#restaurant to another world AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jeonginsleftcheek · 4 months ago

Text

My favorite person

pairing: han jisung x afab!reader

genre: fluff, smut, neighbors/(fake) enemies to lovers au

word count: 6.7k

warnings: alcohol, swearing, smoking weed, cheesy flirting, handjob, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), squirting, cumshots, spanking, they're both desperate for each other and completely in love

a/n: had so much fun writing this omg! i love playful hannie sm and i hope y'all enjoy this too, consider a reblog if you did🩷

~check out my: Masterlist

It's almost midnight when Jisung's tired and aching legs slowly carry him towards his house. He has music in his ears and he's whistling lowly in the empty street.

It's still warm, the summer sun is unforgiving during the day, burning every surface up, stealing the freshness of the night.

Jisung can't wait to take all his greasy clothes off (courtesy of working in a fast food restaurant) and hop in the shower to wash the day off.

As he nears his house, he sees you sitting on your porch, wearing an oversized shirt, your hair in a messy bun, your sandals thrown aside and a can of beer in your hand.

He waves and you roll your eyes as you take another sip of your beverage.

"Came to bother me?"- you ask as he lowers his headphones to rest them around his neck.

"Ofcourse, you know that's my favorite hobby."- he smirks, leaning on the railing in front of you.

"You're blocking my view."- you lean to the left, trying to look behind him.

"Of what?"- he turns to look.

"The street."

"There's nothing on the street."- Jisung pouts.

"Still more interesting than you."- you quip.

"Wow, hostile much?"

"You know me."- you shrug with a smirk and he chuckles.

"You got another one of those?"- Jisung points at the beer in your hand.

"For you? No."- you continue smirking.

"Liar."- he smirks back at you. "I know for a fact your fridge is full of that crap."

"You know, it was nice and quiet before you came around."- you sigh.

"Well, I'm here to disrupt your peace."- he says and you groan with a smile as he sits next to you.

"You stink for real."- your face scrunches up as you scoot away from him.

"Mm, the smell of a working man."- Jisung leans towards you, draping his arm on your shoulders and you shake him off with a look of disgust.

"Ew, go shower."- you shove him away and he laughs.

"Alright I was going to anyways. I'll be done in 10."- he gets up before you can answer and you watch his silly little legs walking away from you.

Most of the time you want to smack Jisung, but sometimes he's a nice distraction from the thoughts swirling in your mind and the shitty world around you.

You don't wait for him though, throwing the empty beer can in the trash and padding back to your house. You close the door with a thud and sit in your living room, your fan is placed right in front of your face as you exhale.

"Fuck this heat."- you mutter to yourself, the sound of that annoying commercial voice from the TV blending into the background, behind the droning noise of the fan.

You almost fall asleep sitting like that but your door swings open suddenly and it jolts you awake. You don't have to look to know whose footsteps are echoing in your house.

"Finally refreshed."- it's Jisung and he grabs a beer from your fridge and then sits on your couch like it's his house.

His hair is still wet and messy, droplets of water sliding down his neck towards the white Sonic Youth shirt he's wearing.

You don't mean to stare but you do for a moment until the sound of him opening the can of beer snaps you out of your thoughts.

"That's my shirt, you thief!"- you point your finger at him and he laughs annoyingly.

"Doesn't have your name written anywhere on it."- he shrugs and you roll your eyes, smacking his arm.

"Obnoxious."- you mutter but he ignores your little quips as always.

"I'm not stinky anymore."- he smirks at you, his arm around your shoulders again and you whine, moving his arm away.

"All boys are stinky. And why are you drinking beer? I'm not gonna hold back your hair when you start puking, you lightweight."- you shove him playfully and he almost chokes on the sip he's taking.

"I'm not gonna puke, okay? I will be completely fine and sober after this."- he says matter-of-factly as he brings the can up.

"You would've been better off drinking some milk, baby."- you tease him and he chuckles.

"Baby, huh?"- he smirks, his face closer to yours.

"Yes baby, like an infant. A child. Now get out of my personal space."- you press your fingertips into his forehead and push him away.

"Damn, keep being mean to me and you won't get any of this."- Jisung waves a baggy in front of your face.

"Oh, now you're talking."- you smirk and he laughs at you.

"I'm not so stinky anymore, am I?"- he wiggles his eyebrows.

"You're still stinky."- you say, reaching for the baggy but he snatches it away.

"Give it here!"- you yell out and he giggles as he keeps moving the baggy away from you while you try to catch it.

You kneel on the couch, trying to grab it with your flailing hands but he moves his arm away again, making you lose your balance as you basically fall into his lap.

"Hello there."- Jisung smirks, his arm wrapping around your waist.

"Ew."- you scramble to get off him, crossing your arms over your chest and looking away from him.

"Okay, okay, you can roll."- he reaches the baggy towards you and you grab it but he keeps holding onto it.

"Jisung."- you warn.

"Give me a kiss and I'll give you the baggy."

"Quit blackmailing me with kisses. Never gonna happen."- you say as he chuckles, the little bastard.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyways, here. For real now."- he gives you the baggy and you get to work.

Jisung watches you as you concentrate, your brows slightly furrowed and your tongue poking out between your lips.

He licks his lips unconsciously, thoughts of tasting you have been on his mind ever since he first saw you when he moved next door.

You were a mess back then and sometimes you still are but Jisung loves the mess you are, he loves that you don't try to pretend to be okay when you're not, he loves that you don't take anyone's shit and always fight for yourself, he loves the fact that you're just so unapologetically yourself that you don't mind crying in front of him.

"Earth to stinky. Give me your lighter."- your voice breaks his daydreaming and he rolls his eyes playfully at the nickname before handing you the lighter.

The first two inhales already make you a little floaty, waves of relaxation slowly traveling through your body. Just what you needed after the day you had.

Your music plays in the background, the shared playlist Jisung and you have on spotify. The two of you are sprawled on the couch in front of your fan, the smoke from the blunt swirling in different patterns as Jisung drapes his leg over your lap.

"You wanna do shotgun?"- he asks, looking at you with his eyelids droopy and eyes red and you mirror his expression.

"It's gonna have to be a no."- you say with a snicker.

"Whyyyy?"- he whines, bringing his other leg up to rest it on your lap too.

"Because I know it's another one of your ways to try and kiss me."- you say with a dopey smile, your mind floaty and cloudy as you stare at Jisung's face, a goofy smile on his lips, his puffy cheeks looking extra squishy. You want to bite him.

"You're not getting in my pants."- you add and he laughs at you.

"We'll see about that."- he wiggles his eyebrows and the expression on his face just makes you laugh.

It's dumb but both of you have a fit of laughter and you forget all your worries, and Jisung scoots closer to you, he leans his head on your shoulder and plays with your fingers.

You want to protest and tell him to get his stinky self away from you but the weight of his legs on you and the way he gently touches your hand coupled with the effects of the weed bring you closer to the sleep you so badly crave.

"Ouch."- is the first thing that comes out of your mouth the next morning, the sunlight blinding you as soon as you open your eyes.

You feel dehydrated, sweaty and disoriented as you blink slowly, squinting your eyes as you look around. Somehow you ended up in your room, and judging by the snoring and the warm body attached to you, it was probably Jisung's doing.

You groan and try to escape his grasp but he wrapped both his arms and legs around you, clinging onto you like he never wants to let go.

You pinch his arm slightly and he stirs awake.

"What'd you do that for?"- his voice is deep and laced with sleep.

"Don't you have your own house?"- you ask.

"I like yours better."- he mutters, nuzzling into your neck. Goosebumps rise on your skin as he tightens his hold around you, his breath constantly tickling your skin.

"You're a pest."- you chuckle, wiggling away from him but you can't move at all.

"A pest who washes your dishes and brings you food. Hm, maybe you should consider being nice to me."- he lifts his upper body suddenly, staring down at you and you turn in his arms and look up at him.

You hate that your heart skips a beat when you see him first thing in the morning, his hair a mess of curls, eyes laced with sleep, his cute puffy cheeks and pouty lips, the shirt he stole from you messed up from sleeping, sliding down and revealing his skin.

"Get out of my bed."- you groan, wanting to run away far from him so you don't keep having these thoughts.

"That's not what you were saying last night."- he smirks.

"W-what do you mean?"- you stutter.

"Well, last night you were literally falling asleep on the couch and I asked if you want me to carry you to bed. You said yes so I did."- he keeps smirking. "And I was actually about to leave to sleep on your couch but you pulled me down and told me to stay here."

"Ugh. What did you put in that weed?"- your face is scrunched up as you finally free yourself from his hold.

"A love potion."- he narrows his eyes at you.

"I'm gonna go throw up."- you get up and Jisung's laughter echoes behind you as you make your way to the bathroom.

Working at the convenience store had you run into all sorts of people but it seemed that today every single annoying and rude person decided to shop.

You were this close to biting someone's head off, fuming as you stomped your feet to the bus station, some angry metal songs screaming into your ears.

The bus was also especially disgusting today, the smell of it making your stomach rise contantly coupled with a creepy old man staring at you the whole time made for a horrible ride home.

You practically ran from the station to your house, barging in as you opened the door. Forgot to lock up again, you think and shrug.

You almost trip over someone's legs and you're about to scream but the owner of the legs beats you to it.

"Jisung!"- you yell out, grabbing at your chest as he looks up at you, blinking innocently as he lays next to your couch on his stomach.

"You scared me so bad!"- he says and you shove his leg with your foot. The audacity.

"I scared you? You're in my house."- you put your hands on your hips, your eyebrows raising.

"You left it unlocked like always."- he says, his hands roaming under your couch.

"What the hell are you even doing?"- you ask confusedly.

"I'm looking for my lighter from last night! It's my favorite and I couldn't find it anywhere this morning so it has to be here somewhere."- he explains as he continues looking.

"We'll find it, no need to cry."- you chuckle, teasing him.

"I'm not crying. Yet."- he jokes and you laugh as he stands up, brushing off his pants.

"Oh, you look like shit."- he says as he finally looks at you closely.

"Wow, thanks."- you smack his arm and he squeals dramatically, grabbing at it.

"Sorry, I meant you look like you've had a bad day."- he says.

"I'm still having it."

"Not even my cute face makes it better?"- he pouts at you, batting his eyelashes.

"That makes it even worse."- you say, making a disgusted face. "Go to work Jisung and stop bothering me, I need to have the afternoon to myself."- you add, whining.

"So that means I'll come back after my shift."- he smirks.

"Only if you shower first."- you joke and he chuckles.

"Ofcourse. Now come here and let me give you a hug, you need one."- Jisung opens his arms.

"I really don't."- you shake your head at him.

"Yes, you really do."

"If you hug me I'll smack you!"

"Is that a promise?"- he smirks and you give in with a groan and let him wrap his arms around you.

You can truly never win, you always end up giving into his hugs and cuddles, knowing somewhere in the back of your mind that you crave to be close to him.

You had the whole afternoon planned out, cleaning up, doing some self care, taking a nap and then cooking dinner.

You ended up feeling sad and deflated, so you just stood under the shower, hoping that the water will somehow wash out the shitty day you had.

Fatigue got the better of you and you ended up falling asleep on your couch.

You stir awake, hearing the rustling of plastic bags and then a thud followed by Jisung cursing under his breath.

You lift your head up, squinting at him as he slowly walks towards you.

"Oh hey, did I wake you up?"- he asks gently.

"Yeah, kinda."- you say, feeling dizzy from the heat as you slowly sit up, wondering what day it is.

"I'm sorry."- he says as he puts the bags down.

"I hope this makes up for it. I brought you your favorite from work and I put extra love in it."- he smiles cutely and you really want to smack him in that moment, but in a good way.

"I'll think about forgiving you."- you tease and he chuckles.

"I'm gonna go shower and then I'll come hang with you."- he says.

"You mean annoy me?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."- he smirks.

You open up the bags and dig in immediately, your stomach growling at the sight of food.

Jisung comes back some 15 minutes later, practically skipping to you and throwing himself on the couch next to you, making you bounce a little.

"I left you some fries."- you say as you sip on your Coke.

"No, no, eat it all. I already ate at work."- he quickly shakes his head.

"Okay, don't need to tell me twice."- you start eating again and Jisung smiles at you adoringly.

"You won't believe the day I had."- he says when he snaps out of his trance.

"Tell me about it, I was this close to murdering someone."- you grumble.

"This woman came in and she returned her order 3 times, telling us it's not what she ordered when we clearly heard her say the order. Like we're some kind of five star restaurant not a freaking burger joint."

"Did she ask to talk to the manager?"- you snicker as you finish eating and lean back.

"Ofcourse she did, fucking Karen."- Jisung rolls his eyes and you laugh.

"The amount of those I had in the shop today. Not people making a fuss over yoghurt and milk, like I can't deal with them anymore. They wanna make petty drama where there is none. I wish I could just take a vacation away from everything."- you sigh and Jisung scoots closer to you, turning his body towards yours.

"Me too. I need a break."- he says and you turn to look at him, your heart skipping a beat when you realize how close his face is to yours.

"Let's run away."- he says suddenly and you laugh.

"We don't have any money to do that."- you say as you both lean on the headrest of your couch.

"We'll find a way. We can... juggle! Or sing on the street! Or you can read tarot cards!"- he flails his arms and you laugh, your giggles making Jisung's stomach swarm with butterflies.

"Keep pulling suggestions out of your ass."- you shake your head and he chuckles. "It's entertaining."

"But I'm for real. I would run away with you any time you asked. Like I'd pack my bags right now if you just said the word."- he says, his hand somehow finding yours.

"Where would we go?"- you ask, your fingers slotting between his.

"Anywhere we want. We would never stay in one place, we'd always look for new adventures. It would be me and you against the world."- he smiles, his boba eyes shiny as he looks at you.

"That sounds so nice."- your eyes fall to his lips. He's so close and it's so tempting but something inside you never lets you close that gap, mentally or physically.

Jisung's cheeks heat up as he catches you staring at his lips.

"But, it's just a fantasy."- you move away suddenly. "Real life is not like that. Real life is rude customers, exploitative bosses, barely making ends meet and this stupid heat that's making me feel even more disgusting."

"Way to bring the mood down."- Jisung snickers, squeezing your hand.

"You know me, y/n the party pooper."- you chuckle and he laughs.

"Oh but the party didn't even start yet!"- Jisung smirks and grabs the remote, turning the channels until he finds the commercial one, you always watch it together after midnight if you can't sleep, laughing at stupid stuff people sell.

"Oh my god!"- you chuckle. "This requires beer."

You go to get up but Jisung stops you.

"Let me."

"Damn, is Han Jisung actually a gentleman?"- you tease, wiggling your eyebrows.

"I'll have you know that I'm a perfect gentleman."

"Mhm, right. I'll see about that."- you say as he brings two cans of beer.

"Yes you will."- he smirks, sitting down next to you.

Someone is selling a gilded statue of a peacock, complete with different colored jewels all over it.

"So kitschy. Like who'd want that staring at them at their house? My eyes would hurt."- you say with disgust on your face.

"It would be funny to get it though."- Jisung says and you laugh.

"They still didn't reveal the price. How much do you think it costs?"- you ask as the woman on the tv describes the kitschy statue and the materials it's made of.

"Why don't you take a guess? If you guess right, I'll do anything you ask of me and if you're way off you have to kiss me."- Jisung smirks and you smack his thigh.

"Again with the kissing! Fine! Let's do it. I guess 200 dollars."- you say annoyed and he laughs at you as he rubs his thigh.

"Alright, I guess 300 dollars."- he says.

You wait for the reveal in anticipation, and when the woman says 350 dollars, you freeze.

"Guess I owe you a kiss."- you sigh and turn towards Jisung.

He lookes completely and utterly bamboozled, his lips falling open as he stares at you, not blinking.

"Jisung?"- you wave a hand in front of his face.

"Right."- Jisung laughs, thinking you're joking around so he puckers his lips towards you, exaggerating for the effect, his eyes closed.

"Ji, please be normal about this."- you warn him, your hand on his and his eyes snap open.

"W-we're actually gonna kiss?! You're actually gonna kiss me?!"- he freaks out suddenly, his eyes widdened.

"A bet is a bet."- you shrug with a smirk, but on the inside you're freaking out the same way Jisung is.

"I'll take it."- he nods quickly.

"Why don't you start breathing first?"- you laugh, scooting closer to him so your knees are touching.

"Right, breathing, that's like important."- he says and takes a deep breath in as you giggle at him.

It's almost 2am and you decide to throw everything out the window as you lean in closer to Jisung's face. You can hear his breath hitch as you gently brush your lips on his.

Without any more stalling, you finally close the gap and press your lips into his. Your mind feels dizzy instantly, his lips are so soft and pliant against yours as he kisses you back eagerly.

You can feel the relief in his movements, like he was waiting for this for so long, and frankly so were you.

His hand ends up on your waist and you cup his face, some kind of hunger brewing inside you as you deepen the kiss, your tongue prying his lips open, making him moan.

His arms wrap around you as your tongues fight for dominance, making the kiss needy and messy, your teeth clashing and spit dribbling down your chin.

When you part for air both of you look dazed and Jisung squirms uncomfortably as he looks down. Your eyes follow his gaze and you chuckle at the prominent bulge in his sweatpants.

"Really, Ji? One kiss is all it takes to have you this turned on?"- you grab his thigh and he jolts, gasping as he looks up at you.

"Don't make fun of me! It's your fault anyways."

"Oh it is, hm?"- you smirk, massaging his inner thigh, making his hips lift up for some kind of friction.

"Yeah, so help me get rid of it?"- he blinks at you with those puppy eyes of his, a cute pout on his lips for added effect.

The little manipulator.

"You're a horny little boy, Ji."- you chuckle, hooking your fingers in his pants and he gasps.

"Woah, you're going straight for it?!"- he panicks.

"What, do you want me to introduce myself to it first? State my name and business?"- you snicker and he laughs, smacking your arm.

"You make me feel so self-conscious just so you know."- Jisung groans as his head falls back and he covers his eyes with his arm.

"Aw, baby is shy."- you coo and pull his pants down in one swift move.

Jisung whines as his cock smacks against his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight.

"Damn, didn't know you were packing this much."- you say, your hand instantly wrapping around his throbbing member, the pre-cum already lubing your hand up as it dribbles down.

"Ahh, don't say shit like that. I'm gonna cum."- he whimpers and you laugh as you squeeze his cock, making his hips jolt upwards into your hand.

"Already? I didn't even do anything."- you smirk, running your thumb through his slit, playing with the pre-cum oozing out of it.

"Yes you did. You're... you."- he says.

"What does that mean?"- you chuckle, playing with the sensitive underside of his head, making his cock twitch in your hold.

"Means anything you do gets me hot."- he whines.

"Oh yeah? Is that why you can't look at me, Ji?"- you tease, grabbing his arm and trying to pry it off of his face.

He just whines and doesn't budge.

"Look at me, Jisung."- you say sternly, squeezing his cock again.

"Ah, fuck!"- he whines and finally looks at you.

His face is red in arousal and embarassment and you chuckle at the state of him.

"Keep your eyes on me."- you order, moving your hand up and down.

"Oh my god, y/n."- he whimpers, instantly looking down at your hand pleasuring him.

"Eyes on me, baby."- you warn again and he looks at you quickly.

You manage to slide your tank top down and Jisung's eyes are as wide as saucers.

"I see you always staring at my breasts."- you smirk, your free hand coming up to play with your nipple. "Would you like to touch them?"

"Y-yes, yes I would!"- he whimpers as you speed up your movement on his painfully hard cock, the squelching sounds going straight to your core.

"Say please."- you smirk, leaning closer to him.

"Please! Please!"- he looks desperate as you tease him, your breasts almost on his face.

"Okay, you can touch."- you say and his hands are instantly squeezing your flesh, thumbs running over your nipples.

He looks fixated so you change up the rhythm of your hand, cupping his balls with your other hand.

"S-shit!"- Jisung moans loudly as his cock twitches hard in your hand, and he cums, ropes of white cum painting your hand and his thighs.

Both of you gasp and he whines, his hands coming up to cover his face.

"Well, that was quick."- you chuckle.

"Oh my god, that's so embarassing. Please don't laugh at me."- he mumbles behind his hands as you wipe yours clean.

"Hey, don't be embarassed."- you quickly grab his hands, moving them away from his face. "I think that was so fucking hot."

"R-really?"- he pouts.

"Well, yeah. Shows me how much you want me."- you say, your eyes full of lust.

"I do, I want you so bad. I-I can go for more rounds if you're down."- he says almost timidly and you really want to eat him up.

"Ofcourse. I hate unfinished business."- you waste no time as you take off your pants and Jisung is quick to take his shirt off.

"Stay like that. I wanna ride your pretty cock."- you narrow your eyes at him and he whimpers.

"God, please do!"- he says, his voice strained as you grab his sensitive cock.

You throw your leg over him and hover above him as you start jerking him off again.

"Touch me."- you grab his wrist and pull his hand towards your pussy, dripping with arousal and begging to be filled up.

He runs his fingers on your wet folds, rubbing your pussy and you let out a needy moan as you grind against his fingers.

"Look who else is desperate."- Jisung smirks, feeling his chest swell with pride that he's the one making you feel like this.

"Shut up and put them in."- you groan, landing a light slap on his cock and he moans loudly, pushing his fingers inside your wetness as he squirms under your touch.

"D-don't make me cum yet."- he whimpers as you keep a steady pace on his cock while he starts fucking his fingers in and out of you, matching the speed of your hand.

"Ah, Jisung!"- you whine when he hits the spot inside you, making your legs shake.

The way you moaned his name got him twitching in your hand again. He speeds up and you grab his hand suddenly, stopping him.

"I don't want to fuck around anymore. I'm gonna fuck you now."- you smirk and he gulps, pulling his fingers out of your pussy and you aim his dick towards your entrance, sliding the wet head against your warmness.

Jisung plops his fingers in his mouth sucking on them and tasting your juices and you whine at the sight, sinking on his cock at the same time.

Jisung's head falls back as he pulls his fingers out with a pop, letting out a strained moan at the feeling of your velvety walls sliding down on his hard cock.

He grips your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck and start bouncing on him fast immediately, your thighs smacking down on his, your titties bouncing in his face.

Jisung starts whining desperately, he can't wrap his head around the fact that you're fucking on him so desperately, your nails digging into his back.

"Fuck me harder!"- he whines, pushing his hips up and you whimper as you fuck on him as fast and hard as you can. He follows your pace and meets your movements with his thrusts, pushing his cock so deep inside you that the tip presses into your cervix, making you see stars.

"Ah, Ji, you feel so good!"- you moan as you grip his shoulders, the couch creaking under the two of you fucking like some kind of feral animals.

"Mm you feel so good too. So tight around me."

Jisung digs his heels into your carpet and fucks you even harder, his hand landing a smack on your ass.

"Ow!"- you whimper and Jisung apologizes immediately, caressing your ass but he felt the way your pussy clenched around him when he spanked you.

