“Hahah, imagine episode 25–” Grizzy faked being dead in his chair all slumped over, his head slinging to the left side

“We put a bunch of Epipens on this desk, wait table.” Pezzy jokes

“You know how to use it right?” ElasticDroid asked as Grizzy faked gasping, coming back to life.

“No I don't but _ is a retired ER nurse, OMG she can be our medical team.” Pezzy said while slapping his knee, dying of laughter.

Droid started patting his heart, acting out that's where you put the Epipen to inject it.

“No, it's in the leg” Pezzy disagreed with Droid.

“It's not in the heart.” Grizzy deadpanned shaking his head in disbelief

“This dude is trying to kill somebody.” Pezzy popped off as he was looking at Grizzy

“Ooo _, get her in here real quick.” Droid says

“Babe, come here real quick!” Pezzy yelled

“Huh? What am I here?” __ said walking into the podcast room.

“Quick question, where and how do I use an Epipen?” Droid asked with full seriousness.

“Well, do you want me to explain it how I am supposed to explain it or a sweet and short explanation?” _ questioned back with professionalism.

“Sweet and short.” Puffer said not wanting to waste _’s time.

“Goes into the mid-outer-thigh, the orange tip pointing down and the blue end facing up. Do not put any part of your hand over either end or just come get me to do it. Then call 911 or go to the ER yourself.” _ wrapped it up.

“Oh damn, oh well I was wrong, thank you __ and comments say thank you as well.” Droid said owning up to his stupidity while pointing to the camera.

[sharksnshakes]

New Perspective- Leon Kennedy

After losing a bet with friend and fellow DSO agent Leon Kennedy, he takes you for a ride on his motorcycle. Unforeseen consequences include windburn, watery eyes, and maybe developing a crush on him. Maybe.

AN; so i'm back with another installation of bestie leon wanting to be more than besties. you can read as a continuation of this one, anyways post-re2 leon is still on the brain and likely will be forever

Wordcount; 1.1k

TW; mentions of a potential motorcycle crash, mildly suggestive

Never again are you making a bet with Leon Kennedy.

"What were the terms again? Five minutes?" He asks, a shit eating grin on his face.

You speak through gritted teeth. "Yeah. Five."

Leon's grin widens.

"Shut up," you say halfheartedly, warily glancing down at the motorcycle you're both perched on.

"Didn't say anything, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes and zip your jacket up.

You're not sure how Leon's bike is supposed to safely carry you at all, let alone through busy downtown streets, without throwing one of you off or blowing up or spinning out of control or something. Suffice to say, you're not a fan of motorcycles--Leon knew that when you'd made the bet, and you'd only agreed because you'd been so certain that you'd win. Why else risk life and limb on the back of his Ducati?

That was the thing about Leon Kennedy and bets, though, because you've come to realize that he's got a way of winning regardless of how the odds are stacked. It's great for field work, but it's also a massive pain in your ass, because (news flash) you lost and now you'll have to endure a five minute ride on his death trap of a motorcycle.

"Let's get it over with," you sigh, looping your arms around his waist. The engine purrs beneath you, sending a shudder through your body.

"Y'know," he muses, and you can hear the grin in his voice, "I bet I could do a wheelie."

You laugh, you hope he doesn't feel the slight tremble in your hands, you hope he can't hear the nervous twinge to your voice. "Absolutely fucking not."

He drives slowly through the parking garage. Most DSO staff have already left for the night, and it's probably better that way, because the last thing the two of you need is for a hotshot supervisor to call you out on your antics. Meaning Hunnigan. Because if Hunnigan saw that neither of you were working on the literal mounds of paperwork gracing your desks, she'd probably hit you with a Jeep.

"Might wanna hold on tighter than that," Leon says offhandedly, revving the engine as you approach the street entrance.

"I'm not your backpack, Kennedy."

He chuckles. "Didn't think you'd know the lingo."

"You know that nobody says 'lingo' anymore, right? This is why Claire says you sound like an old man."

"Well, suit yourself," he shrugs, and suddenly you're rocketing into traffic.

You curse violently, digging your fingers into Leon's sides hard enough to bruise. You swear you feel him laughing, but you can't hear a damn thing over the engine and you're more focused on not falling into oncoming traffic.

"Fuck you, Kennedy," you mumble against his leather jacket, your eyes tightly shut.

The agent banks around a turn and you just barely hold back another string of curses. As his body shifts in the seat, you can feel the muscles in his sides stretch and shift and move beneath your fingers, and, wow, he's built, and now your cheeks are pricking with heat. You try not to think about it.