"No, it's okay. Do it again."- you groan, barely catching a breath, your thighs are burning from all the exertion but the way his cock feels inside you beats the need to give your legs a rest.

Jisung's eyes are glazed over as he smacks you hard again, your hand tangles in his hair as you moan his name loudly. He leans in and captures your nipple in his mouth, sucking on it as he grips your ass, plummeting into your clenching hole.

You feel crazy as your orgasm hits you harder than ever before and you lift off of his dick just to squirt all over him.

"Jisung!"- you whimper and then look down realizing he's cumming too, just from the sight of you squirting and you grab his cock and help him get to his high.

"Ahh, y/n..."- he keeps moaning your name as you milk him dry, sweat covering both of your bodies, the fan behind you helping you cool down as goosebumps rise on your skin.

"Fuck that was so hot."- Jisung groans as the two of you cling to each other, not caring about the stickiness.

"Mhm."- you try to breathe as you lean your forehead on his shoulder.

"Can't believe I made you squirt."- he smirks and you lift up to look at him.

"Are you hard again?"- you chuckle in disbelief as you feel him grow beneath you.

"I told you I could go for more rounds."- he wiggles his eyebrows.

"Fine, let's go upstairs."- you stand up, wobbling on your feet a little and he helps you get steady.

"Really?"- he looks up at you cutely.

"Well, I'm not sleeping tonight."- you chuckle and he giggles as he lets you pull him up.

As soon as you get to your room, both of you fall into your bed and between the mess of sheets Jisung and you spend the night indulging in each other.

"I feel disgusting."- you whine 3 more rounds later as the two of you lay on your back and try to catch some breaths.

"Hey!"- he whines, smacking your thigh lightly and you laugh.

"Not like that. I mean the heat is disgusting. This really didn't help with that."- you look at him and he chuckles.

"I'd say it was worth it."- he smiles, his eyes hopeful and sparkly.

"I agree."- you nod and Jisung lifts up to give you a gentle kiss, contrast to the hungry and passionate kisses the two of you spent the night sharing.

It's almost 6am when the two of you are done cleaning up and changing the sheets.

"Are you gonna throw me out now?"- Jisung jokes as you lay down and he sits on your bed.

"Like that would work on you."- you chuckle and he laughs as he lays down.

"You know, my shift starts in two hours."- he says as he holds your hand.

"What?!"- you gasp and flick his forehead as he whines. "Why didn't you tell me you had the morning shift, you fool?"

"Well, I didn't want to lose what might've been my only chance."- he says quietly and you lean in and bite into his bicep making him yelp.

"What's that for?"- Jisung whimpers, grabbing at his arm.

"Nothing, you're just dumb and adorable. Now go to sleep."

You wake up around 11, the spot beside you empty and everything floods back into your mind, you can't believe you did all that sober.

A part of you feels embarassed but you know it was bound to happen sooner or later. Deep inside, you know you cared about Jisung a lot and you hoped he felt the same.

Losing him is unimaginable and even though he annoys you, you know you enjoy him 'bothering' you every day more than you would like to admit.

You're off work today so you finally gather the strength to clean up your whole house, and when you move your couch to vacuum, you see a little shiny lighter behind it.

You chuckle as you pick it up, it's Jisung's favorite lighter, one you covered with shiny stickers and heart doodles when both of you were high. You sigh and put it aside, wondering how Jisung will act today with you after everything that happened between the two of you last night.

You take a shower and a nap, and before long it's 5pm and your door swings open.

You're in the kitchen, finishing up on dinner as Jisung strolls in with a big smile on his face.

"Hey."- you say and he laughs as he pulls you into his arms.

"I missed you all day."- he says into your hair as he holds you tight and you wrap your arms around his dainty waist.

"Oh yeah?"- you smirk.

"Mhm."- he nuzzles into you. "I know you missed me too, admit it."- he adds and you chuckle as you both lean back to look at each other.

"Yeah, sure."- you tease him.

"I was gonna text you but um... my phone fell into the hot oil in our fryer."

"Oh my god Jisung! Stuff like that only happens to you."- you laugh and he shakes his head.

"Don't mock my troubles. I have to buy a new phone now."- he pouts.

"Why were you even looking at your phone near the hot oil?"- you chuckle, turning off the stove.

"I was... looking at your pics."- he says, his puffy cheeks rosy as he looks away.

"Ofcourse you were, you stalker."- you smack his arm. "Don't act all shy now, we're way pass that."- you add and he groans.

"You ruin every cute moment on purpose."- he pouts.

"And you bother me 24/7 but you don't hear me complain."- you tease.

"You complain all the time."- he snickers and you laugh.

"You don't mind, do you?"- you ask, hating that you feel vunerable in that moment but it's Jisung, your Jisung.

"Ofcourse I don't."- he says gently, sensing the shift in the tone and he leans closer to you, cupping your face.

"Can I kiss you?"

"I think we're way pass that too."- both of you chuckle as your lips collide in a sweet, gentle kiss.

It doesn't take much time for the kiss to get heated, and for Jisung to push you against the kitchen elements.

"Woah, calm down big boy. Dinner first."- you smirk and he laughs.

"Alright, but just because you cooked. You even cleaned up, what gives? I made you so happy last night that you were on cloud 9 today?"- he teases you and you narrow your eyes at him.

"What if I was?"- you tease back, pinching his cheek and he whines, grabbing at it dramatically.

"I was too. That's why I put my phone into the fryer instead of the fries."- he confesses and you laugh loudly, grabbing at your stomach.

"Go ahead, laugh at my misery."- Jisung says, but he's smiling too.

"Sorry, that's just such a Jisung thing to do. Like somehow your lighter ending up behind the couch."- you add, pulling the lighter out of your pocket and showing it to him.

"Oh, you found it! I knew it was somewhere around here."- he smiles as he takes it from your open palm and you can't help but wonder why he loves it so much.

"Why is it your favorite?"- you ask and he looks up at you, his eyes wide before they soften.

"Remember when I got it? Both of us had a bad day and it was raining like hell. I came to you with a baggy and you rolled a perfect joint like you always do. But, we couldn't find a lighter that was working so we had to run to the gas station in the rain like two idiots. And when we came back you let me shower here and you gave me your Sonic Youth shirt, which I know is your favorite so that was a great honor to me. To get to wear your favorite shirt that smells like you. And then you decorated the lighter when we finished smoking and you gave it to me and threatened that if I ever lost it you would kick me."- he laughs and you chuckle, your face burning and heart beating fast at the way he talked about you and that evening.

Ofcourse you remember, you remember every night with him.

"That was such a y/n thing to do."- he adds and you laugh as he grabs your hand.

"I guess it was."- you squeeze his hand lightly as you stare at each other.

"I told you I'd get in your pants."- he smirks suddenly and you roll your eyes, groaning at him.

"Ruining the moment. And it wasn't me this time."- you point at him and he laughs.

"Okay, how about this for the moment?"- he swallows and leans in closer.

"I love you, y/n. And I'm in love with you. Like so desperately. I can't stop thinking about you 24/7 and my favorite parts of the day are the parts I share with you. I know I bother you a lot and cling to you but I don't know how to stop. You're my favorite person ever. You're my person."- Jisung says and you almost melt down into a puddle.

"Don't stop bothering me ever, Ji. Because I... I love you too. And you're my favorite person in the whole world too."- you confess finally, feeling like a burden was lifted off of your heart.

"Good, because you can't get rid of me that easily."- he smirks, his lips on yours.

"Mhm."- you mutter against him, wanting to throw a witty comment back at him but he kisses you with so much emotion that any word lingering on your lips dies and you kiss back, grabbing at his shirt and pulling him closer to you.

"Hope you know I'll be spending even more time at your house now."- he smirks when you pull away.

"Ugh, I might start locking my door finally."- you joke and Jisung snorts.

"You'd forget to do it after one time."

"But you'll be there to remind me?"

"Ofcourse."

And he stays with you as he promised, selling his house a few months later and moving in with you even though it seemed like he was living there already.

More than half of his stuff was already in your house so the move in was easy. He remembered the night you talked about needing a break from everything and as soon as fall brought colder weather and less customers, the two of you planned a little trip.

You always heard that it can't get more better than having that one in a million chance to love and be loved by your favorite person in the whole world.

And you have that, you think as you smile at Jisung's silly cute face, and he looks at you mirroring your smile, making you feel like you're home with him, no matter where you are.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny

1K notes · View notes

stllmnstr · 4 months ago

Text

champagne problems: part one

pairing: jake sim x f reader

genre: enemies to lovers, rich kids au, fake dating au, college au, angst, fluff

part one word count: 15.6k

part one warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, family drama, a fatal case of second son syndrome

soundtrack: boom - dpr live / bad idea! - girl in red / blood on the floor - kuiper / calico - dpr ian / comme de garçons (like the boys) - rina sawayama / lust - chase atlantic

note: another reupload!! hope this hopeless romantic college boyfriend jake hits just as good the second time around. happy reading ♡

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The second son of a wealthy family, Jake Sim has gotten used to always standing in the shadow of his older brother. From grades to girls to talks of becoming future CEO of the Sim Corporation, he’s no stranger to coming in second place. So when an opportunity arises for Jake to finally have the one thing his brother can’t and best him once and for all, he knows he’d be a fool not to take it.

There are only two problems. The first is that the thing his brother wants so badly isn’t a thing at all. It’s you, semi-estranged daughter of the Sims’ closest and most long-standing business partner.

The second is that Jake Sim can’t fucking stand you.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Fingers wrapping around the stem of your wine glass, you sigh. Punctuality may have been a steep order for someone who you suspect is running dangerously low on both common sense and regard for others, but twenty minutes? Really?

Your eyes land on the obnoxiously ornate grandfather clock next to the hostess stand. In a restaurant with ceilings so high you can barely see them and a carefully curated ambience that practically screams old money, it blends right in. It also gives you an updated timeframe on your would-be date’s tardiness.

Scratch that – thirty minutes.

Pulling out your phone, the absence of any new notifications is almost as annoying as whatever threadbare excuse you’re sure your date will offer you when he arrives. Glancing at the door, it remains devoid of any new patrons. Or perhaps rather if he arrives.

You’re running near empty on both pinot noir and patience, and you use the distraction of your phone to make you seem a little less pathetic. As if this entire restaurant isn’t already privy to the fact that you’re actively being stood up.

Well, you think wryly, at least you look good doing it. The off white ensemble you selected for the evening is Chanel, and vintage, at that. Usually you wouldn’t pull out all the stops like this for something as flimsy as a first date, but men like James Sim have an eye for this kind of thing.

Four years your senior, he’s already carving out a name for himself at twenty-five. You suppose it is a little less impressive, though, when the name he was born with already carries a legacy of its own in the business world you usually do your very best to stay out of. Rumor has it he’s already a shoo-in for the next CEO of his father’s company. When nepotism is that blatant, you can’t do much but scoff and raise a glass to it.

Scrambling for something to do to make your wasted time pass a bit quicker, you search up the social media profile of your would-be date. Honestly, you doubt you would learn anything more substantial about him if he actually bothered to show up than you will from scanning over his feed. In your experience, men like that tend to make up for their success on paper by lacking an actual personality and any sort of self-awareness.

Gym selfie. Scroll. Gym selfie from a slightly different angle. Scroll. Dog photo. Pausing, you suppress a small smile. The dog in the picture is pretty cute, if nothing else. Zooming in slightly, your eyes crinkle at the way the dog’s tongue lolls out of its open mouth in a grin. Well, at least he’s got that going for him, you suppose. A cute dog is enough to bump any guy’s ranking up a few points in your book.

If James Sim is nothing but a sum of his social media profile, it’s not like you expected anything else. After all, this is the heir to the Sim Corporation, a golden boy that was born with a crown on his head and a gold spoon in his mouth. Everything he’s earned has been laid out for him in painstakingly placed steps. His entire life has been guided by a heavy hand and the knowledge that he would one day inherit everything that makes his family worth knowing.

You probably wouldn’t be too concerned with showing up to first dates on time, either. Especially since you doubt he’s ever been denied a second.

Tonight is nothing but a blip on a radar, you’re sure. Something for a secretary to schedule and him to notice a day or five late. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone on his team will send a consolatory bouquet once he does realize the mistake. He is still building his reputation, after all, and you could use a fresh set of flowers for your apartment.

With another slightly pitiful sigh and a final swig of wine, your glass is empty and your optimism is shot. A second glance at the clock says that thirty-eight minutes have now elapsed since your scheduled meeting time. And in your opinion, that’s thirty-nine too late for a first date.

Retrieving your coat from the back of your chair, you figure tonight will be remembered as nothing but a waste of a good outfit. Besides, you suppose forty minutes of aimless scrolling is ultimately less painful than the inevitable headache this date surely would have been had he bothered to actually show up.

Suddenly, you frown. You won’t complain if this date never actually happens, but you may end up with a slight problem. Although you haven’t been on the best of terms with your mother in a long time, tonight was meant to be the final bullet point on a list of favors you owe her.

As you pull your coat on, you consider the best way to frame the events of the evening. Lean into the whole ‘getting stood up’ thing in an effort to earn some sympathy points? Lay out the facts in their most basic form, timestamps included? Emphasize the fact that you waited long past the obligatory twenty minutes for him to actually show up? Or leave your message chain as it currently is, tell her nothing at all, and let her assume what she wants?

They’re all equally iffy, you think. Risky in their own regard.

Signing your name at the bottom of the check, you scribble in a generous tip for the waitress who did her best to check on you often without making it obvious that she knew you were expecting company that never arrived, expertly skirting that line between overbearing and empathetic. At least someone will go home happy, you think, adding an extra zero for good measure.

Exiting the restaurant, you decide to make it two people. James Sim may be a hotshot at his father’s company, but you’ll be damned before you let him ruin your evening. Before you order the Uber back to your place, you add an extra stop at your favorite sushi place. Takeout in the comfort of your own home will certainly be easier to enjoy than whatever Michelin-Star concoction you would have ordered here anyway, eaten in small bites between forced conversation topics, awkward pauses, and too long sips of wine.

And an hour later, you’re polishing off the last piece of an absolutely divine rainbow roll, wearing nothing but silk pajamas and a face mask, with old reruns of your favorite show playing on the TV when James Sim finally glances down at the Rolex on his wrist. He’s finally arrived at the tail end of a meeting that’s running so far behind schedule he has half a mind to just walk out of it. He would, too, if his father wouldn’t actually threaten his life for it.

It’s late, James realizes. Stupid late. So late that he won’t have the time or energy to do anything but pass out by the time he gets home, which really sucks, because he was genuinely looking forward to his date tonight–

“Fuck.”

All he can do is curse, even as the shocked faces of a concerning number of top executives turn to look at him all at the same time.

…

Jake Sim is about to fail his econ midterm.

It will be at least a week before grades are released, but he already knows it. He can already feel it in the way the questions start to swim in his mind, making less and less sense the more he turns them over, in the way his gut fills with dread as the minute hand of the clock at the front of the lecture hall ticks closer and closer to the testing time limit.

And it wouldn’t be that bad, if it weren’t his second time repeating this course.

Oh, his father is going to have an absolute field day with this one. Jake can practically hear it now.

“You failed your midterm? After already failing this course twice? You know, James was actually the top scoring student in his economic section. Dr. Jeong still mentions his term paper every time I see him at the university…”

And that’s if he’s in a good mood. Or rather, if things at the company are going well. Jake doesn’t even want to consider the comments he’ll be on the receiving end of if the news of his failure finds his father already agitated.

Exhaling, he gives his exam one final once-over, scanning for completion more than accuracy. His brain is so fried that he knows it’s of little use to him now. For his own sake, the best thing to do at this point is turn his test in and send a silent prayer to whoever might be listening on his way out the door.

Leaving the lecture hall behind him, Jake puts his phone out of airplane mode and frowns at the two notifications that pop up on his screen. The first is a missed call from his brother, and the second is a message from the same sender, requesting that he give him a call when he has the chance.

Considering that it’s neither his birthday nor a major holiday, Jake is more than a little confused. Regardless, he honors the request, pressing his phone to his ear as he begins the walk back to his apartment. Although it’s significantly less spacious than his childhood home, he finds it far more welcoming in more ways than one.

The outgoing call rings once, twice, three times. Jake is about to be annoyed at the missed connection, but his brother answers in the moments just before he’s sent to voicemail.

“Hey, Jake.” Shocking. He actually bothered to check the caller ID.

“Hey.” Jake’s voice is careful, guarded. It’s not like his personal life is of any importance to his older brother, but he’s not in the mood to answer any questions. He won’t give James any reasons to ask. “I saw your message.”

“Right.” Jake can hear the shuffle of other voices, scattered movements coming from the other line. James sounds busy. Just like always. Usually, that would usually mean he’s distracted. But Jake has the odd feeling that he has his brother’s undivided attention when James adds, “I have a favor to ask you.”

Immediately, Jake’s stomach drops. There are very few things in this world that are not within James Sim’s grasp, and even less that are within Jake’s, relatively speaking. Whatever it is, he must be desperate, if he’s willing to enlist the help of his little brother.

“Okay.” Jake’s voice betrays none of his sudden anxieties. “What is it?”

At least James spares him the agony of suspense. “You know ___, right?”

Jake frowns. Sure, he knows of you. Just like he has a vague idea of every one of his family’s business partners and their immediate kin. Particularly the ones that are the same age as him and attend the same university. But it’s not like he’s close with you, not like he’s ever had an actual conversation of any substance with you.

Especially since the minimal interactions the two of you have had did not leave Jake wanting more. The only child of parents whose last name is on the front of the most successful law firm within a thousand mile radius, you strike him as everything he’d expect you to be.

Spoiled. Entitled. Vapid. Out of touch with any version of reality that doesn’t consist of you getting everything you want at the exact moment you want it. He supposes it’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, considering his own upbringing, but he’d like to think that he’s earned what he’s been given, at least partially. Especially since most of it has been his brother’s hand-me-downs. And it’s not like his father has ever been in the habit of doing him any favors that don’t come wrapped in criticism, comparison, and disdain.

Although rumor does have it you and your mother haven’t been on speaking terms since you left for university, Jake imagines it’s probably because you wanted to bring the limited edition Versace to campus with you, and she insisted it would be safer at home.

Oh, well. Whatever designer dispute happened between you and your mother is no skin off his back. Jake has his own problems to worry about.

One of them being his brother’s question that still lingers on the other line.

Weighing responses in his head, Jake finally settles on, “I guess.” It’s his best attempt at being noncommittal.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t do anything to dissuade his brother. “Do you have her number by chance? My secretary should have taken it down, but she can’t find it anywhere.”

Jake balks, footsteps faltering. An equally distracted student walking behind him nearly stumbles right into his back. Wordlessly, Jake sends them an apologetic look before clarifying, “Her number? Like, her personal phone number?”

“What other kind of number is there?” And there’s the James that Jake knows. Annoyed at the perceived incompetencies of his younger brother, just as always.

Suddenly, Jake’s patience is running short too. James is the one asking for a favor and still has the gall to be annoyed with him. Typical. Jake’s words are clipped when he says, “No, I don’t have ___’s phone number.”

Jake expects that to be the end of it, but his brother won’t let it go so easily.

“Seriously? Don’t you two go to the same school?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Right, because I have the entire student body on speed dial.”

There’s a pause on the other end. Jake half expects his brother to just hang up on him. After all, he’s never been able to take what he gets, to swallow what he dishes out.

What Jake does not expect, however, is the way James sounds so tentative when he speaks again. “Well…”

“Well what?” Patience already running thin, it’s all he can do not to snap.

“Do you think you could get it for me?”

Jake must be dreaming. This must be a post-exam punishment, a hallucination brought on by over exerting his brain too far for too long. “Do I think I could get ___’s phone number for you?” he repeats flatly.

“Is there an echo in here?” Asshole. At least he’s consistent.

“Just an echo chamber,” Jake mutters away from the receiver.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Jake stops for a moment to fiddle with his keyring as he walks up the stairs to his apartment. “No, I can’t get her phone number for you.”

“Why not?”

The key won’t line up quite right. Jake tries again, frustration seeping through. “Because I have better things to do than run stupid errands for you. Why don’t you drive here and get it yourself?”

“Trust me, if I thought she’d give it to me, I’d be there in an hour.”

The lock on his door finally clicks open, and Jake all but throws his bag down after kicking off his shoes. “And what the hell makes you think she’d give it to me?”

“Well, you didn’t accidentally stand her up, for one.” James doesn’t sound embarrassed by it. Just matter-of-fact. Like a date is nothing but a business deal. Something to be rescheduled and redone if negotiations go sour the first time around.

It is enough to stir up some of Jake’s curiosity, though. “You went on a date with ___?” He supposes it makes sense. Even if the rumor mill and its rumblings about your rocky relationship with your mother ring true, you’re still your parents’ daughter. Still a perfect match on paper for the future CEO of the Sim Corporation. The king of a company and princess of a law firm. It’s a match made in heaven, he thinks ruefully.

“No, I didn’t. That’s kind of the whole point here.”

“Whatever.” Jake still doesn’t see what the hell he has to do with all this. “Why don’t you just look up her parents’ number in the company database and get it from them?”

Jake can practically feel his brother’s exasperation through the phone. “Right, because that would go over really well. Hi there," he imitates. “I’d like to make your daughter the mother of my future children. Care to pass along her phone number so I can get started on that?”

Jake suppresses a wince. “Jesus. I see why she stood you up.”

“She didn’t. I stood her up,” James clarifies. “On accident.”

Semantics. And not ones that Jake is interested in. “Either way. I’m not getting her number for you.”

“Yeah?” Jake is unsettled by the way there’s still no trace of defeat in his brother’s voice. There’s something almost sinister when he suddenly switches topics. “How are classes going?”

Jake’s lips pull into a taut line, disaster of an econ midterm still fresh on his mind. “Fine.”

“Really? Even econ? Third time’s the charm and all that?” Well, at least his brother can be counted on to consistently be an asshole.

“Why do you care?” The only thing Jake wants to do is end this call and crawl into bed for a well-deserved afternoon nap. Let his subconscious spare him from thoughts of his older brother and econ and you for at least a little bit.

James has other plans. “You must have taken the midterm recently, right?” Jake’s silence is confirmation enough. “You know, the only thing Dr. Jeong weighs more heavily than the midterm is the final paper at the end of the semester.”

A minute ago, Jake thought you were the last thing he wanted to talk about. The sudden shift in direction in this conversation is starting to prove him wrong. If there’s one thing Jake would rather discuss even less than his older brother’s dating life, it’s school. “What does that have to do with a–”

“And I think I still have my copy of the paper that earned me the top score in my entire section.” The smugness is practically palpable. “I might have to do some digging, but I’m sure it’s in my old files somewhere.”

Jake rolls his eyes, wishes the immediate comparison weren’t the first thing to rise to the forefront of his mind. Wishes it didn’t find him so lacking. Wishes it wasn’t narrated in the voice of his disappointed father. “If you’re trying to gloat, it’s n–”

“I’m trying to strike a deal. Jesus, no wonder you’re on track to be a super senior getting a business degree.”