"You okay back there?" Leon calls, bringing the bike to a slow stop at a red light.

"Haven't decided yet?"

"Well, lucky for you, we're at-" he stops, glancing quickly at his watch. "-The two minute mark. Only three to go."

"Technically," you say, peeling yourself off of his back, "It's already been five, if you factor in the drive from the parking garage. So I say we head back."

He casts a glance over his shoulder at you, a smile playing across his lips. "That wasn't the deal, sweetheart."

"Would you quit with the 'sweetheart'?"

"You'd prefer 'backpack', then?"

"I'd prefer nothing, actually," you tease back, even though a tiny voice in your head riots at the thought. This banter with Leon is nothing new. You go back and forth like this in the office, on jobs, whenever, but perched on the back of Leon's bike has you feeling like you've crossed a line with the teasing somehow, like maybe he's actually flirting with you and maybe you're not actually minding it.

"Yeah, well..." The light changes to green. "Nevermind. Hang on, yeah?"

This time, you're feeling brave enough to divert some of your attention from clinging to Leon like your life depends on it, and instead you glance to the sides and take in the bustling downtown scene around you.

The sun's just barely set, casting a dusky haze over the streets. Pedestrians clog the sidewalk, passing through pools of golden lamp-post light; some duck into stores, some leave their apartments, some walk their dogs. You pass a restaurant with outdoor seating, a bookstore, a bank, and you've seen all of these places before on your daily commute, but the back of Leon's motorcycle is affording you a new perspective.

You turn your head to look at the other side of the street and catch a waft of Leon's cologne in the process. It's faint, but distinctly him. It's enough to bring the tiny voice in the back of your head to center stage, where it drenches the situation in rosy colors and 'what if's and 'sweethearts', grabbing you by the shoulders and practically injecting fantasized scenarios into your head. Everything from grocery shopping to painting your living room to getting in bed--

Oh, fuck, are you being a creep?

"Just another minute!" Leon shouts.

You nod against his back and swallow with a dry mouth. Your cheeks are flushed, you can feel it, and you hope you'll be able to play it off as windburn. The last minute of your ride is spent not unlike the first: with eyes slammed shut, ignoring Leon's heartbeat at your chest and ignoring the way your own heart whispers that there's more to be had here than just a friendship.

When Leon finally parks the bike in the garage and cuts the engine, your chest unclenches. Your five minutes are over and you are never getting on a motorcycle again.

The blond helps you off, looking far too amused.

"So, sweetheart... you liked the ride, yeah?" He raises his brows at you suggestively, but it's so exaggerated that you're positive he's just doing this on purpose.

You still nearly choke on your spit.

All the way back to the office, the two of you go back and forth over whether the Ducati's evil and dangerous and a horrible investment. He's laughing, insisting it isn't necessarily deadly, and you keep laughing incredulously and saying that's not a strong argument. Things feel normal again, and you've effectively written off the tiny voice in the back of your head as a bizarre, anxiety-induced response to your first and last ride on a motorcycle.

But his hand lingers on your shoulder for a little too long when you say you're heading out for the night, and after the rapid-fire scenarios that flashed through your head on that goddamned bike, you're not so sure you got rid of that tiny voice after all.

[onyx-brimmstone]

Unfinished Ren Comfort Fic

Word Count: 1,259 Warnings: Idek lmao

Btw, this was written MONTHS ago, back in February, then I lost motivation to write it :3

Opening: Angel getting to work? - Angel is definitely traumatized from their previous partner - Ren knows? Got rid of them, but they’d already done quite a bit of damage to Angel -Angel’s parents are unaware of the abuse

“Angel? Did you still wanna go w’me to the store later?” Ren was still on his bike, helmet resting on the gas tank as he watched the person of his dreams, his desires, his obsessions.

“Huh..? Oh- yeah, of course! What’re we havin for dinner again?” They’d been spacing out more than usual, struggling to stay focused on things, responding slower. It was obvious they were struggling but they wouldn’t tell anyone what was wrong, not even Moth knew. “I gotta go clock in.. I’ll see you later..”

Ren watched as his Angel went into the library, he waited awhile before putting his helmet back on. He’d probably stick around the area while he waited for them to get done with work, maybe bring them a snack or coffee later on.

They did their work on auto pilot, Elanor would catch them just staring off into space, she was worried for her colleague. Conan pulled them aside at some point, asking if they were alright, though seeing their thousand yard stare he ultimately decided to have them leave work early. They called Ren, who of course picked up on the first ring, he usually did.

“Ren..? Uh.. could you come pick me up? I left work early..” They were quieter than usual as they spoke, pacing the sidewalk slowly, picking at a scab on their collarbone.

“Of course Angel, I’ll be there in a few minutes.. But are you okay?” He’d been right around the corner, sitting at a cafe while he played some random mobile games. While he got up and went to his bike they responded, a quiet ‘yes’ was all they could muster before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. They paced around slowly, still picking at the scab on their collarbone, though the actual scab was long gone, small specks of blood had beaded in the most center part of the small wound.

It didn’t take Ren longer than a couple minutes to get to the library, he called out to Angel but they didn’t notice for a moment, lost in thought until he called for them again. Once they registered who it was they walked over and put their helmet on, Ren adjusting the straps as usual before they got onto the motorcycle. He wouldn’t go until he was sure Angel was feeling secure on the bike.

Ren was keeping an eye on Angel as they walked through the store together, noting how quiet and withdrawn they were, it was so unlike them. His heart ached, wanting to help them, make them smile again.. They continued through the store just as quiet, it’d been nearly two years since they left, two years since they realized they couldn’t stay. It was terrifying to leave, they’d been on edge the whole time, only taking the most important things.

God.. how had it already been two years? What had they even been doing..? They couldn’t remember a lot of it, so many things had happened, and they’d reunited with some friends- met new ones.. They’d met Ren.. he was so sweet, definitely a change of pace.. They didn’t even realize they’d gotten done with the store and gone back to Ren’s apartment, which truthfully had basically become theirs too, given how much time they’d been spending there. They watched as Ren went to the kitchen, putting groceries away.. What had he said before? Something about food.. Dinner? Was he making dinner? They went to the kitchen, wanting to help, they should help with dinner.. Right?

“Angel? Did you need something?” He watched them, they were clearly spaced out as they shook their head and grabbed a pan out to cook up what they were gonna have for dinner.. What were they having?

“What.. what are we having for dinner again..? I.. I can’t remember.. I’m sorry..” They felt guilt wash over them, how could they forget something so simple? Ren sighed a bit and stepped towards Angel, though they flinched back a bit, they hadn’t done that for awhile.

“Angel- it’s okay.. I’m not gonna do anythin t’you.. We haven’t decided on dinner yet..” He offered a hand, hoping they’d take it, hoping they’d confide in him their worries and troubles. His hopes were short lived though as they gave a reassuring smile.

“Right- so.. How about uh..” They looked at the groceries, thinking, racking their brain for ideas on dinner. They couldn’t think, memories and emotions clouding their head, it’d been so sudden to them that they felt this way, but it’s been building for weeks, they just didn’t notice. Ren did though, he saw the way they began to jump at small sounds, look over their shoulder in public, the way they began walking around quieter, closing the doors as quietly as possible. He was trying to help them but it wasn’t really doing much, and somehow he knew pushing it would make it worse, perhaps it was from all the stalking he did, but who knows?

“I uh- I-I gotta use the bathroom- I’ll be back-” They stepped back before turning on their heel and going to the bathroom, vision beginning to blur as they went, tears welling in their eyes while they closed the door. They didn’t even bother with the lights, it was dark, and the dark was safer. They slid down the wall, head in their hands as they began breathing faster, though everything else felt slow, they could hear their heart pounding in their head as their ears rang. They clutched their shirt, trying to catch their breath, though it seemed like an impossible task. Their lungs wouldn’t fill, they kept trying, breathing faster as tears began falling. The seconds felt like hours, their muscles hurt, and their chest strung as their nails dug into it through their shirt. Words echoed in their ears, screams of anger, the sounds of dishes being thrown and broken. They clamped their hand over their mouth, muffling whatever noises they’d been making, fear ripping through them like a wolf killing it’s prey. How long had they been in the bathroom? They had no clue, but they couldn’t move, no matter how hard they’d try, they couldn’t move.

Eventually though, there was a small knock at the door, and their eyes snapped to it, their heart beat faster, and they tried to stay quiet, they couldn’t be heard.. Right? They scooted away from the door, they were tempted to go under the sink, though it was close to the door.. It was the safest thing for now. It didn’t take long for the door to slowly open, Ren peeking into the dark room, trying to figure out where they were.

“Angel..? What’s going on..? Are you okay?” He stepped in, looking around before looking under the sink, his eyes were soft, though it was hard to see with the limited light level. They were frozen, tears rolling down their cheeks, hand clamped over their mouth. Ren slowly reached for them, and they flinched away, turning their head away as if bracing for impact.