“This is my third year,” Jake defends indignantly.

“And your third attempt at econ, which I passed in my first year.” He sounds like he’s settling a little too well into the CEO role when he proposes, “I’m trying to make it your last attempt.”

Jake would be lying if he said his curiosity weren’t piqued, even just slightly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, little brother, that my term paper, my notes, all of it, are yours.” It sounds too good to be true. It has to be too good to be true. James is a lot of things, but generous and helpful are very rarely any of them. “As soon as you get me ___’s number.” And there it is.

Jake hangs up without bothering to dignify that with a response and hopes it sends a strong enough signal of his refusal. Then, he falls into his bed face-first with a groan.

And a week later, when his econ midterm results are finally posted, the first thing Jake does is let his head fall on his desk with an alarmingly loud thud that has Jay poking his head in the door to make sure everything’s okay. The second thing he does, a solid twenty minutes later, is send his older brother a text.

Jake [7:21pm]: You better start digging through those old files.

…

All things considered, you’re easier to track down than Jake expects. The university campus is big, and judging from the way he can’t remember ever seeing you in a class, the two of you don’t share a major. But the similarities in your social status mean you’re bound to run in some of the same circles, and Jake is able to use this to his advantage.

Ultimately, it takes very little digging on his part. First, he mentions your name to Jay in the middle of an upper body superset in the university gym. Jay frowns, setting the weights back on the rack.

“That name sounds familiar. I think maybe Heeseung knows her?”

That tidbit takes him to Wednesday night, which always finds Jake in the library at a statistics study group Heeseung also makes a habit of attending. On their way out for the evening, Jake stops him by the door.

“___?” Heeseung pauses for a moment in contemplation. “I’m pretty sure she’s friends with Sunghoon.”

And the third piece of the puzzle proves a bit more difficult to click into place. Sunghoon is harder for Jake to find, at least in a way that comes across naturally. Much like yours, Park Sunghoon is a name Jake hears in passing more than anything. He’s a friend of friends, a mutual acquaintance that Jake has never really had a conversation with and certainly doesn’t know well enough to interrogate for your phone number.

But his most recent midterm score is still looming over his head, and the thought of retaking econ again is so nightmarish it sends a shiver down his spine every time he considers it. At this point, there isn’t much Jake wouldn’t put on the line to pass the damn class. Including his pride, apparently.

So when Jake hears from Jay who hears from Heeseung that Sunghoon will probably be at the party Epsilon Nu Eta is throwing this Friday night, he starts to formulate a plan.

And he starts to regret said plan less than twenty-four hours later when he finds himself on the doorstep of a frat party. A frat party. He can’t remember the last time he came to one of these things. At twenty-one, he already feels geriatric as he tugs self-consciously at the sleeves of the plan black long sleeve he put on for the occasion. Something that will hopefully hide the questionable stains he’ll inevitably leave with.

Entering through the front door with hinges that don’t align quite right, Jake has one mission in mind: find Park Sunghoon. Find him and somehow convince him to pass along your number. There’s a fine line to be walked there, Jake thinks. If he comes across as too eager, it will just be creepy. Nonchalance is the name of the game, but he’s never been good at keeping his cards close to his chest.

For Jake, it’s a tall order, which means the only detour he’ll allow himself is grabbing a cup of lukewarm beer from the kitchen before he sets out looking for Sunghoon. The alcohol is an effort to break the barrier of his inhibitions more than anything. To make what he’s about to do feel a little less painful.

Making his way out of the kitchen, Jake wanders aimlessly for a few minutes. He doesn’t know much about Sunghoon, other than the fact that he competes for your university’s figure skating team and is undeniably handsome. A good-looking figure skater, Jake thinks as he turns down yet another crowded hallway, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink. Where would one of those be hiding?

He spends a few more awkward minutes asking around to no avail. Just when he’s on the verge of saying fuck it and making some sort of sacrifice to the econ gods instead, Jake bumps into the man of the hour on his way to the bathroom.

In the chaos, Jake doesn’t recognize him until it’s almost too late. “Hey,” Jake calls out, bladder all but forgotten for now. He’s trying to fake an air of coolness when he adds, “Sunghoon, right?”

“Yeah.” Jake thanks his lucky stars that Sunghoon must be at least two drinks in, because he doesn’t seem weirded out at all by the sudden question from a near stranger.

“I’m Jake.” He reaches his arm out for a handshake. Blinking, Sunghoon just stares at his outstretched hand as long, awkward moments bleed into each other. Eventually, Jake just lets it fall back to his side. “I’m, uh, in a statistics class with Heeseung.”

“Right on,” Sunghoon nods, still unsure if this conversation has a point to it. Luckily, the pleasant haze clouding his thoughts means he doesn’t mind too much either way.

Jake figures there’s no point in dragging this out by exchanging more pleasantries, and he has the feeling Sunghoon might start forgetting his own name, much less yours, if he lets this continue for too long.

“Listen,” Jake starts, trying to sound as not creepy as possible. “I heard that you know ___ pretty well.”

Sunghoon just shrugs. Jake can’t tell if he’s succeeded. “You could say that.”

“I know this is a strange request, but, uh,” Jake scratches the side of his head, “is there any chance I could get her number? I promise not to do anything weird.” Word vomiting, the extra details are spilling out before he can stop them. “It’s not even for me, actually–”

Sunghoon spares him the rest of a rambling explanation. “Sorry, bud. No can do.”

Jake’s stomach tightens in panic. He really, really just needs your phone number. It has him forgetting his earlier inhibitions, throwing caution to the wind even if he’s making a bit of a fool of himself in the process. “It’s for something important, actually. I’m kind of desperate–”

Sunghoon just puts a consolatory hand on Jake’s shoulder, interrupting his train of thought. “Look, man, it’s nothing against you personally, but I have literally never met you in my life. Besides, if I gave out ___’s number to every random guy that asked, I’m pretty sure she’d shave my head.” Sunghoon leans in close, like he’s about to share a secret. Jake’s nose twists at the scent of alcohol on his breath. “And between you and me, I don’t think I could pull off being bald.”

Jake kind of begs to differ, but that’s neither here nor there. He opens his mouth to plead his case again, but Sunghoon doesn’t even let him get a word out.

“Sorry, man, but I really can’t help you.” Pausing for a moment, he considers. “You said your name was Jacob, though, right?” He doesn’t pause long enough for Jake to correct him. “I could ask her if she’s cool with giving you her number–”

“Whose number are you giving out?” And if Jake thought this conversation wasn’t enough of a train wreck already, trust the timing of your entrance to be more disastrous than divine.

Eyes turning to you and your sudden intrusion on the conversation, Jake’s mind goes blank for a minute. And yeah, he kinda gets why his brother’s so hellbent on having a second chance at your time. Dressed in all black, your hair is loose around your face. Even though it likely costs more than most people’s monthly paycheck, there’s nothing inherently special about what you’re wearing. Still, Jake is finding it exceedingly difficult to look away.

It’s something in your aura, he thinks. In the way you carry yourself. Something that money can’t buy. Something that makes his gaze want to linger.

“___!” Sunghoon grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, wobbling slightly. You jostle at the sudden impact, inching away from where the contents of his cup slosh dangerously close to the rim. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”

Your brow creases in confusion. Jake tracks the miniscule movement with parted lips.

“You were?”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon confirms, just at the same moment Jake shakes his head, “No.”

Turning your mildly concerned gaze away from your friend, you glance at Jake for the first time. Brow furrowing further, you cock your head to the side as your lips part in partial recognition. He looks oddly familiar, but you can’t quite place him. “Do I know you?”

“No.” Jake shakes his head again, a little too fervently. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. At least not properly.”

It’s an odd way of putting it. You’re about to ask him to clarify when Sunghoon cuts in, clearing up the confusion for you. “It’s Jacob,” he says, as if that should mean anything to you. Turning back to the boy across from him, he adds, “Jacob Sim, right?”

And that clicks things into place.

“Sim?” you echo, realization dawning on your features.

“Yep,” Sunghoon confirms.

Across from you, Jake says nothing. He doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. In fact, he’s pretty sure his life is flashing before his eyes.

“Sim,” you repeat one final time, jaw ticking in agitation as everything starts to settle. “I do know you.”

“Oh, really?” Sunghoon asks at your side, oblivious to the way your tone betrays obvious animosity. A distaste so palpable Jake can practically feel it radiating off of you. Turning back to Jake, he’s apologetic. “Sorry, Jacob. I guess I could have given you her number, then.” Sunghoon smiles sheepishly, as if he hasn’t just made things a million times worse. “My bad.”

Jake’s eyes widen in horror as he scrambles for some sort of defense, an explanation that will dig him out of this rapidly deepening hole, but you beat him to it.

“My number?” The look you give him has a concerning amount of venom in it. “Seriously? God, why are all you Sim men so obsessed with me?”

“That’s not–”

“First your brother views my LinkedIn profile twenty-three times after standing me up, and now you’re harassing my friends for my phone number?”

“Hold on. I’m not harassing anyone–”

“No,” Sunghoon agrees, nodding diplomatically. “Jacob was perfectly pleasant–”

“It’s Jake, actually.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, just Jake.”

“Sorry,” Sunghoon apologizes. Turning to you, he tries mediating again. “Well, like I said, just Jake was perfectly pleasant–”

“I don’t care how pleasant he is.” Your glare somehow becomes icier. “Leave me alone, and tell your dickhead brother to do the same.” Muttering to yourself more than anything, you add, “The last thing I need right now is you practically stalking me–”

“Stalking you?” Jake flounders, an edge of annoyance creeping into his tone. He’s not surprised to learn that you really do think the world revolves around you, but really? Stalking? “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not like I’m enjoying this interaction any more than you are.”

You don’t back down, crossing your arms over your chest. The movement has Sunghoon teetering dangerously where he leans on you, but you pay him no mind, attention focused solely on the man in front of you. “Then why do you want my phone number so bad?”

“Like I was trying to say earlier when you wouldn’t let me get a word out sideways,” Jake bites, “it’s not for me. I made a deal with someone, and I told them I’d give them your number.”

Your gaze narrows. “Who?”

“What?”

“Who did you make a deal with?”

Jake hesitates, knowing how the truth will sound. Screw it – a lie would likely be just as damning. Still, it takes him another pregnant pause to eventually admit, “... My brother.”

Scoffing in disbelief, you double down on your ire. “Absolutely not.” Shaking Sunghoon off your shoulder, you turn to leave, dragging him with you. Jake’s eyes close; he can’t bear to watch his last chance at passing this semester leave him in the dust.

So much so that he pleads again, “Wait, ___. Please.” Jake is begging now, and he feels a little pathetic for it. Still, he can’t help the way desperation drives him to continue. “You can block him for all I care. I can’t explain everything, but my life is quite literally in your hands right now. I just need–”

“No.” The single syllable vibrates with finality. “Do I have to spell it for you? N-” you bite, enunciating so sharply Jake thinks you might draw blood. “O. No. I’m not giving my number to you or your flake of a brother or anyone else that so much as looks like they might have the name Sim.”

God, is the only think Jake can think as he miserably watches your retreating figure, Sunghoon stumbling along as you drag him with you. I am so fucked.

…

When Sunghoon finally emerges from your guest bedroom an hour before noon the next day, it’s to ask if you’d be kind enough to spare him some Advil. Even with a bad case of bedhead and the aftermath of overconsumption, he still manages to look good, albeit a little lifeless.

“I’ll do you one better,” you tell him, but reach for the small white bottle anyway, shaking out a few tablets and offering them to your best friend along with a glass of cold water.

“Bagels and coffee?” Sunghoon asks over the rim of his glass, with a little more alertness in his eyes than there was moments before.

“Bagels and coffee,” you confirm. A tried and true hangover cure, if there ever was one. And even though your head is feeling nice and clear, thanks to your trusty two drink limit that has yet to fail you, the local cafe a block from your apartment is very rarely something you turn down.

Thirty minutes later and a change of clothes later, the two of you are trading gossip and stealing bites of each other’s orders when the other person isn’t looking at the table in the back corner of the cafe. Sunghoon is just about to stuff another piece of your bagel in his mouth when he notices yet another notification light up the screen of your phone.

Sunghoon nods towards where it rests on the table, bagel suddenly forgotten. “Is that your mom again?”

“Yep.” Your lips stretch thin. You don’t even need to glance down at your phone to confirm. She’s been blowing up your notifications all weekend. “She’s been on my ass about the upcoming fundraiser event for days now. And reminding me about the utmost importance of bringing an appropriate plus-one.”

Across from you, Sunghoon straightens his shoulders. “I suppose it is about time I bust out the trusty old prom suit again.”

You sigh, sending your half-eaten bagel a forlorn glance. “I wish. She told me if I ever bring you again, I lose half my trust fund.”

“What?” Sunghoon looks affronted. “Why?”

You level him with a look. “Does soap ring a bell?”

Sunghoon splutters in indignation. “That was one time,” he defends. “And anyone would have thought those were edible! They were shaped like candies, and they were on a platter–”

“Soap presentation aside, I don’t think that excuse will work on her.” The dejection in your voice is apparent. “Besides, she’s already made it very clear that you’re explicitly forbidden from attending any future family events as my plus-one.”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles. “Keep all your stupid inedible soaps.” Pausing for a moment, he realizes that still leaves a giant question hanging in the air. “Who are you gonna bring, then? You know, it kind of is too bad your date with Sim number one didn’t pan out.”

You shrug, pointedly ignoring the way your phone screen lights up yet again. It really is a bit of a shame James turned out to be an unreliable flake. One that still hasn’t bothered to apologize to you or even give any sort of indication that he remembered your scheduled date. Still, you can’t think of anyone that would earn your mother’s approval faster. “I’ll probably just fake a stomach flu.” After all, you’re kind of out of options. “I thought about asking Jungwon, but he’s got stuff going on for his internship that night. A big economics conference or something.”

“Speaking of economics,” Sunghoon leans in conspiratorially. “I think I might have some intel on our new friend from last night.”

“How was economics the segue you went with? We were literally just talking about his older brother.” Giving him a look of disbelief, you add, “And what about that interaction gave you the impression that we’re friends?”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon brushes you off before he continues, “Anyway, I heard from Heeseung who heard from Jay that apparently little Sim is hot garbage at economics. Rumor has it he’s already failed the class twice and is on track to do it again.”

You’re not sure why he’s deemed this information relevant to you, but you’d be lying if you said it weren’t a little amusing.

“Really? Jungwon’s taking it now too, and he said that he sleeps through half the lectures and is still pulling an A.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be prodigies.”

Your lips flatten. “Pretty sure you don’t have to be a prodigy to not fail an entry level course three times.”

“Hey, cut him some slack,” Sunghoon argues. “He’s only failed it twice as of now.”

You scoff, entirely uninterested in the gory details of Jake Sim’s academic failures. “Whatever.”

“Either way,” Sunghoon says, “Jay told Heeseung who told me that’s why he’s so desperate for your number.” Confusion makes itself known on your features. You still don’t see the connection until Sunghoon adds, “Apparently he made some sort of deal with his brother that if he gets him your phone number, he’ll help him pass econ.”

A beat of silence passes between you. The barista at the counter calls out a customer’s name. It’s all you can do to not let your jaw physically drop open, mostly because–

“That is probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Glaring at Sunghoon, you can’t believe the theatrics of it all. “How many times have I told you to stop believing everything Heeseung says?”

“Technically, Jay said it,” Sunghoon corrects. “And I don’t know... It kind of makes sense when you think about it.”

You beg to differ. “It absolutely does not. What is this, middle school? Are we passing notes behind the teacher’s back and making our friends ask our crushes if they like us back?” It’s ridiculous. Absolutely, utterly ridiculous.

There is no way. Absolutely no way that James Sim, heir to a multimillion dollar company, is wasting his time giving his little brother an economics cheat sheet in exchange for your phone number.

Sunghoon raises his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I just thought you might be curious.”

And you hate to admit it, but you kind of are. Even though every ounce of logic you’ve accumulated in twenty-one years of life tells you that Heeseung is a notorious gossip whose stories are just as much fiction as reality and your best friend is no better. Even though the whole thing makes absolutely no sense at all.

Even though you repeat it to yourself over and over for the rest of the day, that damn curiosity is still there. Pestering you and disturbing your sleep and leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, some things are entirely too ridiculous to be anything but true.

…

On Wednesday night, Jake and Heeseung are in the middle of a particularly brutal probability set when a sudden shadow looms over their favorite corner table on the third floor of the library.

Glancing up, Jake finds Heeseung’s gaze already trained somewhere over his shoulder. Jake can’t quite tell if the look on his face is confusion or terror.

“Mind if I join?” The request comes from behind him, posed in an oddly familiar voice. Heeseung is nodding in agreement before Jake has the chance to so much as turn around and identify the intruder.

All is revealed soon enough, though, when you slide down into the seat next to him, ignoring the way Heeseung scrambles to move his things and make room for you in the seat next to him. Instead, you busy yourself with setting your bag on the floor and pulling out your laptop.

It’s all Jake can do to stare at you blankly. This evening, you’ve traded the all black outfit from the other night’s party for something a bit more casual, something comfortable that blends in better to the background of a university library. The sudden proximity also means that the scent of your perfume is quick to waft over towards him.

Jake does his best to hold his breath before his brain can trick him into thinking he likes it.

“Stop looking at me like that.” A bold request for someone who just hijacked a study session and sat down with no explanation, but Jake wouldn’t expect anything less from you.

“Like what?” The words are out before he gives them permission. Across the table, Heeseung is staring too, but all three of you know the command isn’t for him.

“I don’t know.” Glancing at the battery bar hovering just above empty, you dig around in your bag for a moment for your laptop charger. Jake notes that you still have yet to look at him. Instead, you begin to busy yourself with typing something on your computer. “Just stop it.”

He hopes you can feel the way his eyes burn holes into the side of your head as his blank stare shifts into a glare.

Heeseung glances between the two of you. His outburst is sudden. “Oh! I just remembered.” He hits his head for good measure. The acting is wasted on this audience, though. Neither of you pay him any mind or even bother to glance in his direction. “I have to go, uh…” he trails off, finishing lamely with a rather flat, “somewhere else.”

“Great.” Your eyes don’t leave your screen, fingers still flying on your keyboard. “See you later.”

As Heeseung scrambles to pack up his unfinished statistics homework and high tail it out of the library, the air that has suddenly become stifling, Jake glances down at where your fingers are still moving.

Distractedly, he wonders how you can type so fast with nails that long, how you never seem to need the backspace key. How none of the pastel pink that coats your fingernails seems to be so much as chipped. A projection of perfection, he thinks, down to every last detail.

Moments pass, neither of you saying anything.

You still haven’t looked at him by the time you do eventually break the impasse. “I heard you suck at econ.”

And Jake actually cannot believe you. “Did you seriously hunt me down just to rub it in?”

“Rub it in?” That at least earns him some of your attention, even if it is just a brief, confused glance as your fingers pause in their typing. “It’s not like I’m the reason you can’t pass.”

“Believe it or not, you quite literally are.”

You sigh, removing your hands from your keyboard entirely. Then, before he can blink, you spin your entire body in your chair, eyes, shoulders, and knees all directly trained on him. Jake can’t help the way he flinches back a few inches at the sudden change in pace.

“Look,” you start. He can already tell by the way you wrap the single syllable sound in patronization that he’s not going to appreciate whatever you’re about to say. “I can tell that you’re not used to, like, having conversations with people, but usually what happens is you give someone enough information so that they know what you’re talking about.” He’s right.

And he’s quick to defend himself. “Maybe I could, if you’d let me get three words out without interr–”

But you’ve moved on already. “Is the whole ‘deal with your brother’ thing true?”

Jake lets the silence linger for a moment, looking at you in disbelief. “You literally just proved my point.”

You roll your eyes. “I knew what you were going to say, so I sped things along. Now answer my question.” You lay it out for him again. This time, even more directly. “Did you try to get my number because of some deal you made with your brother?”

He’s not sure why it sounds so ridiculous, narrated back to him in your voice. It’s not like it was a brilliant, foolproof plan to begin with, but the way you present it has him feeling about five inches tall.

“I…”

“It’s a yes or no question.” You really don’t beat around the bush, he thinks.

“Yes, okay?”

Looking behind you, you suddenly lean in a little closer. It’s all Jake can do not to flinch back again. Bringing your hand up to cup your mouth, it’s like you’re about to divulge a terrible secret when you whisper, “You’re that bad at econ?”

Jake just sighs. “Worse, probably.”

Frowning, you pull back a few inches. “Aren’t you a business major? Isn’t econ, like, pretty important for you?” If he were thinking clearly, Jake might wonder how you know that. But that only thing his mind has space for right now is annoyance. At you, at this exchange, at the way you so easily pick through his flaws and seem to have no problem laying them bare at his feet like he doesn't already know them intimately.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I got any say in my major,” Jake counters. He might have more patience for this conversation if he were having it with anyone but you, if you weren’t throwing his own insecurities back in his face with every follow-up question.

At that, something flickers through your eyes. Sympathy, maybe. “Fair enough.” Whatever it is, it’s gone before he can identify it. And it’s not enough to make you pull your punches. “Still though, that’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Jake doesn’t need the reminder. “Just get a tutor like everyone else.”

The thing is, Jake has thought about it. On more than one occasion. He’s even gotten so far as filling out the university tutor request form. He just could never quite bring himself to complete the ‘Name’ field without all of the potential consequences forcing him to hit backspace.

He might not be his brother, but he’s not stupid enough to think that his family would ever be okay with the Sim name anywhere near a tutor form. He tells you as much. “And listen to my dad tell me how much of a disappointment I am for not being able to even take a class on my own?” Jake laughs humorlessly. “No thanks.”

A beat passes. Two. You’re not done yet, but you at least have the decency to sound a little apologetic, a little tentative when you say, “Not to kick you while you’re down or anything, but I mean, that has to be better than failing twice.”

Jake just shakes his head. “You don’t know my father.”

You shrug but don’t press the matter further. Truth be told, you don’t know his father, but you do know fathers like him. You have one of your own. The third floor of the library doesn’t seem like the place for that conversation, though, even if you’ve already uncovered more than your fair share of each other’s secrets in the last ten minutes. “I guess not.”

…

Your phone is buzzing far too incessantly for a Saturday morning, much less this early on a Saturday morning. Internally, you curse Friday night you, who forgot to switch it into do not disturb before falling asleep. Face still buried in your pillow, you reach around your nightstand blindly with the intention of remedying that particular mistake and enjoying a few more moments of peace.

Before you can make good on your plan, you make the fatal mistake of reading the message preview before silencing your phone. And suddenly, to your neverending annoyance, you’re wide awake.

Mom [7:36 am]: Looking forward to seeing you next Saturday at the fundraiser.

Mom [7:37 am]: I also noticed that you haven’t indicated who you’ll be bringing yet. Please fill out the RSVP form when you have a moment.

Mom [7:45 am]: James Sim hasn’t RSVP’d yet. Are you bringing him? You should invite him if you haven’t already.

Mom [7:53 am]: I also never heard the update after your date a few weeks ago. Hoping no news is good news. I just spoke with his father the other day, and it sounds like he’s doing great things over at their company.

Mom [8:01 am]: I also heard that he volunteered a few summers ago rebuilding turtle habitats. Wow! I think you two would get along very well.

Groaning, you flip your phone back over. That about sums up how well she knows her only daughter, you think ruefully. If she thought wooing you with turtles was a good idea, she must have forgotten that you’ve had a lingering phobia of the freaky little reptiles since your friend from elementary school had a pet turtle that bit your finger when you were at her house.

Besides, you have serious doubts that’s actually how James Sim spent his last summer in university.

If memories from your social media scrolling serve correctly, rebuilding turtle habitats was code for partying on a yacht for a month straight. You don’t care how he spends his free time, but the way he already has your mother wrapped around his stupid finger is enough to annoy any lingering sleepiness out of your system.

Whatever. James Sim’s white lies are the least of your concerns now, and they certainly won’t solve your problems. If anything, you’re starting to regret not telling your mother anything about your failed attempt at a first date with him. Now, trying to explain that disaster of an evening would only sound like an excuse at best and a flimsy lie at worst.

And even if she did believe you, you still have the glaring issue of next Saturday and your lack of a pre-approved plus-one.

With one final groan, you pull your blanket over your face, trying and failing to banish any thoughts of your mother, James Sim, and the certain disaster next weekend will be.

Despite your best efforts, your worries linger. They follow you into Sunday; they start to make you desperate on Monday. With a diminishing handful of days left until the fundraiser, your anxiety only surges.

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you’re so stressed out that you can barely force your eyes to focus on the nearly blank Word document in front of you, all of the legalese and case details you can usually sort through in your sleep jumbling into one incomprehensible blob.

Halfway through your third reread of a paragraph that details the basics of copyright law, it strikes you. The seedling of an idea so utterly ridiculous it just might be your saving grace.

Your mother probably, definitely, couldn’t care less about James Sim’s so-called affinity for wildlife rescue. No, the only thing that makes him an appropriate candidate in her eyes for this Saturday has nothing to do with his personality at all.

It’s his name that she likes. His family name specifically.

In the middle of your favorite cafe, it hits you. The seedling of an idea sprouts roots, begins to bloom.

If one Sim is good enough to be your plus-one, then surely the other one would be too.

And you know exactly where he’ll be tonight. Glancing down at the time on your phone, you force your brain to think. Now, all you need is a plan. A way to convince him. Something he can’t refuse.

Closing the lid of your laptop, you smile. You know exactly what it is he wants.

Before you leave the cafe, you send a quick message to a friend. Set your plan in place so that the details are polished, irrefutable when you present it to him.

And then you set out for the university library.

When you find Jake and Heeseung sitting at the same exact table on the third floor of the library, Heeseung doesn’t even bother to stick around for the customary greetings. Instead, he takes one single look at you before offering another flimsy excuse about having somewhere to be. Or maybe something to do. You can’t remember, and it doesn’t really matter.

After all, the only reason you’re here is because–

“I have a way for you to pass econ.” Sliding into the seat next to Jake, the same one you sat in last time, you don’t waste any time before divulging the reason for your presence.

If Jake is startled, he doesn’t show it. Statistics homework forgotten on the table, the only thing you see on his face is pure, obvious relief as his shoulders relax.

“Thank god.” Reaching for his phone, he unlocks it, tapping and swiping until he’s ready to enter a new contact. “Give me your number, and I’ll–”

You shake your head, interrupting his train of thoughts. The way you smile makes him suddenly uneasy. He thought this was over, but now he’s not so sure. You confirm his fears when you say, “A different way.”

Now Jake just looks exasperated. If you keep up this habit, he’s about to start failing statistics too. Never mind the fact that he got his hopes up for what he is sure will turn out to be a giant pile of nothing. Still, he humors you. “What do you mean, a different way?”

“I mean,” you start, folding your hands across your lap. Jake has the distinct impression that you’re trying your best to be as convincing as possible. If nothing else, it does pique his curiosity. He’s never seen you be anything but annoyed or uninterested. It’s an interesting change of pace.“I have a friend who’s also taking econ right now and hasn’t scored below a 98 on a single assignment.” Jesus, Jake thinks. Must be nice.

And then you drop the bomb on him. “He said he’s more than willing to tutor you. For money, of course.” you specify, moving on so quickly he hardly has the chance to process what you’re saying. “And it’s not like you can’t afford it, but I’ll split the cost with you. For the principle of it all.” There’s a beat of silence as what you’ve just said settles into the air. “Oh,” you add, remembering the most important detail. “And he’ll be discreet. Under the table tutoring, if you will. No chance of word getting back to Daddy Sim.”

You do your best to give him your most trustworthy smile. Jake just stares back at you, mildly horrified.

When he finally speaks again, it’s to say, “... Please, and I mean this with every single bone in my body, please never refer to my father like that again.”

Not even bothering to look sheepish, the only agreement you offer is a mock salute.

Your poor taste in nicknames aside, it does seem like a pretty sweet deal from where Jake is sitting. He cannot fail economics again, and getting a tutor would mean that his brother couldn’t hold his success over his head, couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for it. And a discreet tutor would be even better. Not going through the official university system would mean a much lower chance of his father ever finding out he got some help along the way.

All things considered, and very much to his surprise, Jake is having a hard time seeing any downsides.

He goes through the list again. First, he gets to pass economics. Second, he doesn’t have to deal with his older brother in the process. Third, he gets a tutor that won’t pop up on his father’s radar, and all Jake has to do in return is–

Wait.

“Hold on a minute.” There’s an unmistakable edge of suspicion in Jake’s voice. There’s no way you went out of your way to find him a tutor, to help pay for it, without getting something in return. The wheels in his mind are starting to spin when he asks, “What’s in it for you?”

Next to him, you smile. It’s small, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you almost look nervous. “It’s just a small favor, really.” The expression on your face is not reassuring in the slightest. Still, you insist, “It’ll be easy, I promise. Just a few hours of your time at most.”

Jake knows better than to agree without details. And especially to anything you’re proposing. He’s already preparing to kiss his dreams of passing econ goodbye when he asks slowly,“What is it?”

You sigh, pretenses dropping. If you’re going to convince him now, you might as well do it with honesty. “That annual charity fundraiser event my parents throw. Your parents are usually there, I think. I don’t know if you’ve ever gone?”

Jake shrugs, frowning as he tries to remember. He’s not entirely sure either. After a while, fundraisers and events and family obligations all start to blur together. Although the name does ring a bell, albeit a distant, faint one.

“Anyway,” you continue, “my mother is insistent that I bring a date. Someone she considers appropriate company. You know, runs in the same circles and comes from what she would consider a good family.” Jake nods. He does know exactly what you mean. Picking up on his agreement, you add with a twinge of hopefulness, “Like I said, it would be easy. Especially for you, since you’re used to this kind of stuff. I wouldn’t have to train you–”

That has Jake rolling his eyes. “Let me guess. I get a treat for rolling over?”

The ice in your glare is half hearted. “You know what I mean. There are certain…” You weigh your words carefully. “expectations at these things.” Pausing for a moment, you add, “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you’ll eat the soap, even if it’s candy shaped and on a platter.”

If you were trying to clarify your point, you did a terrible job. Jake’s brow pulls downwards in confusion. “Is that supposed to be some kind of metaphor?”

“Unfortunately not.” You shake your head, but don’t explain any further. Sunghoon’s mishaps are not the point of this conversation. A mutually beneficial deal is. Which is why you ask him, “So, what do you say? Are you in or not?”

Is he? Jake says nothing, considering. Mentally, he goes through the list of pros and cons. Pros, he thinks. I get to finally pass econ, and I get to do it without my brother. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, gaze tracking the movement as you nervously bite at your lower lip. Also, I get to show up at an event with the girl he’s been trying to get for weeks now.

He’d be lying if that didn't spark a certain warm feeling in his chest, if it didn’t inspire a sudden bout of preemptive vindication. But there are other things to consider.

Cons, he continues internally. I have to spend an entire evening at an event hosted by your family and make them believe you don’t annoy the ever-loving shit out of me.

Weighing his options, Jake has one more question. “How long would it be?” he asks, and you try to stifle a grin, as if he’s already told you yes.

“The event is technically four hours,” you say carefully, “but I’m sure we could manage to sneak out after a solid two and a half.”

Jake nods, thinking it over a moment longer.

“Okay,” he finally breathes, hoping this isn’t some kind of terrible, elaborate trick, that he isn’t about to sign his life away on a dotted line.

For econ, he thinks. For what’s left of his struggling GPA. He can manage a single night at a mind-numbingly boring high society function. Even if it’s with you. “I’m in.”

And it feels a bit strange, he has to admit, as he watches you type your contact information into his contact list. It feels odd to have your number in his phone with no intention of passing it on. To know that he’s the one who will be using it to confirm the details of this Saturday. To know that his brother will be none the wiser and not at all closer to having any kind of access to you.

And if that strange surge of smugness makes another sudden appearance, well, Jake just figures that no one ever has to know about it.

…

Frowning, you give yourself another once over in the full length mirror that sits next to your vanity. A shimmering, pale gold, the evening gown that flows over your figure was hand-selected by you for this very event. For some reason, you’re having a hard time rediscovering the magic you’d felt trying it on in the showroom here in the soft, ambient light of your bedroom.

Objectively, you’re sure you must look good. The compliments the store attendants had given you were more than just customary, and gold has always been your color. Still, a slew of sudden uncertainties simmer in your gut. Is the slight sparkle too garish? Does the gold wash you out? Your worries feel too big for your bedroom, at too stark an opposition with the peaceful ambience as soft, instrumental music plays from your speaker.

But this particular Saturday evening has its ways of making you feel jumbled where you’d typically be steadfast. Insecure where you’d usually find confidence.

It’s true that your mother has always had a critical eye, and especially where you’re concerned. If you were to search deep enough, however, you’d find that she’s not the person you’re most concerned about making a lasting impression on tonight.

With no small effort, you resist the urge to smooth out invisible wrinkles in the bodice of your dress. A nervous habit more than anything, it’s only exacerbated by the way your phone is still devoid of notifications. The clock on your nightstand is a reminder that your date for the evening should be here any minute, should be sending a message as confirmation of his arrival at your apartment. But your phone is still silent, even as the hour of the fundraiser draws nearer and nearer.

Maybe this was a terrible mistake, you think, a new bout of uncertainties beginning to brew. It shouldn't be a surprise, really. Trust him to be just as flakey as his brother, with absolutely no regard for previous commitments or anyone else’s time. It’s just your luck that you get stood up again, this time by the other Sim.

You're in the middle of disguising your fears and distracting yourself by cursing him and his future bloodline when your phone finally pings with an incoming notification. Well, you think, grabbing your coat, feeling a bit ridiculous for the slight overreaction, you’ll have to look into removing generational curses when you have the time.

For now, you settle with pulling on your heels for the evening, ignoring the way you feel a bit wobbly despite the fact that you’ve walked in far worse. Locking your apartment behind you and striking a slightly unsteady pace towards the elevator down the hall, you whisper a silent plea that tonight isn’t as much of a disaster as you’re afraid it could be.

You watch as the numbers on the elevator screen tick lower and lower, a swirling mix of dread and excitement starting to swim in your stomach. When you finally reach the first floor, you’re surprised to see a familiar face waiting for you in the lobby. Something in you softens, albeit just slightly. You’d incorrectly assumed he would just wait for you in the comfort of his car and spent the whole ride down preparing to awkwardly check license plates in the near dark till you found the right one.

An overwhelming sense of self-consciousness returns to you under the brightness of the lobby lights. Unconsciously, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, wondering how long it will take him to notice you as you begin to walk towards him. You’ve only made it a few steps when it strikes you that he’s already distracted by something else.

Across the lobby, Jake Sim is engaged in a conversation with your doorman. One that looks slightly heated, by your judgment.

As you get closer, their words become more audible.

“Like I just told you,” The exasperation in your date’s voice is apparent. “I’m here to see ___.”

And you really should make your presence known, should step in and divert the brewing argument, especially since you seem to be the subject of it.

But then you look at Jake. Really look at him.

Realistically, you knew he would come well-dressed. That had been a big part of your reason for choosing him. The Sunghoon soap fiasco aside, you already knew Jake Sim wasn’t someone who needed you to put together a PowerPoint presentation on formal event dress code. He didn’t need you to explain the concept of complementary colors or the advantages of getting a suit tailored. Didn’t need you to explain that Converse were not an appropriate show or that no, a bolo tie is not acceptable attire.

Up until now, you were grateful for his pre existing knowledge. It saved you a lot of time and effort that you could use to focus on other things, like getting ready yourself. But it also meant that you were entirely unprepared to see him like this.

Eyes scanning him again, the immaculate fit of his suit is undeniable, as is the way his dark hair is perfectly mussed. It’s styled enough to avoid withering comments from elderly attendees who have the habit of asking how people see with their hair covering their eyes. But it’s also messy in a way that looks intentional, in a way that makes you want to run your fingers through it, tug at it just a little, just to tease.

It’s not just that he’s dressed well, though, despite the fact that he undeniably is.

No, what has you freezing in your footsteps is the fact that Jake looks good.

“And like I just told you, you’re not on her guest list. So I’m sorry, sir.” There is not a single trace of apology in your doorman’s voice. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you up. You’ll have to contact her and ask her to add you to her guest list.” You’re not sure how he manages to do it without losing any professionality, but your doorman makes it very clear that he thinks that will happen just as soon as hell freezes over.

Jake’s shoulders tense in visible frustration. You have to suppress an actual sigh at the way fabric stretches over the muscle there. “Again, I’m not asking you to. Could you please just let her know that I’m here? She’s not answering her messages–”

“How odd.” The sarcasm is unmistakable.

Getting a little desperate, Jake ignores the slight and continues anyway. “And we’re on a bit of a time crunch, so–”

From here, you can see the way his features start to twist in panic. It’s sobering enough to snap you out of your trance.

Cutting in, you make your presence known. “It’s okay,” you tell your doorman first. “I know him.” Then, you turn to Jake, putting on an award-worthy performance of false nonchalance when you explain, “Sorry I didn’t respond to your message. I was just on my way down.”

You watch as some of the tension drains from his features. “That’s alright,” Jake concedes easily. “I just wanted to make sure we weren’t late.”

A funny feeling, a new one, stirs again. Something in you softens. “I appreciate that.”

You can’t help the way you take another look at him. At his suit, his hair, his face. At him, at all of it.

Mistaking your gaze for scrutiny, he asks, a bit self-consciously, “What do you think? Will your mother approve?”

She will. There’s no doubt in your mind. But you’re not looking at him through her eyes when you tell him, “Yeah, you look good. Really good.”

The last part probably wasn’t necessary, but the way he flushes makes it almost worth it. Casting your eyes downward in an effort to hide a smile, you notice a detail that you missed earlier.

Jewelry. Gold jewelry. A handful of rings on his fingers and a delicate bracelet on his left wrist.

Suddenly, his message from last night makes a little more sense.

Jake [9:02 pm]: What color is your dress for tomorrow?

You [9:08 pm]: Gold. Don’t worry about trying to match. A black suit will be just fine.

Now, you’re grateful he didn’t fully listen to you, touched that he even bothered to ask.

Across from you, Jake is suddenly having a bit of a hard time breathing. The earlier near-fiasco with your doorman all but forgotten, you’re still admiring his bracelet as his eyes scan the length of you, throat bobbing by the time his gaze makes its way back up to your face.

“You, uh,” he coughs. “You look nice too.”

“Thank you.” You miss the way his gaze wanders, can’t seem to find a place to land that won’t dust the tops of his cheekbones an even deeper shade of crimson. “I’ve been looking forward to wearing this dress forever.”

And it is a nice dress, Jake thinks, but he’s not sure how to tell you that’s not what he meant.

Eyes finally landing on your feet, or rather, on the stilettos you’re wearing, he frowns. “I had to park kind of far away.” Meeting your gaze, he adds, “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll pull the car around front.”

“Okay.” Something in you melts a bit at his consideration, at the fact that he even noticed. “Thank you.”

And it is nice, you think, to not be beginning the evening with your feet already sore. To have someone pick up on the little things, even if he’s being compensated for it in the form of half-price tutoring.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you try not to sigh like a lovesick schoolgirl when he opens the door for you, when he puts his hand on the back of your seat as he reverses the car out of its parking spot. Get it together, you think. You’ve turned up your nose at far more obvious attempts at wooing you, and it’s not like Jake is here with you out of his own volition. The thought is surprisingly disappointing, as he adjusts the stereo, soft music filling the silence.

The drive passes like that, in a quiet that’s only uncomfortable if you look at it too close. Eventually, the soft melodies filtering through the stereo become a pleasant sort of background noise as you watch the world blur outside the window.

It would be smart, probably, to sort out your story for the evening and put together something coherent for when the two of you are inevitably asked invasive questions, but you can’t bring yourself to be the one to disturb the peace.

So when you arrive at the fundraiser a handful of minutes later, you just have to hope that the image the two of you strike together will be enough to stave off any unwanted questions for the time being.

Again, Jake opens your car door for you, offers a steadying hand as you step out of it. And when he gives you his arm as you enter through the front door of the venue, you take it, wrapping your fingers around his elbow. Pausing just outside the entrance, you watch as he takes a deep breath.

“Ready?” You’re not sure if you’re asking him or yourself.

Jake answers for the both of you. “Let’s do this.”

Walking through the lobby, you hand your jackets to the coat check attendant before entering the ballroom where the fundraiser is held. Despite your general distaste for this evening and everything it entails – you sneak a glance at your partner in crime. Well, mostly everything – you can’t help but admire the space around you.

Decorated immaculately down to every last element, your mother truly doesn’t spare any expense or detail when it comes to throwing parties. And like always, she somehow manages to have a sharp eye on everything and everyone, no matter how chaotic or busy. You’ve hardly taken two steps inside the ballroom when she finds you, approaches you will all the grace of a panther stalking its prey.

Pulling you in for a quick hug, the warm greeting she gives you is more for the benefit of onlookers than for you. And it forces you to remove your hand from Jake’s arm.

Looking over your shoulder, her voice is sickeningly saccharine. “And this must be James,” she beams, making eye contact with the wrong brother. Directing her attention to him, she gushes, “My daughter has told me wonderful things about you.”

Your eyebrows raise in disbelief. Jake stifles a laugh, expertly turns it into a cough.

Really? You think. She did all that digging on James’ so-called turtle philanthropy but never bothered to pull up a picture of the guy? And you mean, standard genetic similarities aside, it’s not like the two of them look that much alike.

“Actually, mom,” you spare him the expense of having to correct her mistake, “this is Jake Sim. James’ brother. We go to school together.”

“Oh,” her eyebrows fall at the slip, no doubt an unforgivable social faux pas in her mind. “You never filled out the RSVP form, sweetie,” she somehow makes the term of endearment sound like a curse, “so I wasn’t sure who you’d be bringing.” Trust her to find a way to make her mistake your fault.

Turning back to your date, she tries to remedy her mistake. “Jake, then.” She offers him a smile so forced you’re surprised her cheeks aren’t aching. Looking back at you, she fishes, “And he’s your…?”

Her dangling bait goes untouched. “He’s my plus-one.” It’s an intentional choice of words on your part. In your mind, it’s a neutral enough term that will hopefully let you navigate the evening without too many rumors or invasive questions about your personal life from people you only speak to out of reluctant obligation.

Jake is less used to the way your mother tends to poke and prod, the way she likes to examine the superficial details of your life with a microscope and make sure she can frame them in a way that will be pleasing for public perception. The way she doesn’t ask about your love life because it’s of any genuine interest to her, but because she wants sole control of the rumor mill’s production.

Next to you, he stiffens, feels as though he’s already failed some kind of test he didn’t know he was taking, wasn’t given any materials to study for.

There’s a lot to be said, probably, about the way you pick up on his discomfort so easily. The way your hand returns to the crook of his elbow wordlessly and gives a single, gentle squeeze. Reassuring him, putting his nerves at ease, as you begin to navigate your way out of this conversation.

“We’d better find our seats,” you tell your mother. The only reason Jake can identify the icy edge hiding in the superficial sweetness of your voice is because he’s been on the receiving end of it. On multiple occasions. Directed at someone else, he finds it almost amusing. “Wouldn't want to miss anything.”

“Of course,” your mother concedes, but there’s an undertone there. Jake can tell that there’s a war being waged here, battles and skirmishes in subtext and stilted pauses. He’s no stranger to the way high society likes to wrap up insults in niceties and skirt around delicate topics, but his own family has never been anything but blunt when it comes to their distaste for him and his choices.

He’s still not entirely sure what he just witnessed, but you’re dragging him by his arm to find your assigned table before he can sort through the offending slights and put on armor that may be of any use to you.

Carefully arranged, the maze of tables is easy enough to navigate. Each seat has a white place card in front of it, embossed with a shimmery golden script that matches your dress and holds the name of the guest who’s been assigned to sit there.

You drag Jake past a flurry of names and attendees he half recognizes, stopping only to grab two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, handing one to Jake before you continue on your mission. After another minute of searching, you find your name at a table a few rows out from the far wall. Rolling your eyes, you can practically hear your mother’s reasoning: Not too close to the wall. Wouldn’t want people thinking I’m trying to hide her. But certainly not anywhere near the center of the room, in case she falls into that pesky habit of being an awful embarrassment.

Standing behind your chair, your eyes find the place card stationed in front of the seat next to yours at the same time Jake’s do.

“Oh my god.” The exasperation is apparent, even though your words are barely audible where you mutter them under your breath.

Because of course this hasn’t already been enough of a train wreck. Because of course the place card next to yours doesn’t have Jake’s name on it. Nope, embossed in the same shimmery gold is the name of another person entirely.

James Sim.

You turn to your date, apologetic. “God, I’m sorry. I really didn’t fill out the RSVP form, but I didn’t think she’d just assume…”

“It’s okay.” Jake gives you some grace. “Really, it wouldn’t be the first time.” And all things considered, he kind of is in his brother’s seat tonight. Attending an event that’s better suited for the future head of the company than his forgotten younger brother. Accompanying the girl that public opinion surely dictates would be a better match for him.

Still, you frown. Reaching for the small clutch that sits against your hip, you rummage for a moment before pulling out a black permanent marker.

Jake glances at you sideways.Your bag of the evening is tiny, barely even big enough to hold your phone. He’s surprised you managed to fit the marker in there, much less prioritize it enough to bring it with you. “You carry that thing around with you all the time?”

You shrug. “Never know when you’ll need to do some DIY vandalism.”

It would be a lie if he said something in him doesn’t soften, just a bit, when he watches you reach for the place card in front of his seat and put a giant, bold X over his brother’s name.

Your handwriting is no match for the computer-generated script, but Jake still likes the place card a little better when you’re done with it, likes the way his name looks next to yours when you set it back on the table, alterations completed.