“Oh- Angel.. I- I won’t hurt you- I just wanna help..” He spoke slower, not squishing his words together, he didn’t want to startle them. It took awhile of just sitting quietly in the dark before they moved, they very slowly looked at Ren,

[lovekz]

dumb dick!

syn -> taiju’s bike isn’t the only thing you wanna ride of his.

warnings : smut, rough sex, p in v, oral (male receiving), squirting, use of the nickname mama and baby, overstimulation, taiju has a big dick, creampie

-

you stood inside of the fast food restaurant, waiting on you and yuzuha’s order.

the two of you decided you should have a sleepover to catch up with each other, as college work has been keeping you two apart.

however, you don’t think this was a great idea anymore, because nothing was going right.

your car had broke down so you had to take the bus, and you were stranded.

the walk to the shiba’s house would take pretty long and you don’t want the food to get cold.

taking the bus wouldn’t shorten the time either.

not to mention your horrible experiences with ubers and lyft.

so you called yuzuha and asked if she could pick you up.

“sorry babe, I can’t. I gave hakkai my car so he could take it to his friend to get it fixed.” yuzuha frowned, feeling bad.

she had the same problem as you, but hers had broke down only after she got home.

you cursed quietly, contemplating on what you should do.

you could risk it and get a uber (and possibly have to stay on the phone the entire time and drain your phone's battery) or risk your legs and walk.

neither sounded ideal.

“i can pick her up?” you hear a voice in the background catch your attention.

it isn’t a voice you've heard before, and you don't think yuzuha got a boyfriend during the times you haven't spoke.

"that would be amazing, tai. can you please? i'll send you 50 for gas." yuzuha immediately says, opening her phone.

"no it's fine. you don't have to." the alleged 'tai' had responded, before you heard a door close.

yuzuha had a big smile on her face, and you looked at her with a bit of a smug look.

"didn't know you had a boyfriend." you teased, grabbing your orders and sitting at one of the seats.

yuzuha scoffed, rolling her eyes and leaning back into the comfy couch that she bought.

"hell no. that's just my older brother, taiju." yuzuha replies, tucking a hair behind her ear with a hum.

you nod, not knowing your best friend had another brother considering you only see hakkai.

maybe he doesn't live with them or maybe he isn't really their brother at all.

who knows.

after a few minutes, you walk outside and see a guy on a cool ass motorcycle.

you recognize it being the one that's usually in the shiba garage, but no one ever touched it before.

probably because it was his.

the man looks at you approaching him, and you try not to cream in your panties.

he was so fine.

he had this piercing gold gaze with a scowl resting permanently on his lips, hair blowing wildly behind him.

he wore a turtleneck that hugged his muscles perfectly and a pair of dress pants, dior belt holding them up.

not only was he fine, but he had money just like his siblings.

"you must be zu's friend?" the man begins to speak, leaning back to rest on his bike.

his voice came out gruffer than it had sounded over the phone, fitting his intimidating look.

you couldn't bring yourself to speak, offering him a nod as you got closer to get on the bike.

he stops you, getting off and taking the bag of food from you and resting it on the handle.

then, he lifts you up into the air and places you onto the bike properly, making you even more flustered.

he doesn’t say a word to you, just gets on the bike himself and wraps your arms around his waist.

you hold on tightly as he starts up the bike, before driving off.

the wind in your face actually feels amazing, makes you feel like you have a a lot of freedom in the world.

not only that, but you were offered a ride on a really hot guy’s motorcycle with him on it!

you wonder if he’ll get mad if you just…

you begin to let your hands fall a little lower from his waist, waiting for any reaction.

when there was none, you press a delicate hand on his bulge.

you feel his breath hitch just a bit, before he stops at a red light and turns to you.

“playing with your life gorgeous. can't wait till we get home?” taiju teases quietly, giving you a little smirk.

you smile at him, letting him pull your hands back up to where they originally were.

“sorry. just testing the waters.” you joke, getting a bit closer to him.

you feel him chuckle from his back as he looks back at the street when the light turns green.

you hope he stays so you can ‘test’ more waters on him.

he doesn’t seem to mind.

-

four hours into the movie marathon, yuzuha is knocked out on the long end of the couch.

taiju was upstairs in his own room, probably asleep as well.

the two of you had finished some of your food and had some more to share for hakkai and taiju.

so now it was just you and the movie.

it was growing to be late, but you don’t really feel tired at all.

maybe it’s because you were used to staying up so late to do homework and projects.

so you stayed up until the movie was over, woke yuzuha up to go in the room, and then laid on the air mattress wide awake.

of course this would happen.

you sigh to yourself, before going back downstairs to grab something to drink.

when you get to the kitchen, taiju is sitting on the counter with a mug in his hand.

shirtless, with only a pair of sweats that hang loosely on him.

you catch his attention almost immediately, him give you a little smile in result.

maybe he forgot about what happened earlier.