“There,” you say, looking entirely too satisfied with your handiwork. “All better.” This time, you slide down into your seat before Jake has the chance to pull it out for you. Turning to him as he tentatively takes the seat next to you, he finds a small frown on your lips. “Wait,” you pause, realization written across your features. “Your brother isn’t coming, right?”

Jake shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it. He has no reason to come. My parents are on a business trip, so they won’t be here either. And that also probably means he’s more swamped than usual at the office.”

Nodding, you take a sip of champagne. “Good.” Pausing, your lips quirk. “Although it would be kind of funny if he–”

“I think you’re in my seat.” The sudden interruption is flat, leaves no room for arguments.

Startled, the two of you spin in your chairs.

James Sim, despite his brother’s predictions, is in fact not otherwise occupied at his office. Instead, he stands directly behind his younger sibling, strikes an imposing figure where his shadow blocks the chandelier light behind him and extends over his brother and his altered place card.

Eyes flaming, he looks at where his name has been crossed out. Replaced.

Next to Jake, you remain silent, figure that you’ll let Jake handle this one the way he let you handle your mother. Far be it from you to step in on a family matter.

But then you notice the way Jake shrinks a little in his seat, hides a little further in his brother’s shadow. Reaches for the place card like he wishes he could take it back.

Sliding your gaze back to your least favorite Sim sibling, your voice is even, albeit icy, when you point out the obvious, “It’s not actually. Can’t you read?” Jake’s hand stops in its tracks, falls back to his lap.

A quick look your way is the only indication James even hears you. Instead, he continues his one-sided conversation with his brother, a barely controlled sort of fury crossing over his expression. “Hm,” he muses, glancing between the two of you. “Sure seems like you two are awfully close.” Casting an accusatory glare at Jake, he adds, “That’s funny. I could have sworn you said you barely knew her.”

Her. You’re sitting right there, and you don’t even get a name.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Jake either. And it turns out to be just what he needs to find his voice. You’re almost proud of the sarcasm he manages to muster when he counters, “Yeah, well, this funny thing happens when you spend time together. You actually get to know each other.” Straightening his spine, there’s an unmistakable edge in his voice when he adds, “You know, when you actually bother to show up, that is.”

You hide a laugh behind your hand, albeit not very well. Glancing at Jake, a feeling swells in your chest that you can only identify as pride. You didn’t know he had it in him.

Reassessing his strategy, James turns to you, forcing a nonchalance that is entirely contradicted by the way his cheeks are rapidly reddening. “Actually, ___,” he tries, acting as if the last thirty seconds faded out of existence at his will. “I was hoping to speak to you about something. I’d love to get you a drink if you–”

“Actually,” Jake cuts in, doubling down. “We already have drinks.” Behind you on the table, the two near full glasses of champagne are undeniable evidence. The laugh that spills out of you this time is impossible to hide. Yeah, you decide, between the two of them, you definitely hate James more. Entirely amused, the only thing you wish you had is a bowl of popcorn as you root for the underdog. Not that he needs it. Much to your satisfaction, he’s been landing his punches well.

The giggle dies on your lips, though, when you feel the warmth of another hand suddenly cover the top of yours where it rests on your thigh. Gaze flaming, James follows the movement. Startled, your eyes fly to Jake. The only view you’re offered is of his profile as he keeps his gaze trained on his brother, the challenge in his features unmistakable.

The only consolation he offers for your sudden shock is a small, reassuring squeeze against your knuckles.

And then he says, “And I’d like to keep my girlfriend right here, actually.” At that, he does finally turn to you, eyes pleading, gaze imploring when he seeks your permission. Even though they’re performative in nature, his words aren’t solely for James’ benefit. “If that’s alright with you, that is.”

Girlfriend.

You were perfectly happy in the role of the observer, but now Jake has dragged you into the spotlight. Even though it pains you, you know you can’t leave him hanging. Not when that would mean a sure victory for his dickhead of a brother.

Girlfriend. The word echoes in your head, has you feeling dizzy.

“Of course,” you return hollowly, barely recognizing the sound of your own voice over the sudden rushing in your ears. “Boyfriend.”

When you smile at him, you make sure it looks sickeningly sweet enough to deter James. Your eyes, however, flash with a warning only Jake can read.

“You’re dating?” James can’t hide his shock, and his outrage is just as obvious.

“Yep,” Jake passes you a panicked look. But you don’t need it, don’t need his convincing. You’ve already dug yourself a deep enough hole. Trying to climb out now would only mean everything crumbles.

“Sure are,” you confirm with a tight smile. Turning back to Jake, you add, “Actually, sweetie, I need to talk to you about, uh…” you scramble for a moment. Finish vaguely with, “that thing.”

“Right.” Jake picks up on the threat in your eyes seamlessly, knows there’s only one acceptable response. “That thing,” he echoes.

“Yeah, so,” you turn back to James, barely acknowledging him as you start to stand. “We’re gonna step out for a minute.”

Jake is all but putty in your hands as you switch the positioning of your grip so that the hand that was resting on yours is now encased firmly between your fingers.

“See you later,” are Jake’s breathless parting words to his brother.

“Hopefully not, though,” you alter.

And then you’re dragging him back through the crowd towards the exit, and it’s all Jake can do to not run into the other guests or knock over the delicately balanced trays of hors d’oeuvres waiters carry throughout the room. He’s at your mercy all the way through the double doors of the ballroom, and you pause only briefly to determine which hallway is less likely to have people in it before deciding on the one to the right, towing him along behind you.

Once you’re far enough away from unwanted eyes and ears, you start wiggling every door knob you come across, growing visibly more frustrated until you finally find an unlocked one. Huffing, you push Jake into the spare storage closet first. Following him in, you close the door behind you.

The sudden change in space puts you in close proximity. Your nose is only a handful of inches away from his when you start laying out accusations.

“What the hell?” With the same hand than just dragged him on a half marathon, you shove at his chest. “Boyfriend?” You have half a mind to grab the broom standing next to you and start whacking him with it.

“I’m sorry!” Jake holds his hands up defensively. He doesn’t miss the way you’re eyeing every cleaning tool around you, no doubt deciding which would make the most effective weapon. “I panicked, okay? I just hate that smug little look he gets on his face–”

“Well you’re about to be seeing ‘that smug little look’ a lot more once he calls your bluff!” you half-shout, trying to convey your anger without alerting anyone to your presence.“The timeline barely lines up to begin with. It’s only been what, a few weeks since I was supposed to go on a date with him? And that’s not to mention the fact that there won’t be anyone to corroborate our story, because we don’t spend any time together, since, y’know, we’re not dating.”

Jake begs to differ. You’ve invaded more than one of his Wednesday night statistics study sessions.

But before he can point this out, you’re continuing. “Which means you’re gonna have to come up with some sort of believable explanation for why we break up after, like, three days.”

“Ugh.” Jake drags an open palm down his face. He hates to admit it, but you do have a point there.

Fingers running through his hair, his sudden stress is apparent. And you’re not trying to send him to an early grave, but would it have killed him to think before he spoke? Consider the consequences of starting the exact kind of rumor you’ve been hoping to dodge all evening? You get that his brother is not exactly an easy person to get along with, but was the short-lived victory really worth the potential fallout?

Across from you, Jake seems to be having the same realizations. A million thoughts whirring through his brain, he’s not sure where to place his focus.

After a moment, he settles on optimism. “Look, I think it will be fine.” The more he thinks about it, the more he convinces himself he believes it. “James has been up to his ass in company stuff since the second he graduated, so it’s not like he has extra time to check up on us or anything.” And even if he did, James would have no way of knowing who to ask. Jake has the sneaking suspicion his older brother couldn’t name a single one of his friends if his life depended on it. He would have no idea who to track down to corroborate your so-called romance.

“We won’t have to do anything,” Jake reasons. “I’ll just mention you in passing for the next few weeks if he happens to ask.” Even that should be simple enough. After all, Jake seriously doubts he will. “And by the time the holidays roll around, I can just say things fizzled naturally.” Easy. Simple. Uncomplicated. Mutual, and your pride and his both remain intact. “No big deal.”

Across from him, you weigh his words. It makes sense, yes, but there’s something starting to swirl in your gut that you don’t like. It feels a little too much like dread, like trepidation. Jake can read all of the uncertainty written across your face when you tell him, “I still don’t like it. My mother and your brother were both here tonight and already got different stories from us. This could get messy really quickly. I mean, what if our families start talking–”

“They won’t.” Jake shakes his head. “Your mom thinks I’m just a plus-one, and when my name comes up in James and my father’s conversations, it isn’t to discuss the ins and outs of my dating life.” Of this, at least, Jake is sure. His father couldn’t care less who he dates, as long as it’s not a liability to him, to the company. “Besides, we're university students.” Jake tries to lighten the mood, clear some of the tension. “Twenty-one and immature and all that.” For a moment, Jake imagines what life would feel like if that’s truly all he was, if that’s the only thing he got to be. No added pressure of a notorious last name and a reputation to maintain. Tucking that thought to the back of his mind, he decides he’ll mourn it later. “A short-lived relationship with a story that doesn’t quite add up is practically a right of passage. Not something to be suspicious of.”

You remain silent for a moment, but your hand doesn’t get any closer to the broom.

“Okay.” Some of the tension seeps out of your shoulders as you turn his reasoning over in your brain, nodding as his logic starts to piece together. “Okay,” you reiterate. You still don’t like it, but he’s right about one thing: it is the best option you have.

After all, there’s no way in hell you’re about to go tell your mother that your plus-one is actually your secret boyfriend, and you hate to admit it, but James’ little smirk is incredibly agitating. And it will all blow over, you’re sure. Like Jake said, James and your mother have no real reason to talk, and if Jake is convinced that his brother won’t be spreading this particular rumor, you’ll just have to believe him for the time being.

Letting him out of the closet first, you only imitate hitting him upside the back of the head once before you catch up to him, linking arms again before reentering the ballroom.

As the evening goes on, your worry starts to subside. Thankfully, every other part of the night goes perfectly to plan, even if you do have to force yourself to laugh a little too hard at one of Jake’s awful jokes when you catch James watching the two of you. The second glass of champagne you down helps, if nothing else.

Exactly as you predicted, after two and a half hours have passed, you and Jake are sneaking out the back exit, tiptoeing to his car as the fourth speaker of the evening continues their droning speech inside the event. Your mother is none the wiser to your early departure, and you hope it’s the first in a series of victories for the evening.

When Jake drops you off just outside the front doors of your apartment building, his smile is almost reassuring enough to put that lingering sense of unease to rest where it still sits in your gut.

Makeup removed, hair washed, and evening gown traded for pajamas, sleep is slow to find you a handful of hours later. Eventually, though, it does, and your rest is undisturbed, dreamless.

…

The next morning, with nothing but the pastel tones of sunrise and the sound of his brewing coffee maker to keep him company, Jake Sim stares at the message on his phone in abject horror.

Mom [7:32 am]: I can’t believe I had to find out from your brother! Family dinner next weekend at our place. Bring your girlfriend. :)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

PART TWO IS UP AND LINKED ON MY MASTERLIST!

note: thank you for reading!! this is the version I had saved in my docs and it should be identical to what was posted before but in case there are any slight differences, that's why. I also sometimes make the fatal mistake of doing small grammatical edits in tumblr itself, so please excuse any minor errors as I didn't do a read through this time around. as always, I love to hear any thoughts you may have!

#enhypen fanfiction #jake fanfiction #enhypen jake #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #jake sim #jake fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #jake imagines #jake scenarios #jake x you #enhypen x you #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff

802 notes · View notes

chxrryhansen · 9 months ago

Text

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans Series Rec List

thought i’d make a list of all the best cevans (characters) series i have read!! i have lots more to add and will continue to update this list🫶🏻 i will also create a one shot fic rec list in the near future💖💘💞

Preying On You Tonight - @evansbby

“Steve is the cocky, brash and domineering alpha who makes your life at university a living hell every day. You’re the complete opposite - quiet, meek and reserved. You’re convinced Steve hates you, but what happens when he finds out you have a boyfriend? (a/b/o dynamics)”

Wicked Games - @evansbby

Ari is the campus fuckboy and you’re his little plaything. But he’s telling the truth when he says he’s going to make you his girlfriend soon, right?

What A World - @onsunnyside

S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of secrets, you just never expected one of them to be an actual person—a blue-eyed giant, wild manbeast at that. [tarzan!Steve Rogers x doctor!reader, nomad!steve, size difference]

Just Because I Won’t Die For You, Doesn’t Mean I Won’t Kill For You - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd Hansen is just another job for you. Your last job. However, when he decides that he wants to take you for a ride and have a good time, well...how’s a girl supposed to say no?

Closer To Heaven And Closer To You - @georgiapeach30513

When your boyfriend, Ransom wants to take a trip back home to the ranch to meet your family, you are unsure. Knowing that a rodeo is in town could only mean your ex, Frank Adler, was most likely riding for eight seconds, still trying to beat his best friend, Steve Rogers. All you wanted was a nice time, not old memories bothering your brain.

Just Like The Caged Bird - @georgiapeach30513

You are a widow who moves back to her husband's hometown after selling your in Georgia home. Moving in above your brother in law's garage. Sharing the space with his friend Bucky Barnes, but your other brother-in-law Andy causes problems, along with your overprotective brothers.

Pretty Petals - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

You go on a self-improvement retreat, but not all is as it seems. (multi-character)

His Koala Bear - @kinanabinks

you and steve have been best friends since you were 5. for the longest time, he has wanted so much more from you. and it's getting harder for him to stop himself from taking it.

Belong Here - @angrythingstarlight

Steve has been looking for his perfect girl and suddenly there you are stuck in this dingy restaurant. You don't belong here, you belong with him.

Finding Home - @navybrat817

Steve finds a home with you. (lumberjack Au)

Their Doll - @kaiparker-avengerssmut

y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

No Better Than Beast’s - @lokislastlove

You’re an animal rights activist who sets out to put an end to animal testing… but it’s a risky mission. (Dark!Steve Rogers)

Doppelgänger - @boxofbonesfic

Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale + Dark!Lloyd Hansen)

Million Dollar Man - @chrisevansgoodgirl

your relationship with ransom and his insane family.

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart - @spacesnail3000

Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise.

Let It Snow - @spacesnail3000

She was his Omega, and Steve had a plan. She would love him. He knew she would.

Sweet Renegade - @cevansbrat0007

A new arrival in town leads to an unexpected complication in the form of a sexy as sin Bounty Hunter named Ari Levinson.

Evergreen, Evermore - @babyjakes

loving husbands jake and ari had always believed they were all each other could ever want or need. but one unusual summer, when their world is turned upside-down by an uncanny girl from down the street, they find that having someone to love, nurture, and care for together is the missing piece that finally completes their perfect family and lives.

A Huckleberry Is Nothing Without His Hummingbird - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd and Y/N have been amicably(ish) divorced for four years. However, when earth shattering trauma come their way, will they lean into what they truly want, or will the flames from past traumas still burn too bright?

Civil war- Brooklyn - @saiyanprincessswanie

Ten years ago the Readers world was turned upside down when her father was killed by Hydras Brock Rumlow. She believes the loves of her life Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes were also killed while trying to avenge her fathers death. Reader is now working for the FBI on a task force that is meant to take down Hydra. She volunteers to go undercover to take down Hydra. In doing so she not only puts herself in the cross hairs with Rumlow but she gets to meet the mystery men causing Hydra issues. Who are the Captain and Winter Soldier? What lengths will you go through to uncover the truth and seek revenge?

The Boston Brute - @time-for-a-lullaby

When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake.

Planet Evans Universe - @astranva

In which Chris was a nervous mess when he met his A+ list celebrity crush, highest-paid, and the most iconic actress, you, at Vanity Fair’s 2014 after party. (Following the life of overprotective!dad!Chris x wife!actress!reader!)

Don’t Speak - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (Dark!Andy Barber)

Cat and Mouse - @queen-of-the-avengers

You’re called the Vixen because you were HYDRA’s favorite creation. You’re very hard to catch, and once you are, it’s even harder to keep you.

Let’s Ride - @starryevermore

You’re a single mom and have just moved into a new town. You have no interest in looking for love, but the funny thing about love is, it waits for no one. (Biker!Ari Levinson)

Out Of The Darkness - @sunshinexsin

Sienna Jons has lived in Boston for three years now after graduating and is running her own salon in the city. With a small group of friends sticking by her side, she's content with her life. Enter Chris Evans, a known and feared mob boss in Boston’s underground crime world. Coming out of a long relationship ended in a bitter divorce, Chris isn’t looking for anything serious until Sienna crosses his path. Trying to win her over proves difficult for the man who seemingly has it all and Sienna is not willing to be with someone who causes such destruction in his own hometown. Sienna soon finds herself entangled in the crazy, violent world of the mob and struggles to find a way to either live with the hardened man Chris has always been or get away from him before her own life spirals out of control.

Murder He Wrote - @wiypt-writes

You’re sent by your asshole boss to do a review of a Celebrity Host Haunted Mansion, hosted by none-other than the arrogant, wild-eye browed actor Lucas Lee, but you’re worried you’ve missed the boat…that is, until at the last minute, an email arrives to say they can let you in on the last admission that night, which just happens to be Halloween. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale)

Poison Paradise - @the-iceni-bitch

Robert Pronge was sure he could settle for a fake domestic life as long as he could go on killing. Little did he know that you could give him everything he needed.

A Bun In The Oven - @witchywithwhiskey

the leaves are changing—green fading into golden yellow, burnt orange and radiant red—and the days are getting shorter and colder as autumn settles in. it's the perfect time of year for baked goods, fall foliage, book stores, and to curl up next to (and get under) our favorite man with a plan, steve rogers

Wilford’s Demands - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Wilford places you in Curtis’ care so he can impregnate you.

In The Balance - @goodgirlofglory

One unsuspecting evening, the stranger Steve Rogers appears bloodied and in need of aid at your doorstep. You immediately catch his eye, and he forces himself upon you within the hour. Several months of repeated visits from him results in your pregnancy, and the night you find out, Steve intereceps you on your way to an abortion clinic and kidnaps you to his mansion. Will you carry the child to term? Will you buckle under the pressure of capitivity? Will you escape the grasp Steve has on you, or will you submit to it and your own, conflicted desires?

Drowning Siren - @rogerswifesblog

The Avengers found an old abandoned HYDRA base, that had been cleared after HYDRAs existence had been exposed. At least they thought it was cleared. It was the biggest experimental lab they had ever seen, the closest base to the ocean, full with creatures-dead creatures. Some of them laid still on tables, stripped with metal cuffs, open and already rotting. It was an awful smell. But then they heard something beautiful. A melody, a beautiful voice singing unbelievably gentle sounds. Walking into the building full with ocean creatures, they had no idea their life was about to change.

Vampire Kings Religion - @marvelcriminalhoe

In a world where fantasy beings roam every corner, the humans are on the bottom. Looked at as weak and disgraceful. The vampires are the opposite. They rule the land, and all of the creatures that take part of it. the current ruler, King Steven, has ruled for more than 150 years, alone. After many nights, and long talks with his most trusted hands, he comes to the long awaited decision that he will finally, take a wife. All female creatures, are to be evaluated, so he can find his perfect match. Of course, no one expects for him to choose a human. Especially not one from the church. Especially not the daughter, of the leader, of the church. The same church that detests the mythical creatures, wishing for nothing more than for them to perish in fire. How could this union possibly end well?

Ride And Prejudice - @pagesoflauren

A take on Pride & Prejudice, certain circumstances in your life have led you to take refuge and work in a farm village, particularly on the ranch owned by Steve Rogers. He doesn’t take kindly to you, having bad perceptions about city folk. Your only reaction to that is the one you deem acceptable: get annoyed at every little thing he does whilst doing your best to annoy him and still keep your job.

Love On The Brain - @howardpotts

You’re just a student, living her normal daily life in New York. One night changes everything, without you even knowing. Steve Rogers slowly introduces you to his world full of money, drugs and voilence. But are you able to handle what he has to offer? (MobBoss!Steve Rogers)

Flamingo King - @onsunnyside

The sun is brutal this summer, especially in Flamingo Trailer Park, the land of big hearts and cheap tricks, you’ve been here for years unlike your “new” neighbour, Ari. He’s older, bigger, and intimidating, the local rockstar, and you, well, aren’t you just the sweetest girl in the whole damn city?

Make It A December To Remember - @imyourbratzdoll

AGE AND SIZE DIFFERENCE IS ADDED TO ALL! SANTA AND THE GRINCH ARE LARGER THAN THE READER! THE ELVES ARE THE SIZE OF HER PALM! (a chris evans xmas universe)

This Love Is Bad - @wildestdreamsblog

You were just trying to escape your past, and Ari was trying to chase his future.

Nowhere To Run - @sagechanoafterdark

On the last day that Steve spent in your small town before heading off to basic training for the army, he made sure it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. Years later when he appears in your town he seems like a changed man in more ways than one, but you’re ready to show him that you’ve never forgotten that day. (Dark!Steve Rogers+ Bucky Barnes)

Nice To Be Kneaded - @rogersideup

Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. Steve Rogers face had been plastered on the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. It had been just a few long months shy of a year, just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, he found himself in the scanty town of Greenwood in the house right next to yours.

Forever And Ever More - @syntheticavenger

Ransom Drysdale may be Boston’s most eligible Alpha who has his eyes set on you. With his inheritance hanging in the balance, he won’t take no for an answer, whether you like him or not.

Hackers Heart - @bakugousaysdie

steve rogers has always been america’s golden boy, leading earth’s mightiest heroes and serving his country. you have always been bad with boundaries, a little too curious, and an absolute disruption. you are an absolute menace,so it’s only right you fell in love with the most adored man in the country.

Arranged - @time-for-a-lullaby

Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

#chxrrys fic recs #chxrrys masterlist #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #steve rogers #ransom drysdale #lloyd hansen #andy barber #ari levinson #chris evans fic recs #steve rogers fic recs

2K notes · View notes

queenpiranhadon · 21 days ago

Text

╰┈➤ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ✶.ᐟ: Your daughter and son, ever the matchmakers, wonder why your husband, their father, isn't the most romantic. One night, when you come home from work, you witness your kids trying to wrangle Sukuna into a suit, excitedly telling you he's taking you to a fancy restaurant.

✶ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: f!reader, you and Sukuna are married, you have a 7 year old daughter and a 5 year old son, Sukuna isn't very big on PDA but he loves you so so so much, your kids love their mama <3, icky food, no curses AU, mentions of postpartum insecurities, ooc Sukuna - for a reason dw

✶ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: ✶

You're in a good mood today - work went smoothly and you were able to finish up early so you could come home to wind down with your family for the evening.

As you grab your keys to unlock the front door of your home, you mentally go through a list of ingredients for what you plan on making for dinner tonight.

However, a loud crash breaks you out of your thoughts, startling you as you hurriedly open the door, wondering what in the world you husband and kids have gotten up to now.

Stepping inside, you're not exactly sure what to make of the scene that graces your eyes.

Your husband has a grumpy look on his face, red eyes squinting at the little girl in front of him with an equally annoyed expression on her face.

Your son is nowhere to be seen, but you hear another crash from the kitchen, flinching as you have a nagging suspicion what's going on.

What's even more jarring however, is the fact that your husband is wearing a suit.

It's been a while since you've seen Sukuna in formal wear, especially in a suit that deliciously clings to his frame in a way that showcases his defined arms and sculpted torso.

"Stop complaining Daddy! You need to look good for- oh Hi Mommy!" your daughter's voice cuts you out of your daydreaming, her small angry face brightening up in excitement once her eyes fall on you.

Running up to you, she grabs your hand and tugs you closer to your husband, whose face looks slightly embarrassed - which should've immediately signaled some alarms in your mind because Sukuna and embarrassed did not fit in the same sentence.

"Daddy's gonna take you on a date to a fancy restaurant!" your daughter chirps, and you blink at her slowly.

"He- what?"

"Go get ready Mommy! Look extra pretty too!"

You protest helplessly, unable to do much as your daughter pushes you into your room, leaving you to contemplate what the hell just happened.

You chuckle at your daughter's antics, sighing as you set your bag down and take your shoes off.

It wouldn't hurt to play along for a bit.

Rifling through your closet, your eyes widen as they land on the dress Sukuna had bought you for your birthday a while ago.

Changing into it, you stare at yourself in the mirror. You know it's been a hot minute since you've ever dressed up so nicely, but the way the dress clings to your figure seems different than how it used to. Then again, the last time you wore this dress was before your daughter was born, and thus it was bound to fit a little differently due to the changes your body had undergone due to postpartum. Your husband has assured you that he genuinely did not care, and that he loved you the way you are, and yet... you couldn't help but feel a little insecure as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

Before you could change your mind though, your daughter barges into the room, giving you a quick once-over before grabbing your arm again and dashing to the backyard with you in tow.

Like father, like daughter, you snort mentally, knowing full well your little girl got her impatience from her dad.

Bringing you to the patio, you blink in surprise as your drink in the view in front of you. It's a fairly nice setup, fairy lights twinkling from the veranda ceiling and a table with a vase of flowers that you recognize to be the one you set on the kitchen counter just a few days ago.

"Aw honey, did you do all of this?" you say, and your daughter grins nodding.

"I hope you're hungry!" she says and you raise an eyebrow.

Before you can ask any further though, you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Turning you see your husband, clearly out of his element as he eyes your figure in a way that makes you feel almost vulnerable to his gaze.

"H-Hey." You say, awkwardly. Though being married for so long, it's been a while since you and Sukuna have been on a date - not to anyone's fault, but between balancing both your work life and managing your kids' schedules, there just hasn't been any time.

He smirks, approaching you and wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him. "Hey, gorgeous. Ya ready?"

You flush - was Sukuna ever this flirty? You feel like a schoolgirl again - which is strange, considering you've been married for nine years. Maybe the lack of dates has really caught up to you.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts. If your husband could act a little out of his element, so could you.

You bring a hand up to his face, tracing his jawline before your thumb grazes the outline of his lips. Your look at him lovingly, but there's a tinge on shyness in your gaze too.

"You look really good, Ryo." you say, and it's like you're 17 again.

Sukuna hums, kissing the top of your forehead. "Yeah? You don't look so bad yourself, love."

Guiding you to the table, he pulls out your seat for you, making sure you're situated before sitting down in his own seat.

You're not sure how your daughter managed to get Sukuna to act like this, but you mentally thank her because this was so worth it. You make a note to treat her later.

Just then, you son loudly enters the area, wearing what you notice to be your husband's chunky black boots and your white jacket and sunhat in what you gather to be a poor attempt at a chef's outfit. You wince mentally noticing a stain that definitely wasn't there before but your son looked so hilariously adorable in the clearly oversized clothing that you couldn't bring yourself to be mad.

You see him adorably trying to look at mature as possible, with a mustache drawn on with what you hope isn’t permanent marker.

“Here are your menus.” your son says, with a terrible French accent, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand to stifle your laugh.

“Thank you very much… um what’s in the-” you squint, trying to decipher what you know to be your son’s handwriting “special?”

Your son frowns, thinking for a minute. “The special? The special has uh…” you wait for him patiently, extremely amused.

He just shrugs. “I dunno.”

You laugh a little and sigh, eyeing the menu that consisted of the unknown special and baked beans for some apparent reason.

“I’ll just take the baked beans then.” you say, smiling down at your son, who takes your menu, turning to look at your husband, whose red eyes were already staring at you.

You flush and clear your throat, looking away, but you can still feel his assessing gaze, as if he's trying to drink up every square inch of you, memorizing your beautiful face in the moment.

Your son looks up at his father impatiently and Sukuna blinks in confusion before realizing that he needed to order too. “I’ll just take the baked beans or whatever I guess.” He grumbles and you raise an amused eyebrow.

The moment your son stomps away in his (read: Sukuna’s) boots, your husband mutters under his breath. "God I hate baked beans."

You snort. "Weren't you the one who wanted to eat healthier in this house?"

Sukuna grumbles"When I said eat more proteins, I meant meat, not stupid beans." You almost want to take a picture of his expression- looks like your daughter was rubbing off on your husband as just much as he was rubbing off on her.

“WE HAVE A PROBLEM!” you hear your son call out, and you flinch as another crash can be heard from inside.

You start to get up, but you’re stopped by the feeling of Sukuna’s large hand on your thigh.

“I’ll take care of it.” you hear his gruff voice say, and your heart warms at the sentiment, watching him and his daughter leave the room.

Sukuna groans, watching the catastrophe in front of him.

Taking on that stupid bet with a 7 year old, what was he thinking?!

He can picture her smug face in his mind, drawing a random picture on the countertop before asking the most out of pocket question in the world.

“Why does Mommy love you?”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow. Because we’re married…?”

She rolls her eyes. “I know that, I mean why does Mama love you- it’s not like you give her kisses and hugs all the time.”

Sukuna blinks. She wasn’t wrong. But that didn’t mean he didn’t show his affection to you. Any PDA was done behind closed doors, away from prying eyes, which included your own children. And you knew that- and reassured him that his alternate ways of showing affection didn’t bother you at all. However…

“Daddy’s not romansic!” Your son chimes, his pronounciating a little off, but the message was clear.

Your daughter nods. “Yeah Daddy! You can’t be romantic at all!”

Which is how Sukuna found himself staring at the spilled can of baked beans, food splattered across the tiled kitchen floor. He eyes another stain on his (your) jacket as well- and groans internally, knowing that he owes you another one.

"What the f- heck, happened here?"" Sukuna gapes, catching himself before he said something he would surely get sent to the couch for.

"....I spilled it." Your son looks back at him meekly. Unlike his daughter, your son looked and acted almost exactly like you- which was a problem for Sukuna because it made it almost impossible to get mad at him.

Your husband groans, knowing wondering how he's going to clean the mess, when your daughter's small hands star pushing him out of the kitchen again.

"Go be romantic Daddy- I'll clean up the mess and we'll make something." she says, and in that split second, he gets immediate whiplash from the resemblance your daughter has to you.

Maybe not in looks, Sukuna had that covered, but in the way her mouth curved up in a determined little smile? All you.

Sukuna knew you were as used to this whole date thing as he was - the last date you had been on was about 7 years ago, and so he was a little nervous.

But when you saw you, god you looked so heavenly it was almost sinful to even be able to lay his eyes upon you. The way your dress hugged your curves, the sparkle in your eyes he loved so much, and that gorgeous smile - he wanted to give you the world. He wants to give you the world.

He sees you sitting patiently by the table, tracing invisible patterns on the tablecloth, before a shadow looming over the table catches your attention.

Sukuna's behind you, draping his arms around you to loosely rest against your collarbone, burying his nose into the crook of your neck.

"Huh- oh, hi Ryo!" you say, smiling softly and giggling as his hair tickles your neck.

Fuck... I love you so much baby...so, so, so, damn much." he mumbles and you coo, threading your fingers through his hair and pressing a kiss to the pink tufts.

You laugh slightly. "What's gotten into you, hm?"

Sukuna still doesn't lift his face from your neck, his words muffled. "Shut up woman, and let me love my wife."

You smile warmly, gently removing your hands from his hair to tilt his face towards you, leaning in to kiss him tenderly.

Sukuna almost melts from your touch, and you're a little surprised, wondering who ever managed to get him so...soft.

Sukuna didn't have to wonder though. He knew. It was you. It always has been. Sukuna's not one to look at the past, or get sentimental, but this? Spending some time with you, being able to be surrounded by you and your love, being able to watch his family grow with you by his side - he can't help but feel the need to love you even more than he has.

What you both don't notice are the two sets of eyes that peer out the back window, your daughter and son fist bumping as a mission accomplished.

A/N: I think I rewrote this a good three times :,)

𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @tootiecakes234 @gina239 @its-liberty-frazblair @lilyadora @callmeanythingyouwant00

@milkm4nz @lightsgore @skaiblu-e @that-one-lightskin @hahajsphaha

@beaniesayshi @abinformyobsessions @sharycatx3 @meddykip @riririr11

@ladygojooo @abyzissupersleepy @lilaccmilk @anime2006

453 notes · View notes

darling-flora · 3 months ago

Text

main thing 2

lewis hamilton x yn model - social media au

[part 1]

[part 2]

[part 3]

[part 4]

fc : bella hadid

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

ynlewisupdates

Liked by lhamfan3, ynfan5 and 69,944 others

ynlewisupdates Y/N and Lewis in stayed in Barcelona following the Spanish GP and enjoyed a day on a yacht followed by a loved up dinner.

view all comments

lhamfan3 loving them so much 🤞

ynfan44 STOPP the way lewis is looking at her on the yacht is crazyyyy 🤭

↳ynhamfan1 she has him in a chokehold 😫

lhamfan82 i saw them at the restaurant they were at and they were so touchy and cute !!

lhamfan33 she’s just riding on lewis' fame…

↳lhamfan63 girl be serious 🙄 she's THE worlds highest paid model like bffr...

lhamfan9 hope she going to more races !!

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

ynlewisupdates

Liked by lhamfan3, ynfan5 and 68,144 others

ynlewisupdates Rainy Qualifying in Canada outfits

view all comments

ynfan6 y/n posting on her story that she had to change last minute because of the rain is making me giggle...

ynfan44 I MET HER OMFG !!

↳ynhamfan1 OMG you're so lucky !! what was she like ?!??! ↳ynfan44 she was so sweet !! i told her that i wish i could've met lewis but he was like running lol.. and she laughed and then literally PULLED OUT A SIGNED LEWIS HAT !! i almost cried.. we took a pic then she went into lewis' driver room. ↳ynhamfan1 omfg that's actually so crazy i would've pass out 😭

lhamfan67 wonder if were gonna get another insta story selfie saying "omw to watch my man secure a podium 🏆💋"...?

↳ynhamfan72 hopefully 🤞

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

ynlewisupdates

Liked by lhamfan28, ynfan81 and 78,981 others

ynlewisupdates Seeing red in Canada for race day !! Y/n is again watching the race from lewis’ driver room !

view all comments

lhamfan68 they are such cuties 🫶

ynhamfan44 hopefully we’ll see her in the merc garage soon

↳lhamfan91 she’s been at the podiums.. ↳ynhamfan44 yeah but we don’t really have pics of it..it would be nice to see her being supportive ↳lhamfan91 it would be nice for you ?? he’s said how supportive she is… your just being weird 😭

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

yourinstagram

Liked by lewishamilton, devonleecarlson and 6,159,944 others

yourinstagram london with roscoe and friends🤍

view all comments

yasminediba need more guitar lessons please 🙏

↳yourinstagram of course 😘 anytime !!

lewishamilton miss you beautiful ❤

↳yourinstagram miss you more !! cant wait to see you 😘😉

ynfan62 they're so in love.. when will it be my turn 😖

yourbrother roscoe is the sweetest 😇

↳lewishamilton he loves spending time with his mom ↳yourinstagram 🥹❤ ↳lhamfan44 "his mom " oh how i love my parents

lhamfan68 she's truly living my dream life

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

YNLNupdates

Liked by lhamfan28, ynfan81 and 178,981 others

YNLNupdates Y/N arriving for qualifying & watching in the Mercedes garage.

view all comments

ynlvrr44 oh she's serving...🤭

highfashlvrr the dolce & gabbana denim corst is eatinggg !!!

lhamfan60 she looks so cute !!!

ynhamfan44 omg her cheering lewis on, what a cutie !!

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

YNLNupdates

Liked by lhamfan28, ynfan81 and 98,981 others

YNLNupdates Y/N arriving for the race & watching in the Mercedes garage, and y/n watching the podium.

view all comments

ynhamfan44 her crying is so real 😭

lhamfan28 love seeing her so happy !!

ynfan81 i cant wait for more race outfits

lhamfan81 she's so beautiful wow

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

yourinstagram

Liked by lewishamilton, devonleecarlson and 16,159,944 others

yourinstagram this weekend in london with family has been so lovely, got to celebrate my nieces birthday then saw lew stand on the podium at home !! a weekend filled with many happy tears 🥲 ❤

view all comments

lhamfan28 awww the little kid with roscoe

yoursister baby khai missed you !! she love's her uncle lewis 😇

↳yourinstagram awwe love you !! 💞

lhamfan81 the stuffed lewis is so cute !! 😭

lewishamilton im so lucky to have you in my life... i love you so much !! 😘❤

↳yourinstagram i love you more than you'll ever know !!!!!!! 🥰

ynlvrr44 i love seeing y/n so happy in a relationship !!

carmenmmundt lovely to meet you beautiful girl !!

↳yourinstagram sooo nice to meet you angel !!

devonleecarlson most perfect girl in the world 🪐🌍

liked by yourinstagram

ynfan81 oh to be lewis loved by y/n 😭

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

lewishamilton

Liked by yourinstagram, georgerussell63 and 19,159,944 others

lewishamilton There’s no place like home with the people you love !! Every year I’m blown away by the love and energy here. Without it, the team and I wouldn’t have had the result that we did. Still a ways to go, but Silverstone I love you deep ~

view all comments

yourinstagram indescribable amount of love for you !! 💞

↳lewishamilton love you love you love you my pretty girl !!! ❤

lhamfan55 oh to be loved like y/n by lewis

georgerussell63 congratulations on the podium 👊🏼 !!

liked by lewishamilton

mercedesamgf1 Every weekend with Y/n is a great weekend 😎

devonleecarlson my pretty girlfriend

↳lewishamilton well MY pretty girlfriend... ↳yourinstagram nothing wrong with sharing me lew 🤭😘 ↳lewishamilton as long as i dont have to share all of you 😉 ↳devonleecarlson okay gross, don't do that in front of me take it to the bedroom...🙄

lhamfan5 need to see them married like yesterday

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

634 notes · View notes

xomakara · 3 months ago

Text

Office Secrets

SUMMARY | You're in a relationship with your boss, Yunho. Except no one in the office knows that you're together.

PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE | Manager!Yunho, Employee!Reader, non-idol au, established relationship, smut, secret relationship,

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (female giving/male receiving), praise kink, pet names, office sex, bedroom sex, creampie

LENGTH | 8,502 words

TAGLIST | --

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet

@othersideoutlawsnetwork @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi there. Linda here. Here's another Yunho fic lolololol. Thank you @aaagustd for the beautiful banner~ And now I'm going to cry in a corner. Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚

You pushed away from your desk, rolling your eyes as the girls from your team excitedly talked about Head Manager Jeong. They discussed that he is handsome, single, and looking.

It was like they were shopping for him. You were sure one of them was planning to try and snatch him up. You couldn't blame them, but it didn't matter anyway. They would never find out about your relationship with Yunho because no one knew. It was the reason why he wasn't your emergency contact or anything. You didn’t have pictures of him on your phone, and he didn’t have any of you either. You didn’t do couple-like things together like going to a restaurant or seeing a movie. It was always back and forth between each other's apartments.

Your attention was brought back to the present when one of your team members asked if you agreed with the sentiment that Yunho was attractive. You looked around the room, the women waiting for you to answer.

The truth was yes. He was beyond attractive but you couldn't exactly tell the other women that you've fucked him on every surface of both his and your apartment.

"Yeah. I mean he's cute, I guess," you answered before turning your attention back to your computer screen.

"Just cute? Have you seen his face?" One of the women asked.

"I mean I see him almost every day, so yeah. I have."

"That's right, you guys are friends, right?"

You were not going to call your relationship with Yunho a friendship. It was too complicated.

"I don't know, we have mutual friends. So I see him at group outings sometimes," you explained.

It was the truth, but not the full truth.

You saw him all the time, but not in the way these women were imagining. You saw him in the shower. On the couch. His bed. Your bed. You saw him without his clothes on, panting beneath you. Above you. You saw him in ways you were sure they could never imagine. So yes, you would call your relationship a friendship, just not the type these women were assuming.

You continued with the work on your computer, ignoring the chatter about the rest of the company's team leaders and managers. They were all young and handsome and single, so it made sense that you all had been a hot topic at work lately.

Yunho had become the new target now that some of the others had been spoken for. Hongjoong was already married, and you had heard that he was going to be a father. Yeosang had recently gotten into a relationship. San had a girlfriend for the past few months and Seonghwa had just announced his engagement to his longtime girlfriend.

It was the reason why all the women in your department were so focused on the remaining four single men in the company.

Yunho, Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho were the only ones who were still available.

But even then, the relationship you have with Yunho wasn't conventional.

No one knew that the two of you were together.

Not a soul.

The secret had been eating away at you.

It had been going on for months now and you were sick of it. You just wanted to be able to hold his hand or kiss him in public. To let the world know that the man is yours.

It was frustrating.

Yunho wasn't just some fling or casual boyfriend. You cared for him deeply and the idea that people would think of him as being available and on the market made you uneasy. He is yours and you are his.

"Team Leader?" One of the girls spoke up, "Are you listening?"

You nodded, "What were you saying?"

She laughed, "We were wondering how you would rate Manager Jeong. He's single, so it wouldn't hurt to let us know. We could put in a good word for you if you wanted."

Your eyebrows furrowed. You did not need the girls to put on a good word for you when he was already yours. The sex was great, his dick was great. Everything was just great.

"Uh," you were about to respond but you were cut off.

"Manager Jeong, you're here."

You looked up and watched Yunho enter the room, nodding his head in acknowledgment. "Ladies, can I borrow Team Leader Y/L/N for a second?"

"Of course. Take your time."

He smiled, before walking towards your desk.

"Is everything okay?" You asked as you got up and followed him into the hallway.

"Everything is fine. I just need you to come with me," he explained as he walked down the hall.

You were confused, but you continued to follow him anyway. Opening the door to his office, he gestured for you to go inside. He closed the door behind you, making sure it was locked before he pulled you close to him.

"Why did you want to see me?" You asked as his lips moved down to your neck.

"I heard the girls talking," he began. "They think I'm handsome."

"I never said you weren't," you responded, tilting your head so he had better access to your skin.

"What would you rate me? They were asking."

"I think you'd know the answer to that question," you smirked as he kissed along your collarbones.

"You're right. I already know." He pulled away, a small smile on his lips. His hands rested on your hips, pulling your body closer to his. "But it would be nice to hear it, wouldn't it?"

"Fine," you could feel his breath on your skin. "You are a 10. Satisfied?"

He chuckled, "It's a start."

You rolled your eyes before he leaned down and kissed you. His tongue slipped into your mouth, the feeling causing a fire in the pit of your stomach. His hands moved down from your waist to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. He lifted you up onto his desk, your legs wrapping around his waist. His lips traveled down your jaw to the sweet spot on your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth. Your hands moved up to his hair, tangling in his soft locks.

"Fuck," you breathed out as his lips moved further down your chest.

"Tell me how much of a 10 I am again," he teased as he nipped at the exposed skin.

"10. Fuck, a 100."

"Mmm," he hummed against your skin, "Good."

"Baby, we're at work."

He didn't care. He moved his hands up the skirt of your dress, grabbing a fistful of the fabric and yanking it up to your waist.

"Don't care," he said as he kissed down your neck and onto your chest. His hands moved to your bra, unclasping it with ease.

"Yunho," you whined. "Someone could walk in."

"I don't care," he repeated. He pulled your bra off, tossing it onto the ground. "Maybe it's time to show everyone that I'm yours and that you're mine. I think the rumors about me need to be addressed and quenched," he stated as his hands roamed across the expanse of skin.

"And how do we do that, Team Leader Jeong?" You looked up at him.

"Oh baby, it's very simple. It's called teamwork. Team Leader Y/N, would you please allow me the honor of helping you and me fuck in my office for the first time? You see, this is something that has been on the to-do list and we can finally cross this out. Not only is this to prove to everyone you're the love of my life, but it also shows everyone that I'm your man," he said softly against the column of your throat before kissing his way to your ear. "Also I want to see what face you'll make with your coworkers only meters away. What about that, Team Leader, will that please you?"

A soft moan escaped from your parted lips at the thought.

Yunho pressed his hips to yours. His clothed bulge was hard, hot, and ready for you, but he didn't give you that right away. Not yet.

His tongue dipped to the top of the neckline of your dress.

"Wait..."

"Please? Be a good girl and let me take care of you, I will take such good care of my pretty girl."

"Did you at least lock your office door? What if someone hears?"

"Already locked it, babe." He pulls your dress lower until your breasts pop free. "As far as your pretty noises, can you try to be good and keep yourself quiet, pretty? Or do you want me to stuff your panties in your mouth? Or do you want my fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet?"

"I'll be good. I'll be good."

Yunho smiles, happy. As much as he would love to hear your moans and screams, he's going to have to wait for that later. He's already excited at how your hair and clothes would look disheveled once you two are done with fucking like rabbits.

He drops a peck onto the crown of your head as he nudges your legs apart. His fingers crawl into the soaked panties, drawing lazy circles into the folds that make you gasp his name.

"Remember, stay quiet," Yunho whispered in a teasing tone. "Unless you really want the entire building to hear you."

You tried your best not to moan. It was a losing battle when his thumb teased your clit, circling it.

"Look, Team Leader, your team is in the area outside this door," he murmured in your ear. "They'll know for sure what we are doing here."

"Yunho." You mewled. "I don't care. I want everyone to know that you're mine. I don't want the rest to think that you're the perfect dream that they can chase," you whimpered.

"You know I only have my eyes on you." He takes your chin between his thumb and finger, raising it to lock eye contact. "You're the perfect dream of mine and I intend on spending every day making you happy. You're my pretty, my baby, mine."

The praise has you whimpering under his touch, pleading for more and more.

It doesn't take long for your slick to drench your panties and it's amazing how wet Yunho can get you within a matter of minutes. The cold air makes your exposed breasts ache but the thought of having sex with Yunho, in his office, is sending you into a heated state.

"My beautiful," Yunho whispers sweet compliments, leaning in to kiss your lips before he sinks into the valley of your chest.

His mouth feels wet and his lips are cold against your skin, nipping and lapping his tongue out for a taste. You clutch your fingers in Yunho's locks, pulling his hair softly in your grasp. The more your sensitive nipples are played, the hotter your body feels.