“hey.” you greet shortly, before grabbing one of the cups and getting some water.

he raises a hand to you, before looking back at his phone.

you lean against the counter yourself, typing away at your phone.

it’s silent for a while, besides the sound of things crashing and booming coming from his phone.

you wouldn’t take him for the type, then again, the shibas are pretty unpredictable.

“how come you’re down here so late?” taiju questions, not looking away from his phone.

you look up from yours, before taking another sip from your glass.

“can't sleep. you?” you reply shortly, placing your phone down onto the counter.

he does the same, wanting to engage in a conversation with you.

“same as you, really haven’t slept here in a while.” taiju explains, nodding his head.

you nod along with him. so he did use to live here, but he doesn’t anymore.

probably just visiting.

it grows silent once more, and you finish your water quickly.

it’s thirty minutes before two, and you don’t feel like staring up at the ceiling in yuzuha’s room.

taiju must’ve caught onto that, and he hops of the counter and moves in front of you.

“if you’d like, you can come keep me company in my room.” taiju whispers in your ear, before making his way upstairs.

you’re flustered now, and he probably knows it.

but you won’t let him get away that easily.

-

when you make it into taiju's room, you notice how well done it is although a bit childish.

he has drawings of what are supposed to be sharks with hakkai and yuzuha's name scribbled on it.

the year at the bottom left had read about 10-13 years back.

his bed sheets were perfectly a deep blue with fluffy dark grey covers over the bed with a clean smell.

they must be fresh out of the dryer they had in their laundry room.

he had a comfortable little couch there too, it was where he was sitting right now.

also where you were kneeling in front of him, between his big beefy legs that could suffocate you if he wanted.

as of right now, you were trying to fit half of his cock into your mouth with a whine.

"you want it baby? gotta get it wet first." taiju encouraged, bucking his hips into your warm throat.

you gag around him just a bit, holding the base of his cock with both hands as you look up at him.

he's looking back at you with a shit eating grin, knowing you can't take more than the four inches you have down your throat.

taiju was a pretty big man, you should've expected him to have a big dick as well.

after a bit more of you struggling, taiju lifts you off of him and brings you closer to his face.

"breathe mama, s'okay. you'll have more practice." taiju whispered, cupping you through your panties.

just from sucking him (and playing with yourself in the first half), you were more than ready to try and take him a different way.

he sits you in his lap and lifts his hips up to shuffle the rest of his pants off, before pulling your panties off.

"want you t'ride me. that okay with you?" taiju whispers, kissing your jawline softly.

even if you didn't want to before, you were so gonna do it after he asked.

taiju doesn’t let you respond though, just lifts you up and lines himself up with your sopping hole.

you hold yourself up on your knees and keep steady with the help of his broad shoulders.

he teases your clit softly, making you roll your hips with a hitched breath.

eventually, he’s stops playing and sits you down onto his tip.

a hiss leaves your mouth immediately, the stretch being something completely foreign.

you weren’t a virgin, but you’ve never been with anyone much bigger than you.

let alone raw.

taiju rests against the couch a bit more, holding your waist to keep you still on top of him.

he’s watching as you sink yourself onto his hard cock, shaking ever so slightly and taking deep breaths.

taiju bores his eyes into your closed ones, feeling you rest your hands on his chest.

eventually, you sit down completely and open your eyes to stare back into taiju’s gold ones.

“you okay?” taiju teases quietly, rubbing your hip in slow reassuring circles.

you nod quickly, letting out a quiet sigh and leaning closer to him.

he notices how much you were tightening around him, and presses his thumb against your clit.

“s’okay. just relax for me, gonna make you feel good.” taiju reassures, rubbing in tight circles.

you moan quietly, following the movements of his thumb with your hips despite taiju trying to keep you still.

"mhm.. open up that pretty pussy for me." taiju groans, grinding up into you.

you begin to bounce and grind just a bit, already feeling overwhelmed from the size of him inside of you.

and you barely started moving.

taiju gains your attention by giving your hips a tight squeeze, staring into your eyes.

"you'll tell me if it's too much, okay?" taiju practically demanded, glancing down at where you two were connected.

you nod immediately, picking up the speed a little more.

soon enough, you were nearing your second orgasm, holding his hands and bouncing erratically on his dick while moaning a bit too loud.

taiju wasn't worried though, he knew his sister has slept through many things she probably shouldn't have.

loud claps echoed through the room every time you slammed your hips down onto him.