He's marking your flesh with his hands, tongue, lips, and teeth, claiming you. He sucks and laps his tongue against your nipples while his other hand draws circles with your swollen clit.

"You look so gorgeous," Yunho hums, "All these hickeys look so good." He pulls his hand from between your soaked lips, and he pushes a couple of his fingers into your mouth.

Your eyes lock. You both stare at each other with blown eyes. You taste and lick and moan for his fingers and he curls them around your mouth as a gesture, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Spread your legs for me, babe. Can you be a good girl and let my fingers make a mess of you?"

You nod. Your throat is tight, and it takes all of the willpower you possess not to rock your hips when Yunho pulls your underwear to the side.

Your heart hammers away when you catch the hungry look in your boyfriend's eyes. He dips a digit to the knuckle into you, his fingers cold to the heat between your thighs, and you bite his fingers to muffle your moans.

"Shh," he chides in a husky whisper. His middle finger sweeps along the slick of your walls and curls to rub against the spot inside that sends your back arching and fingers clawing onto Yunho. "If you're loud, I will have to take my hand away and who would take care of your poor pussy?"

You try your best to stay quiet despite Yunho adding more fingers. The fingers of his other hand was still in your mouth and his thumb was stroking the column of your throat. His gentle kisses pepper over the salty skin of your cheeks and chin and along your jaw.

"That's it, my sweet girl. You're so perfect. This pussy is just fucking perfection," he moans lowly and adoringly into the crook of your neck, "you're mine, yeah? Every last gorgeous part is mine to love."

His hand quickens and he drives his digits in further. His own erection was hardening to painful proportions in his pants. You're clamping hard on his hand, but Yunho manages to slip a fourth finger in and curls them perfectly against your spot.

Pleasure winds up at the base of your spine and belly. You moan around the fingers in your mouth, the fingers in your pussy, and you reach out blindly to grab at anything of Yunho.

"Suck my fingers, baby," he coaxes. He watches the saliva-soaked digits sink and vanish down your throat. He revels at the way you're taking his thick, long fingers. He has all his fingers shoved in your mouth, your pussy, and he loves the wet and hot feeling of you taking everything he gives you.

"That's my pretty baby, my good girl," his words are thick with fondness and desire. He can see you're losing your composure; Yunho presses a smile and kisses against the curve of your throat, "You're being so good for me. Cum, I have you, baby girl."

His hand in your mouth retreats to replace your lips with his own. You scream for Yunho into his mouth, the force of your orgasm hitting you like a bus.

Wet and sloppy sounds come from his digits fucking into your pulsing heat. You twitch, and then relax, going limp in his arm.

Yunho releases the suction of your lips. "Feel better?"

You swallow and nod. A flush heats up your neck and your face and a sweat beading against your neck and collar bones. "Your turn now?"

"Anything you want," Yunho removes his fingers from your hole with a soft, squishing sound and smirks at how your inner walls fluttered around his hand's absence. "But first, clean my fingers, baby. They're filthy from your cum."

You don't even protest and just put your boyfriend's cum covered digits past your lips to lap it up and suck the remnants. Yunho growls, not because his fingers are still sensitive to the suction, but because he loves the picture of you devouring the wetness of his hand.

"Good job," he praises and you mewl, knowing he loves to play and praise you in bed. "Good fucking job," he leans down for a filthy open-mouth kiss to swipe a lick into your mouth, to have a taste himself. "Now you can suck me off, babe. And then when we go home, you can ride the hell out of me. How's that?"

"Sounds perfect," you say as you lick your lips, sliding off the desk only to sink unto your knees, hands already working at the belt of his trousers and undoing the button and fly.

"So eager," he chuckled in a low tone, hand petting your hair and lightly taking a hold to angle your head upwards to look him in the eye. "Suck me off, baby. Suck it off nicely so I can come in your pretty mouth."

It takes only moments until your hand grabs around his hard cock and slowly jerks him off, his pre-cum slicking the tip. Then, Yunho is letting out a pleased and shuddery groan when he sees you lick his slit. The soft tip of your warm tongue slides against the heated length.

Your soft, pink lips look absolutely stunning on him. The way you close your eyes to really get the best feel as you bob up and down his length makes his balls tighten and his hips buckle for more. You moan on his dick and the vibrations drive him wild. You begin to focus on his slit again with soft presses, kissing and caressing before taking the full length into your hot and velvety mouth.

When the head hits the back of your throat and you feel your lips against the base, you manage to look up. The way he looks at you with loving, darkened eyes, you just want him to come so hard and messy inside your mouth.

Yunho calls you a good girl, how amazingly gorgeous you are for him and no one else, and the praise makes you ache to please him.

"Such a good job, you're such a sweet girl for me." Yunho coos as he brushes his hands against your cheek. "Ready for me? Fuck, ready baby?"

You feel him throb hard and warm cum shoots out onto your awaiting tongue, and Yunho grunts as he holds himself from slamming hard in your throat. You eagerly drink him and make soft noises as the taste coats your taste buds. You just wanted to savor his essence. He tastes fucking delicious.

"Should we just leave early today, baby?"

You let his dick go with a pop and wipe the excess wetness that had leaked out the corner of your mouth. "We have an appointment with our PR team later, remember?"

"Shit, really?"

"Yeah." You got up from the floor, pulling his head down for a small kiss. "But we can always finish at your place when we are done. You did say that I can ride the hell out of you."

"I did say that, didn't I?" Yunho chuckles.

Both of you straighten up your clothes and made yourself as presentable as you can. Yunho picks up your bra, which lays forgotten on his office floor and tucks it into the inside pocket of his blazer.

"Until tonight, babe," Yunho whispered into your ear as you leaned up to give him one last kiss before unlocking the door and slipping out of your boyfriend's office.

You return to your desk where your coworkers sit gossiping amongst each other.

"You were in there for a while, Team Leader."

"Did Manager Jeong yell at you? Did you get in trouble?"

"What happened there?" They asked.

"Just a lot of boring things, you know?" You lied as you sat down at your desk. "Just some marketing strategies and all that boring stuff you don't wanna hear about. Super uninteresting."

"Nothing exciting, then? Too bad."

"Definitely," you said, grabbing a pen. "Nothing exciting at all."

A few days later, you're sitting at your desk again working late on some data analysis for next month's projected sales. Everyone has gone home for the night so Yunho sits on the corner of your desk.

"Let's go out for dinner. Are you almost done here?"

"Mhmm, a few more reports and then we can leave," you responded. You rolled back the sleeves of Yunho's white button-up shirt as you looked at the reports. It was a little big on you, the shirt hanging off a single shoulder. It seemed like no one knew that it was his.

"I can't believe you wore one of my shirts to the office, baby," Yunho smirked, the sight of his clothes hanging off your lithe frame making his dick hard.

"Whose fault is it that I don't have any of my clothes at your place?" You laughed, leaning up for a quick peck and tugging the ends of his hair gently. "Besides, I only wear the shirts that you don't wear to the office. The girls would die to know that I get to wear your shirts."

"Fair," He kissed you once again before getting up, fixing the collars of the shirt and kissing the top of your head, "Maybe we should just move in together, baby. After all, you do spend more time in my bed than yours."

"Maybe..." You looked over your computer and bit the top of a pen, thinking over the suggestion. "If you give me like seventy-five percent of your closet space. If not, I will need more than fifty percent of space."

He chuckles at your demands. "I think you can just take up all my closet space. So let's move in together, yeah? You and I. One place, all of our stuff."

Your face softened and he found himself falling a little bit harder for your cute expression. "Sounds wonderful. But I expect lots of quality cuddles from the very handsome Manager Jeong."

"Only from Manager Jeong? Not from your boyfriend named Yunho?" He lets out a little pout, one that has you swooning for this big man's charm. "But I'll give you all the cuddles. The highest quality cuddles that one could ever ask for, babe."

"I never realized that the serious, stern team manager was this big baby behind closed doors." You rolled your eyes and snorted a giggle.

"This big baby has a lot of feelings for you," he snickered and grabbed your face in between his two hands to pepper kisses across the soft expanse. "You're stuck with me," he mumbled, then kissed your forehead. "Can't get rid of me that easily. We've been together for a few years, babe."

"What a scary thought," you hummed.

"In all seriousness though, moving in together? Be my official roommate?"

"What a ridiculous man you are." You stuck your tongue out teasingly at him. "I'm all up for it. Yes, yes, a hundred times yes. I'll move in with you. You're stuck with me too, silly."

"Then it's settled." Yunho swooped in to kiss you. "Now finish that report so that we can finally get out of this godforsaken office and eat dinner."

"My hero." You replied, kissing him a few more times. You turned towards your screen once again, cracking a smile to yourself.

After finishing the last few minutes of work and packing up your items for the night, you left your desk.

The company parking was nearly empty except for a handful of people who stayed behind, leaving Yunho and you alone. Your car is parked by his.

"Got everything?" he asked and took your hand, playing with your fingers and rings absentmindedly while waiting for a response. "Are you sure you don't have a toothbrush or underwear or anything else you might be forgetting in there? I don't want any emergency midnight bathroom runs, baby girl."

"You'll buy it for me, Yunho. That's what boyfriends do. Now come on, I'm hungry, aren't you?" You tugged on his hand with a whine.

"You're a brat, babe. I have spoiled you too much, I see," He pressed a gentle peck on the crown of your forehead. "Let's drop your car off at your place and then grab dinner and spend the night at mine? No work, just us together in my bed. Yeah?"

"Hmm, how about dropping off my car, going to your place and ordering takeout, and watching movies in bed, snuggled up and warm under the sheets until we both fall asleep, because it sounds kind of like heaven and I've worked so, so hard today." You mumble with a sulk into his shoulder.

"You got yourself a plan, baby. A very nice plan, too. Let's do what my little darling wants for a change," Yunho, now leaning against your car, opened the door for you and you slipped in, a big smile growing across your face.

You clicked your seatbelt into place and started the car. You roll down the window when Yunho knocks on the glass, pressing a kiss onto your temple.

"I'll be right behind you the entire drive, okay?" He leaned in for a quick peck before fully withdrawing to his car.

"Make sure you do," you shouted, before rolling the window up and reversing out of the parking lot, heading towards your apartment to drop off your car.

From your wing mirror, you can see him pulling out too. The evening sunset catches the windscreen in a glare, but you see his figure behind the steering wheel.

He looks damn good. And all yours. You couldn't wait til you dropped off your car so that you can be in his, feel his long fingers on your thigh as he's driving.

And he does just that minutes later after dropping off your car and making the drive to his place. As the sun sets further in the sky, casting its reddish hues through the driver and passenger windows, Yunho has his free hand on your knee, stroking a soft, reassuring pattern into your skin and sometimes gripping or caressing gently.

And there you were, reclining back in your seat with a little smile, playing with his fingers and tracing random designs as he drove and occasionally holding the tips of his fingers to your lips and smiling shyly at him when the light would turn green again.

When the two of you step into the apartment building and walk towards the elevator, he presses his lips gently against your cheek. You sink into the touch as you both make your way up to his floor.

You slide his keys into his lock to unlock the door and open the entrance to his flat. Yunho sheds off his shoes and blazer, revealing his strong arms and neck in his perfectly fitting button-down and slacks.

You lean back into his chest and kiss the skin where the second to last button is left undone.

"Baby, if you keep doing that, there won't be any cuddles and takeout. I'll just end up fucking you the moment we get into the apartment," Yunho's voice rasped, and his hand curled around your neck.

"Cuddle first, fuck second. Got it," you giggled, tapping his arm for him to let you go so that you could wander his room and rummage into his drawer to grab a black t-shirt. He's so big compared to you, so his shirts practically drape over you and cover your butt and thighs. It feels like a dress and makes you want to prance around his flat and slip and slide on the wood floors and laze on his couch and his king-size bed.

With his shirt on and comfortable panties on, you made your way back to his living room and collapsed on the couch, exhaling with happiness as you smelled his musky and forest-scented laundry detergent that clung to his shirt. You threw your phone on his coffee table and grabbed the TV remote.

Yunho is in the kitchen getting the delivery menus to decide what kind of food to order for you. A few moments pass before he walks to the living room couch.

He sighs, taking the remote from you and muting the show that you had started.

"Hey, I was watching that," you complain, but your complaints turn to happy noises when his hands wander to hold and knead your hips.

"What do you want?" He hummed, dipping his face close to nip at the junction where your shoulder and neck met.

"Hmm?" Your brain had already started to become a little hazy from his attention. His tongue felt like heaven against your skin. You brought a hand up to twine into his hair and arched your back to rub up into his body.

"I asked what you wanted to eat, sweetheart," he chuckled. "What are you hungry for tonight?"

"Ummm, oh," you hummed. "Aren't you just delicious?" You said with a sassy wink.

"You're so cheesy," Yunho scoffed, his eyes softening when he looks at your face, lit up with an unreserved grin. He kissed your nose. "Want to order something spicy and pick a movie so we can snuggle and have you in my lap for the night, beautiful?"

"Yes please. You are always the best snuggler," you nodded. "Get out of your work clothes so we can snuggle to full capacity!"

"Alright, alright, I'm going!" Yunho laughed as he pulled away and disappeared into the other room. He changes, emerging minutes later in a black t-shirt and shorts. He plops on the sofa next to you and you reach out to curl into him.

"Which movie are we going to watch tonight?" Yunho asks as you wrapped your arm around his midsection.

"I wanna watch something scary."

"Of course you do. You love being a little scaredy-cat with my arms around you knowing that I don't get scared easily, huh? You can even play the cliché 'there is something outside' line just to cling onto me tighter," Yunho hummed as he scrolled through his streaming device to find a scary movie. "Scary movie it is."

You stick your tongue out and lay down with your head resting on his thighs. "Someday, I'll pick a horror movie that would scare the heck out of you. I'm going to team up with Wooyoung and Jongho to get you."

"In your dreams, beautiful," Yunho leaned over and flicked your forehead playfully. He settles back on the couch and drapes a blanket over your form before grabbing the remote and pressing play. "Enjoy the movie, cutie. Scream in terror for me." He chuckled.

"Fuck you, Jeong Yunho." You laughed as the title card flashes across the screen and the intro begins.

Halfway into the film, there is a jump scare and a scream from you makes Yunho roll his eyes. You're no longer resting on his lap, instead clutching at his abdomen and clinging to his toned body with the blanket tugged over your head.

You were shaking with fright, although you tried and failed to hide it.

"I told you it was a bad idea," he chuckles. Yunho holds out an arm and pulls you closer until you are tucked into him and his hold. You gasp and squeak each time the main characters react in fear as they are chased down, and even Yunho finds it funny how you squirm at every scare.

"Hate you," you squeak, slapping a hand on his chest. He mumbles that he is sorry and then kisses the top of your head, causing you to forget whatever had you in a momentary fit of irritation.

"Next time, pick a film less terrifying. Maybe one with action scenes and comedic undertones and pretty boys, hmm?" Yunho gives you a teasing smirk and then presses his nose into your hair. "Something to take our minds off of work. That sounds okay to you, princess?"

"Yeah." You sighed, squirming even deeper into his side. "Although, no promises that I won't cling to you more tightly."

He smiled into your hair and you settled down for the duration of the movie, hushed quietly and bundling yourself in the blankets you've wrapped around you.

Once the movie has finished, he sits you both up and stands with the phone. "Now, about that takeout. Do you still want it?" he asked. "I have the delivery service app pulled up. I can order if you like."

"Chicken," You blurted quickly. "Chicken and beer."

He laughs, swiping through his phone screen as he heads into the kitchen and flicks on the oven's dimmest light. You crawl down the sofa and lean to rest your chin on the countertop, admiring him as he leaned over his phone screen and flicked through, scrolling and selecting your favorites, tapping his fingers along the counter, before setting his phone aside.

He turned back around. His mouth widened into a smile at the sight of you looking up at him with a smile.

"How'd I get lucky to have you, baby girl?" Yunho smiled back.

"Duh, you asked," You teased with a roll of your eyes, sticking your tongue out. "Asking me out wasn't so scary, was it?"

"I thought you would've said no. Not that I was asking you out, of course, I was a bumbling fool at the start." He shrugged, ruffling his hair. "Too nervous around you, babe."

"So whipped, this guy," You mused, grinning so widely. "My big bad Yunho got so soft for me."

"Just for you," He blew a raspberry into his hand. "Just for the prettiest woman around."

"Did I mention that you're cheesy? That's right. It is also a full-time occupation and your one true calling, to make me cheesier than the most delicious, aged parmesan in all the lands and oceans."

He snorted in laughter. "You knew well enough that I was cheesy ever since college, baby. But in a good way."

"Your cheese will only keep on impressing and satisfying me. I can't live without your cheese, Yunho. You are a regular gold-star, straight A-cheese. The crème de la crème," You said.

"You're just as cheesy, baby. Even if you want to deny it," He booped your nose and you both laughed.

"Yunho?" You pouted.

"Yes?" Yunho perked up his brows at you and paused to look you directly.

"Can we finally tell everyone that we're together? I'm tired of just our friends knowing. And I'm tired of hearing all the girls talk about you. It's just getting annoying and tiresome, hearing them day and night and...they look at you," you babbled, mumbling, and not really finishing the last part of what was eating at you, as you looked down.

He envelopes you in a hug. "Why didn't you tell me you felt this way earlier, baby?" he whispered as you burrowed your head into his shoulders.

"Wasn't sure when or what the right time was to ask," you mumbled back into his chest.

"I have been waiting for your permission to tell all the people in the department to fuck off because you were mine," Yunho muttered as his hands rested on your lower back and he peppered butterfly kisses into your crown.

"So can I finally tell all the other girls to fuck off when they look at you? Can I finally walk around holding your hands and cuddling you in our lunch breaks? Can you hold me like this at the workplace and give me all of your sweet affections freely?" You murmured, tugging on his sleeve.

"Of course, baby." His answer made you look up at him and smile so brightly and it made his heart melt in the love and adoration he held for you. "Tell everyone you like that you have the sexiest and most handsome boyfriend in all the world. Because it's the absolute truth, darling."

"Love you, love you, love you. Thank you," you giddily hugged and squeezed him tight and he giggled a deep rumble as he rubbed up and down your back, his nose burying into your hair, inhaling deeply.

"I can't believe how whipped this man is," Yunho whispers affectionately. "Falling deeper and deeper in love with you, every day, baby."

"And does this man Yunho know how he will show his love?" You murmured with a cheeky smile, pressing a kiss at the base of his neck.

"How about I let this man make love to his girlfriend and he will show his love so deeply tonight?" His voice dropped as he grabbed your chin and tilted it to make eye contact. "Will that please and satisfy my baby girl?"

He didn’t give you a chance to reply. You moaned into his mouth, body pushing up to meet his touch. He huffs and presses kisses along your jaw. His mouth and tongue trails the smooth column of your neck.

He marked a hickey on the curve of your shoulder and his grip on your hips becomes slightly tighter. You heard him whisper your name between grunts, hands tangling into your hair and pulling at it slightly.

You smile and giggle at him with a smirk, cheeks slightly flushed as you trail your hand up to rest on his chest.

"Eat first, fuck later. You promised," You gave him a teasing smile as you shook your head and put your finger up to his lips.

The doorbell rings and the delivery man is here with your chicken dinner and Yunho lets out a string of curse words. "You're really evil, baby, making me wait." He mutters.

"I need to be fueled and filled first to satisfy my hungry baby and to give him all the pleasures and orgasms, yeah?" You coo.

He breathes. "Damn right you're gonna get filled," he promises darkly, "so don't complain if your legs give out tomorrow. It won't be my fault, baby. It won't."

"Hurry and get the food, Yunho." You whined, shoving him away.

Yunho quickly makes the trip to get the food, paying the delivery man extra and sending them on their way.

He returns back to the couch, sighing with frustration at you. "You know, you're gonna pay for that."

"Pay for what? I'm just hungry!" You smirk with a lilt of sass. "Aren't you? Feed me, please. Then you can have whatever you want after you feed your hungry girlfriend."

"What I want is already in front of me."

You woke up in Yunho's arms the next day, your head on his chest and tucked securely under his chin. It was only Saturday, but somehow, it felt nice to wake up, knowing that there wasn't much to worry about at work. Just staying with Yunho at his apartment and getting comfortable together in the warmth of his covers is a win-win and well-needed for the weekend.

Yunho shifts, his arms circling your waist and tucking you deeper in, the covers nearly tucked over your head.

It's so warm and you sighed with happiness into his chest, a smile blooming on your lips, nose nuzzling into the crook where his neck and shoulder met.

He stretched, yawned, and groaned, a husky growl escaping his lips as he grabbed you by the waist and dragged you up so you're nose to nose with him.

He squints his eyes open and they brighten when they make contact with you. "G'morning, cutie pie," he rasps, his voice deep. "Sleep well last night?"

"Best sleep ever. Especially in the arms of the best cuddler ever in the universe."

"Anything you'd like to do today? Let's eat breakfast."

"You know what I want for breakfast?" You murmured, your hand reaching for his already semi-hard cock and pumping it slowly.

"Are you asking me to feed my hungry baby for a morning meal of protein, huh?" Yunho's lips curled, one brow raising and his eyes half-lidded, lust creeping into his expression.

"It's the best thing to ever wake up to and eat," you purr as your hand moves to the hem of his boxers and dip your hand inside, gripping him and feeling him in your palm as it twitched at your touches.

Yunho growled and pushed your hand onto his hard length.

"Gimme what I want. I'm hungry, baby. Please." Your voice is low and needy. He throws his head back and it was just such a sight seeing his Adam's Apple bobbed up and down.

"You and your 'morning snack,' princess. Of all things to be greedy with." Yunho grunts when you let go to pull at the waistband of his boxers, shoving them down and his erect member springs free, bouncing upwards.

"Just hurry up and feed me. Please, sir."

His gaze darkened.

"Call me sir again. I want you to." He smirks.

"Please, sir. Let me lick your thick meat popsicle," you muttered into his ear and he lets out a soft noise, chest rumbling with an amused sound of arousal.

"When have you gotten this lewd, baby?" he smirks and his large hand pulls you closer, his fingers flexing at the swell of your ass.

You kneel at the edge of the bed, eagerly taking his length in hand and leaning forwards to lick a line up the underside. Your tongue teases his slit before swirling around the tip, taking him fully into your mouth and bobbing your head. His large hand cups the side of your face and tugs gently on your hair.

He is lost in the sight. Your fingers curl around the base of his cock, and you work it in conjunction with your mouth to take in as much as you can. He twitches against the inside of your cheek.

"Fuck." You whimper when his hand tugs at your hair harder.

"More, beautiful. Let me hear you choke more around my dick. Love to hear your little noises." He chuckles darkly and you are keen.

Your throat is relaxed now, accustomed to the fullness, the thickness of his heavy cockhead sliding deep enough to bump the back. You gag, swallow, and take him further, hearing the strangled moan leave his throat, as his head drops back and his hands find their way into the back of your head. His hands tangle through your hair, twisting in it gently. He breathes a ragged sigh, and tugs your hair, thrusting into your mouth.