"m'cumming!" you cried out above him for the second time tonight, squeezing his hands tightly as you threw your head back.

taiju knows already though. he's mesmerized by the way you squeeze and ride him more desperately.

"go ahead. make a mess on me, baby." taiju grunts, feeling your insides squeeze against him more.

and at his command, you're crying out loudly and releasing on him one more.

taiju groans quietly, letting go of your hands and grabbing your waist.

he lifts you up and practically tosses you onto his bed, before pushing your legs up to your ears and sliding into you again.

you press a hand against his stomach, squealing as he presses directly into your sweet spot.

"w-wait taiju! s'too much!" you gasped out, scratching at his abs to try to push him out a bit.

"mm-mm. move it. it's never too much." taiju says gruffly, slapping your hands away and pounding into you.

you toss your head back and moan, feeling your legs begin to shake like you had to cum again.

taiju lets your legs go and they end up wrapped around his waist tightly, trying to still his movements.

but it does nothing, since taiju is much stronger and bigger than you.

he reaches between the both of you and begins rubbing your clit feverishly, relishing in the feeling of you pulling him in.

you feel something begin to build up in your tummy, something stronger than before.

you cry out loudly, still trying to get him to let up on his thrusts.

"g-gonna make a mess! please!" you squeal, feeling his hand begin to press on your tummy.

"i know mama, can feel it." taiju grunts out, still battering your poor pussy senseless.

before you knew it, you were squirting all over his stomach and the sheets below you.

the extra wetness made the thrusts you continued to receive much louder and wetter than before.

"hope you're on the pill." taiju says to you, feeling his hips begin to stutter and lose its rhythm.

you don't let it bother you, too overstimulated to understand anything he could be saying to you.

he wraps his hand around your throat to keep you still as he pushes deep into you, cumming hard.

his scrunches up his nose and groans, shutting his eyes tight.

and although your sight is a bit blurry, you can't help but watching him closely as he rides out his orgasm.

when he's finished, he pulls out of you and watches his cum drip out onto the bed before moving his attention back to your face.

you were spent, and on the verge of falling asleep.

taiju presses two or three kisses to your lips, before rubbing your thigh comfortingly.

"don't go to sleep yet. m'not done." taiju whispers in your ear, gathering some of the cum up and pushing it back into you.

and you definitely did have a feeling he wasn't.

-

the next morning, you wake up in the airbed more sore than you thought you'd be.

the numerous amount of rounds you and taiju did might be the reason, and not because of the airbed have little to none air.

you get out as best as possible, before making your way to the bathroom and brushing your teeth.

yuzuha was already out of bed and was probably downstairs.

when you finish, you go downstairs and see all three of the shibas standing around in the kitchen.

now that you realize it, they all shared more similarities, though hakkai looked much more like taiju standing next to him.

"good morning sleeping beauty. how ya feeling?" yuzuha teases, oblivious as to what happened last night.

you stretch out your limbs and pick up a piece of fruit from her bowl, chewing on it.

"sore, actually. feels like my body was bent wrong." you complain lightly, sitting on the counter next to her.

hakkai spits out his coffee, before coughing loudly and holding onto taiju for support.

the three of you were confused, watching as hakkai wiped his mouth with paper towel.

"uhm.. okay. when did you come back, kai?" yuzuha questioned, shrugging off her brother's odd behvaior.

when he came to his senses and finished cleaning up, he leaned against the counter with a bottle of water.

taiju rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee, waiting for hakkai's response.

"sometime around two or three last night." hakkai says hesitantly, drinking his cold water.

taiju then spits out his coffee and you begin to choke on the piece of strawberry in your mouth.

you play yours off with a laugh, covering your mouth as you lean on yuzuha so she laughs too.

he had came in around the time taiju had you in his bed, which is probably why he reacted the way he did.

now it was taiju cleaning up his mess and drinking water.

"i don't get it. what's going on?" yuzuha questioned suspiciously after her laugh dies down, looking at her brothers.

taiju shakes his head, looking at hakkai with a unreadable expression.

hakkai clears his throat after another sip of water, before looking at his older sister.

"the coffee is shit, yuzu. is it dark roast?" hakkai questions, pointing to the bag of coffee grounds.

she checks, and (luckily), the coffee that was in the machine was dark roast.

yuzuha curses quietly and tosses the bag in the garbage, along with the pot of coffee that was made.

"shit, my bad. i'll go get another one now." yuzuha says, grabbing her wallet and keys before turning to you.

she was silently asking if you would be okay staying here while she runs to the store.

you wave her off, massaging your hips just a little bit.

"i'm still sore, so i'll probably lay down for a bit." you explain, flashing her a little smile.

yuzuha nods, before changing out her shoes and offering you a smile.

"i'll bring back some painkillers." yuzuha lets you know, before walking out of the house.

when it's confirmed that yuzuha was out of the driveway, you and taiju turned to hakkai.

"i got one hundred dollars if you keep your mouth shut." you say, pointing your fork at him.

hakkai scoffs, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter with a smirk.

"one fifty sounds like a better bargain honestly." hakkai says, looking at you with a raised brow.

"how about two fifty and you eat for free." taiju bargains with him again, crossing his arms to mock hakkai.

you go to protest about the amount of money, but taiju holds his hand up to you.

it shuts you up almost immediately, especially when hakkai's eyes widen with a grin.

"you got a deal-" "but only you! and maybe mitsuya." taiju restates, cutting hakkai off before he got a big head.

hakkai scoffs, before nodding and saying a short 'fine' under his breath.

hakkai leaves the room after giving taiju his cash app, and goes upstairs.

"i don't have two fifty." you sigh, leaning back and letting him find yourself in between your legs.

he presses a kiss your your lips and then along your jawline.

"don't worry about it. i'll pay him." he whispers, massaging your hips for you.

you nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you pull him into a kiss.

you hope hakkai doesn't see this, or you fear he'll ask for more money.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Kinktober Day 5

Day Four | 🌹Kinktober Masterlist🌹 | Day Six

Pairing: Jax Teller x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked.

Warnings: Table sex/desk sex; enemies to enemies who fuck; vaginal sex; unsafe sex

 “What are you doing in here?” 

The question made you jump, and you whirled away from the bookshelf, dropping your phone in the process. You thought you’d be able to get some peace and quiet when you’d found the office, away from the party that had taken over the rest of the clubhouse.

You figured that if no one found you out, you’d be able to hang out there for the rest of the night. You’d hardly been there five minutes, and now this? Jax leaned in the doorway, hands tucked into his pockets as he waited patiently for your answer.

“Jesus Christ,” You hissed, irritation welling up at the sight of Jax’s smiling face. You crouched down, picking your phone back up and setting it on the bookshelf.

“Not in a party mood?” 

You shook your head, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s fine, I guess. I was just getting some space, that’s all.” 

“You mind some company?” Jax asked. Your brows rose as he stepped deeper into the room, shutting the door behind himself. 

“I figured you had all the company you needed out there,” You nodded back toward the door. 

“Saw you leavin’.” 

“So you followed?” 

“Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Real knight in shining armor. All you need now is the white horse.” 

“I’ve got the bike. Probably got some paint in the garage.” 

“Please,” You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. “You wanna be really helpful, tell me if there’s any booze in here. Or do I have to go back out there for that.”

“Depends on what you’re lookin’ for,” Jax drifted deeper into the room, rounding the desk. “If you want a beer, you’re gonna have to go back out there, but if you don't mind something a little…Stronger…” He gazed at you from under the sweep of his lashes as he leaned down, opening a drawer out of sight. “I’ve got you covered.” 

You watched as he straightened, a bottle of whiskey in one hand, a tumbler in the other. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than braving the crowd outside. You sighed before you nodded, muttering, “It’ll do.” 

You scooched back to sit on the desk, swinging your feet as Jax uncapped the bottle and poured a healthy amount for you. He held it out, then yanked it back before you could take hold of it. 

“What do you say?”

Your mood darkened as you held your hand out, warning: “Now.” 

“That’s not the magic word.” 

“Right fuckin’ now.” 

“You managed to get further away from the correct answer.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching out and snatching up the discarded bottle before taking a swig. His lips curled with a smile as you lowered the bottle, holding it with both hands. 

“Don’t worry, honey," He chuckled. "You’ll learn.” 

“You don’t have anything to teach me that I don’t already know.” 

“We’ll see about that.” 

--  

You had been happy to spend the night alone, but spending the time with Jax was…Surprisingly pleasant. You’d been certain that he would grow bored with you, but you found him inching steadily closer to you. He’d started at the other end of the desk, and just shifted bit by bit—as he topped off the glass, as he offered you a smoke, as he turned to shift something around on the desk. It wasn’t long before the two of you were pressed thigh-to-thigh. 

The first brush of his lip against your shoulder made you go still—but he’d been in the middle of turning, shifting something around behind yo. You were certain that it was a mistake. 

The second brush made you certain that the first hadn’t been a mistake. The third moved closer to your neck. The fourth was up against the hinge of your jaw as he slid his hand over your thigh, drawing up the fabric of your dress as his fingers skated across your bare inner thigh. Your eyes closed at the feeling, your stomach fluttering at the sensation. 

“Jax,” You warned softly. “I’m not some crow eater that’s just gonna get on her knees and beg.”

His chuckle was low against your ear. “You’ve made that very clear.” 

“So what do you think you’re doing?” 

“Changing your mind.” 

--  

“You know the magic word.” 

You weren’t sure you knew much of anything at that moment. You did know that he had your panties around your ankle, and the skirt of your dress shoved up around your hips; the straps of your dress were sagging against your arms; the neckline has been drawn down to reveal your breasts to him. His shirt had been discarded long ago, showing off his muscled, tattooed chest to you. 

For as much ire as it raised in you, you had to admit—every single damn thing you’d ever heard a crow eater say about Jax’s prowess was completely true. The man was a god in bed…Or at least, on the desk. He’d drawn you to the edge of your orgasm with his fingers and tongue, and you’d been so, so close that you’d nearly begged—but seeing Jax straighten up and undo his pants had made you wet your lips, shifting closer to him. 

You were still just on the edge, you’d been certain you wouldn’t last long once Jax eased into you…But he hadn’t. 

He was trailing the head of his cock against your plumped, slick pussy lips, watching you with a smug grin. He leaned in, rolling his hips slowly against yours as he brushed a tantalizing kiss to your lips. 

“Jackson Nathaniel Teller, I swear to god,” You gritted out, tipping your hips into his touch. You whined as he drew away again, letting your head loll back. “Fuck, you’re such an asshole.” 

“I may be an asshole, darlin’, but I have something you want.” 

Jax pressed tight against you again, his cock slotting against your cunt as he braced his hands against the desk, nipping your earlobe. 

“One little word,” He murmured, emphasizing each with a slow saw of his hips. 

You clenched your jaw, tipping your head to the side to catch his eye. That warm, smug smile was still on his face; you wanted to slap it off. But what did you want more? The satisfaction of slapping him, or to quell the aching need between your thighs? You sighed heavily through your nose, grudgingly mumbling what he wanted to hear. 

“What was that?” He goaded, turning his ear toward your lips. “I didn’t catch it.”

“...Please.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Please, Jax, please fuck me!” You whined, squeezing his hips with your knees. You thought he’d ask you to repeat it again, but he slipped his hand between your legs, guiding his cock into you. You groaned, bracing your hands besides Jax’s as he filled you. 

“Fuck, yes,” You breathed, eyes sliding shut. Jax turned his head, nipping your neck and sucking over the spot. You cursed under your breath, raising a hand to twine in his hair. 

“Don’t give me a hickey, you little shit.” 

He laughed, swiping his tongue over the stinging skin. 

“Why not?” He curled his arm around your waist, dragging you closer to the edge of the desk, drawing you further down on his cock. “Afraid everyone out there will know what we’ve been up to in here?” He tipped his chin up, making you shiver as he brushed his beard over the blooming hickey. “They’re gonna know anyway when I make you scream my name.” 

Before you could argue, he drew his cock back, then snapped his hips forward. You gasped at the sudden change in pace, tightening your grip on his hair. He pounded into you forcefully, the strength of the movement making the glass and bottle rattle on the desk. You turned your head, using your hold in Jax's hair to guide him away from your neck. You caught his lips with yours, slipping your tongue into his panting mouth. He swirled his tongue against yours, fingers pressing harshly against your skin as you indulged in one another. He leaned back just a touch as he broke your kiss, forehead resting against yours. 

“I can feel you,” He groaned, “Are you close?” 

“Mhm,” You nodded hurriedly.

“You wanna cum?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Jax, please, please,” You whimpered. Jax grinned, sucking his fingers between his lips before he reached down, swiping at your sensitive clit. The sudden slickness made you yelp, your hips bounding to chase the sensations. You bit your lip, quieting your moans as you came, tightening and throbbing around his cock. You laid back on the desk as the sensation calmed. Jax continued to gently roll his hips, his gaze sweeping desirously over your prone form. He leaned over you, smile widening as you trailed your hand down his chest. 

“Are you close?” You murmured. You felt so good—pliant, and calmed, even with the discomfort of the desk beneath you. 

“Nope.” 

Your brows rose, and you propped yourself up on your elbows, shivering as Jax’s hips continued to roll into you. 

“What?” 

“I told you,” He leaned over you, lips brushing yours. “Those people out there? They’re gonna hear you scream my name.” 

Jax straightened again, drawing one of your thighs up around his hip. 

“Better get comfortable, darlin’.”

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