You sit there, blinking up at him with your doe eyes, your mouth full, so stretched and sore.

It is one thing to see his face in his daily life, where he is nothing more than a strict superior, handsome beyond words. Another thing entirely, you think, to have this incredible man fisted in the palm of your hand and shivering at the ministrations of your skilled mouth. He looks good like this, in disarray.

"Fuck, I need to be in you. Your mouth isn't enough, pretty girl." He mumbles.

He helps you up, giving you a soft look when you turn away with a flush on your face as you wipe saliva off of your face. He can't help tugging at his lips and chuckles, pressing a wet kiss into the column of your neck and holding you back into the nest of blankets, pinning your legs around his waist, and wrapping your arms around his neck.

His hands splayed across your backside, the other sliding between your bodies, stroking down your abdomen, leaving you a shivering mess in the way he pressed and touched every sensitive spot you had. Your legs tighten around him, your moans encouraging his touch to grow rougher.

"Fuck...hurry," you pant as you rut against him and he coaxes a moan out of your lips when his tongue twists around your nipples. He laps, sucks at one nub, then the next, switching from breast to breast until the pink buds stand perked. He grinned smugly up at you when you mewled helplessly into his neck. "Yunhoooo~" you pouted.

His hand was in between your bodies, thumb at your clit, index teasing your drenched lips, his other arm curved and pulling you even closer.

"Let me fuck you so deep," he murmurs, and slides the tip of his fingers along your slit. "I'll fill you, so, so deep," and he slips one finger inside, and you moan. "So very good, my sweet baby. So wet and needy," he sighs when he takes his digit away.

He stops, breath panting, staring deep into your eyes. He gives a brief, lazy smirk before the corners of his lips curve down into a soft, genuine smile. He leans to press a gentle kiss onto your forehead before whispering a husky 'I love you, babygirl."

"Love you, sweetheart," you exhaled and took in another sharp breath when he rolled his hips, grinding his thick cock along your folds, coating his length in the arousal of your pussy.

He positioned himself above you and he didn't even hesitate to slide his thick cock into your swollen lips.

"You're so fucking hot," he groaned, wrapping both of your legs around his waist, gripping your ass to lift you, burying himself deep inside you.

"Oh God." Your head slammed into the mattress and you panted, gazing up at him with furrowed brows and glazed eyes.

"Do you feel me, baby?"

"I—Yes..." you moaned, and Yunho grunted softly, thrusting into you. He pumped inside of you, kissing along the curve of your shoulder.

"F-fuck," you moaned out. "Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck, yes. Keep going,"

"So demanding," he growled. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against your collarbone, his warm tongue flicking out briefly to graze the soft skin.

You squirmed beneath him. The steady slapping sounds of wet skin echoed throughout the room. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation.

Yunho's cock pounded into you mercilessly. He groaned out, loud and deep in pleasure, one hand stroking the softness of your curves as he gazed at your naked form.

"You're fucking amazing," Yunho muttered against your skin. His eyes focused on you as he continued to push inside of your heat. "The best fucking view to wake up to."

The fire in your stomach tightened. Yunho could tell your legs were beginning to feel weak from being wrapped so tightly around him and he slid his free hand to your ass, pressing you deeper against his body.

You wrapped your arms around him and grasped at the smooth, toned planes of his back. You bucked wildly as he brought your body flush with his, his cock reaching as deep as it could go.

"God, just fucking cum inside me. Mark me. Fill me up." You whispered, staring at him, into the depths of his chocolate brown eyes.

Your body was slick with sweat, you were becoming more and more lost in a trance. You loved him and that was all you cared about, right at that moment.

"Baby." Yunho gripped your thighs roughly, leaning forward so his lips ghosted across yours as he breathed. "Gonna cum."

You took his lower lip into your mouth. You nibbled lightly, kissing and tugging at it while you moaned.

Your heart was swelling from the amount of affection flowing through your veins. You released his lip, staring deep into his eyes. "Me too. So close," you panted.

"I'm—fuck! Baby, I'm so close." He whimpered out and squeezed his eyes shut.

"J-just fuck me deeper, deeper." Your legs shook against the curve of his waist. He nodded and smashed his lips against yours, muffling your loud scream with his mouth.

"Agh, baby, I'm cumming," Yunho huffed in his final few thrusts. His hot seed spurted inside of your womb. His deep and low groans joined your breathless whimpers and squeals.

When Yunho pulled his soft cock out, a heavy stream of white spills out of your cunt. Your whole body tenses with pleasure, a heavy wave of orgasm washed over and sent you shaking as you whimpered out.

Yunho groaned and pulled your into a tight embrace, tangling the sheets and blanket messily around you as he clung onto your body to keep you warm.

"Baby," He mumbled softly, planting soft kisses all over your cheek as his fingers slid gently into your hair, and traced little circles on your scalp, making you giggle a little.

"Did you feel satisfied now, love?"

"Mmm yes," you smirked happily and returned his kiss with another little kiss on his nose.

Yunho pulled the sheet up and around you both, laying on his side and pulling you towards him as he pulled the covers and pillows towards him, you both got comfortable and cuddled in each other's embrace, no sounds save the sound of you both breathing and inhaling in your lover's scent and enjoying your little pillow talks and whispering to one another.

You spent the rest of the weekend with Yunho as you discussed and looked at places to move together to a bigger apartment where you both could build and start the new phase of your life together as boyfriend and girlfriend.

"You and I, love. Us against the world. Can't wait for the future to unfold." Yunho grins happily, taking your left hand and placing a tender kiss at the base of your fourth finger, hinting subtly to an unspoken promise he intends for the near future.

"Me too, baby. I want this future. Our future." You gushed, pulling Yunho's face to give him a loving and long kiss.

The weekend has gone and a new work week begins. Yunho pulls up into the parking lot with you, holding your hand as you both walk into the building together.

Every girl in the office gaped. You and him, in matching clothing and dressed sharp for work, striding hand-in-hand, greeted them with a cheerful smile and hello. Yunho had an arm wrapped around your waist, guiding you towards the reception, towards your department.

The two of you pressed the buttons of the elevator at the same time. It dinged, sliding open to allow you to board and ride up.

One by one, the ladies in your office filed in behind. It was so crowded now that some were forced to wait until the next round.

Then your group stopped at the floor that the Marketing Department was at. Your desk was further down, closer to Yunho's office and that was the best part of your day- being so close to him.

Everyone went to sit down at their respective desks, booting up their PCs and sorting files that were due at the end of the day.

And of course, this meant that there wasn't a moment to breathe once everyone realized that you had come into the building holding Yunho's hand, walking with him.

As soon as you parted from Yunho and sat at your desk, the girls from your team crowded your personal workspace with a giddy gasp.

"Team Leader! How did this happen?!" One girl squealed.

"Are you and Manager Jeong...?" Another began, before raising an expectant eyebrow.

"So? Tell us, please!" They chirped in a group.

"Manager Jeong and I..."

Just then, Yunho approaches your desk, his hand resting on your shoulder. He leans in, brushing a small kiss on your cheek. "Let's get lunch later, okay baby?" He spoke so tenderly that your heart fluttered and butterflies swarmed your belly.

You blush and nod shyly as his eyes and smile meet yours, watching as the others in the department can't contain their excitement and awe.

The way he talked to you, how he looked at you, his genuine sweetness and smiles he showed you...you knew that your days would get even better with him. And this wasn't going to end, no.

Yunho was the love of your life and he was very determined to keep it that way.

No, nothing was going to separate what you two had and the fact you and Yunho were boyfriend and girlfriend was not a secret anymore and neither would anything change- you'd be there for him and he'd always be there for you.

#illusionnet #atzhouse #cromernet #wonderlandnet #other side outlaws network #kvanity #ksmutsociety #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut

611 notes · View notes

hyperfixatingonbowuigisohard · 1 year ago

Text

NEW FANFIC!

Just wait for the next chapter, I promise it'll be worth the bookmark lol!

#I have fanart too #super mario bros #luigi #mario #Isekai Shokudou AU #Restaurant to Another World #Restaurant to Another World AU #Fanfic #super mario bros fanfic #bowugi #mareach

13 notes · View notes

sweetheartsaku · 4 months ago

Text

—shoto todoroki ; stars around my scars

a/n: [fem!reader] pt 2 can u tell i like another universe aus CAN U TELL?!!!?! but its ok im behind bars anyway what else can i do😢😢 truckloads of love to @miyamoratsumuu and @katsukistofu for supporting me uueue 🥹🩷

fuchsias !

todoroki shoto who is so gentle with you.

he loves you so, so so much but doesn’t say it— but he says it in his pursed lips and gentle tone, the way he grazes his knuckles over the apple of your cheekbone, the way he holds your face like the world in his hands, and the way he only uses his warm hand to position your jaw to fit his lips better; so, its just enough.

he’ll always be a sleepy boy in my eyes :(( always finding his head nudging your shoulder on the metro home and loves to be held when your cozied up in the sheets. he loves to be able to feel your hands soothe along his bare scarred back, he loves to he able to feel the other hand tangle through his hair effortlessly, and most importantly he loves the way your plush lips press against the crown of his hair.

he smiles so gently around you (as if it was ever?? rough??) and everyone always finds him staring. kaminari was the one who pointed it out. starer. though, his gaze is very endearing, his two-toned eyes always somehow finding their way to you. no matter how big the crowd is, he’ll always manage to find you (even in every other universe)

bonus hehe!!! stares at your lips as a plead for a kiss, always a little pout when you don’t exactly get the memo 🥹

they’re the same two-toned eyes that notice your slightest mood changes. the same pair of eyes that instantly snap towards you when your favourite restaurant appears nearby, the same pair of eyes that follow the way your eyebrows stitch, nose twitch, eyelashes flutter or eyes water. the same pair of eyes that’ll look at you with nothing else but pure love because theres no other words to even fathom the love in them (let alone his heart).

please kiss his scar i beg of you 🙁 it stings a little when he thinks about it, but it all flies out the window once your lips meet the corners. or when your hands trace around it, and fingertips closing his eyelids shut. it lulls him to sleep immediately, absolutely NAWT helping with the sleepy boy allegations (·•᷄∩•᷅ )!!

holds your face gently. and your hand. and your heart. and you. did i mention he’s really gentle? he gets all soft and chest gets all tingly at the thought of the entire universe at the end of his fingertips. he gets all quietly giddy when you place your hands ontop of the one one that was already on your cheek, and move your head so you press a peck to his palm.

wraps his scarfs around you. zips up your jacket for you. buttons your cardigans. rests his warm hand on your stomach under your shirt, rests his cold hand on your forehead to check if you’re sick. wipes his thumb over your tear-stained eyes. kisses your tears away.

#shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x you #shoto todoroki x y/n #shoto todoroki fluff #mha fluff #mha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #my hero x reader #mha oneshot #mha scenarios #mha headcanons #mha drabbles #todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x you

610 notes · View notes

orii-blogs-stuff · 2 months ago

Text

Had a bit of crisis of faith and decided to put all my aob works in an unrevealed collection for a few hours and now pulled them out of the unrevealed collections causing ao3 to think I've published new fics for some reason so if anyone's subscribed to me and got notifications from ao3 about me writing 13 new fics.... ya sorry about that :(

#ascendance of a bookworm #my writing #a restaurant in another world #join us for a bite au #aob: demigod edition #a drop of existential horror #Something I read on discord triggered me into a manic rage #and all I could think was #if all your sad ass could handle is retro aus that closely follow canon then fuck you you dont deserve to read my beautiful works #which caused me to put all my works in an unrevealed collection #till I remembered there were people out there who loved to read my fics and regulars who would comment and kudos #and the idea that they wouldnt be able to read my fics anymore made me very sad

9 notes · View notes

beardedjoel · 1 year ago

Text

pretty little wife | better now

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 3.9k words, a snippet of a day in the life of husband! joel and his lovely housewife | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, cum play, spit kink, exhibition kink, dirty talk, pet names for reader, brief mention of alcohol, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: not pretending this is anything other than some little fantasy i had that i needed to write out. i'm really excited about this one shot series for husband!joel though, i have some really fun (and depraved) ideas planned for these two for future blurbs so stayed tuned if you like this one! reblogs + comments are always loved and appreciated! ♡

i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡

How’s my pretty little wife today?

The words you look forward to each day, falling from your husbands lips in some form or another, whether it’s rasped tenderly in your ear, from between your legs as he smirks up at you, or from over your shoulder as he slams his cock into you, sending you to heaven and back down as soon as he can after walking in the door after work.

Joel asks the question today after walking up behind you in the backyard, his mouth already next to your ear, warm breath tickling along your skin there as he brushes your hair over your shoulder. The wiry texture of his beard nuzzles right into your neck, sending a thrill down your spine as his arms slide around your waist and hold you tightly to him, swaying you back and forth. The motion is soothing, reminding you that you’re right where you’re meant to be.

You can smell the workday on him - sweat and dirt and the outdoors, and the lingering scent of the cologne you’d given him this past Christmas. He’d sprayed it on this morning, as he does every morning since you bought it for him. Makes me think of you all day, he’d remind you while you’d watched from your bed with a teasing smile, sheet disheveled and draped over your naked body.

You breathe all of it in, savoring this scent unique to your husband, before touching your hand to where his rests around your belly and stroking it gently.

“Better now,” you answer. More times than not, that’s your response to his routine question, knowing it drives him wild, makes a long day of work ache a little less when he hears you say it.

“S’what I like to hear,” he says, a kiss on your neck leading up to your lips - a long, deep, ravenous kiss that already leaves you breathless. He pulls away so suddenly you nearly have whiplash, your head falling slightly into nothing, missing his lips.

“Smells good out here,” Joel comments, turning his nose up in the air slightly. “Usin’ the new pizza oven already?”

When you’d made a passing comment about wishing you could make wood fired pizzas at home, just like the ones a restaurant in town serves, Joel seemed to take it seriously, as he did with most things involving your wishes and desires. The next weekend, he’d hauled in bricks and began his work. You’d stepped out into the yard when you heard all the commotion, giving him a quizzical stare, and he’d simply grinned and shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world that he should be building his wife a pizza oven. You’d nearly teared up, feeling grateful and giddy with excitement at your new toy to experiment with.

Within a few weekends, Joel had finished his new project, always seeming to need one to have around the house, wiping the sweat off his forehead and gleaming with pride at it as he showed you the final product. You’d practically jumped for joy but settled on flinging yourself into his arms to show your appreciation. When that had turned into him fucking you on top of the kitchen counter moments later after he went inside to fetch a cold drink, you hadn’t minded one bit.

“I couldn’t wait,” you say with a grin. When Joel nuzzles your neck again you start to lose your train of thought. His lips press a gentle kiss right on your pulse point, and you sigh into it. “T-trying out margherita today,” you manage to squeak out.

“Hmm,” Joel says, seemingly contemplating the flavor choice in between latching his lips on your neck and sucking, marking you over and over. You’re sure the ones from mere days ago haven’t faded all the way, a smattering of them going right down to your tits, but Joel always needs a fresh mark on you as soon as they start to fade, a way for you to always remember you’re his. He grinds his hard length into your back on the next touch of his lips, and you arch into it a little, your cunt starting to ache more needily for him.

“F-fresh basil… from the… gar-” you gasp as he pulls you completely flush against his cock, letting out a little, devious laugh.

“Sounds fuckin’ delicious, baby,” he replies. His fingers reach down and toy with the front hem of your dress, delicately sliding his calloused fingers up your thighs, bunching the fabric as he goes. The warmth of his hands on your bare skin blazes a trail up to the apex of your thighs, finally cupping a hand around your warm heat. You instinctively grind into the heel of his hand, and can practically feel Joel smirking behind you. His fingers brush the outside of your panties, starting to rub circles on the wet fabric. He lets out a low growl, deep and needy in the back of his throat feeling the evidence of how much you’d anticipated him coming home.

“So wet for me already, huh, doll? Couldn’t wait f’me to get home ‘n take care of ya, I bet,” Joel taunts in your ear before sucking on the lobe, and you’ve gone breathless now, nodding your head. His fingers tease the edge of your panties again, finally slipping one underneath the fabric, feeling the obscenity of your wetness directly, and he lets out an impressed tut, sucking in air between his teeth. You nearly moan out at the smallest touch he’s giving you, the way his rough, worn fingers gently brush over your clit for just a split second.

“She’s so needy, ain’t she?” Joel coos in your ear, swiping a finger to your entrance and back to your clit. You can feel how slickness quickly gathers on Joel’s digits as he teases you. You squeeze your eyes shut and lean back into him, letting your head drop to his shoulder as pleasure wracks your body already.

“Mhm… needs you,” you murmur, turning your head towards his where he meets your lips, continuing steady strokes on your aching bundle of nerves. His lips are softer than you’d think, looking at the hardened grump behind them, but like so many parts of Joel, they are only soft for you.

“Needy, needy girl… good thing I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ my cock in that little cunt of yours all day.”

“A-all day?” you say with a little smirk, rutting your ass back into his throbbing length, and Joel groans with the friction.

“Second I pulled out of it this mornin’,” he replies, low voice drumming against your skin, and you shudder, desperate for what you know he’s about to do.

Another routine of yours - Joel comes home from work, and more days than not, he fucks you. And you enjoy every second of it, basking in the attention and his cock filling you up in the way nobody and nothing else can. You crave him night and day, never having gotten your fill, wondering if you ever could. His hunger for you in return only fuels the fire, a vicious circle the two of you seem to have no intention of breaking.

Your weakness lies completely in the man standing behind you, burying his fingers in between your legs and making you moan out wildly before he’s even had his way with you.

“Fuck, gotta get this cock in you, baby, split you open f’me so good, fuck you stupid,” Joel grunts suddenly, interrupting your swirling thoughts, withdrawing his fingers in a flash and leaving you whimpering. It’s not fair, the way he affects you.

Nobody should have this power over you, but the minute you’d met Joel, you couldn’t deny the way he’d made you feel. Masculine and warm, rough hands and broad shoulders that you’d clung to that same night you’d met him in a bar, fucking mere hours later in the bathroom. Even in your drunken haze you’d submitted to him fully, Joel having no problem ordering and throwing you around the bathroom like you were just a toy to play with, his little doll. You’d found that you could never look back after that night, the safety he represented to you, the adoration he showered you with, the way he fucked you like it was his last time every time. When Joel saw how willing you were to be his in the way he craved from a woman, there was no stopping the insatiable beast he became, hellbent on never letting another man feel your touch again. Joel promised you a good life, an amazing life, even, and in the last few years, he had more than delivered for you.

“Hush now, you’ll have what you want in a second,” he says, running a quick stroke of his fingers through your hair, giving it a tug. On principle, you let out a little mewl at the sensation, too many instances of your hair being tugged and pulled with Joel involved to not recall those memories with the pain of it. You hear the jangle of his belt as he frees himself from his jeans, the familiar sound of Joel’s thick, heavy cock slapping against his hand as he fists it. You’re already cock drunk without having seen the damn thing yet, and it’s nearly laughable how pliable you are when Joel’s involved. It’s always been that way - you’ve been happy to oblige his every desire, no matter when, where, how he wanted it, or the frequency. You were his to use, to pleasure, to fuck senseless, and you got off on the way all of it steadily built his need for you just as much as it did with your need for him.

“Please…” you whine, trying to slip out of his grasp and start for the sliding glass door to the house, making the assumption that he’d be taking you inside at any moment to take what he needed from you.

Joel immediately tightens his hold on you, a dark tut in your ear that goes straight to your clit.

“Not so fast, little doll,” he croons, hand grabbing your cunt through your dress again to hold you to him. “Right here,” he adds on, turning your body towards the outdoor dining table in the backyard.

“J-Joel… right here?” you question, knowing you shouldn’t. It won’t matter anyways. “The… t-the neighbors…” you whimper quietly as Joel crowds you against the table, tearing your dress up over your ass, revealing your lacy little thong to him. He groans at the sight of your bare ass ready for him to claim before roughly shimmying your underwear halfway down your thighs. He places a rough hand on your back, pressing you down into the table so that you’re completely bent over, your hands splaying out into the wood to support yourself.

“Let them see…” Joel says quietly, a heady murmur as he slips his cock between your thighs and notches himself at your weeping entrance. “Let them see how much I love fuckin’ my wife.” He pushes in on the last sentence, and you gasp at the stretch and burn of his girth. Your vision goes white for a moment with the mix of pure pain and pleasure, and your mouth hangs open, panting in delight as he fills you inch by inch.

“Mmm… such a sweet little pussy, honey…” Joel says quietly once he’s seated fully inside of you. He’s just as lost in the bliss of it as you are. “Know I’d fuckin’ live right here if I could.”

You give him a little moan of satisfaction, wiggling your hips to give yourself any sensation of movement from his cock. He places his hands on either side of your hips, squeezing his grip tightly enough to bruise before starting to thrust himself into you. You cry out in a yelp, the noise passing though your lips before you can even control it.

“Yeah…” you whimper, face pressed against the table, trying to peek up as Joel looms above you, like some higher being that has the power to decide your fate, to decide the pleasure or pain you’ll have to endure in this moment. And truthfully, you do worship him. The way he moves inside of you, makes you crumble underneath even the lightest of his touches. The way he spoils you in every regard - you’ve never wanted for a single thing for as long as you’ve been Joel’s, him vowing to take care of everything you ever need, and in return, you take care of everything he needs.

To some, it might seem like there’s a lack of balance in the way you do things, but fuck do you love it, you think as you desperately cling onto the table, manicured nails digging into the wood as Joel’s cock rams back into you, pressing so deep inside of you that you see stars.

You let out a low, strangled sound, whining as Joel begins to press against your cervix, the front of your thighs bumping into the table with every new thrust from him. He grunts with the exertion, fucking into you hard, taking what he wants, leaving you both breathless with the need for more of each other. You let Joel take and take and take because of how much he gives in return - while he loves to use you, he always makes sure you get every bit of pleasure you deserve for being so good to him.

When you continuously moan louder as Joel fucks you towards your high, you glance around, the small sliver of your brain that’s still rational worried about you two getting caught by your neighbors. The thought is equally mortifying as it is thrilling, but you decide you’d rather not deal with the embarrassment today if you can help it.

“Still worried about the neighbors, hm, pretty girl? I’ve got an idea,” Joel says, responding to your sudden nervousness. Before you can even answer, his hands are wrapping around your shoulders, urging you up from the table. You follow along, breathless and dazed, letting him move you as he wishes, too deliriously starry eyed for him to care about anything else other than what Joel is gearing up to do to you next.

He accidentally slides out with the movement of your body, and immediately he’s grasping at your hips, practically clawing his way back to you as he pulls you tight to his body again. His throbbing, dripping cock slaps periodically against your ass as he shoves you forward, pushing your body towards the house.

“Here,” he grits out, suddenly crowding your body from behind to press you against the sliding glass door. “That better?”

“I- yes,” you say, eyes wide from the way you’d been roughly handled by him the last few moments. Your cunt aches almost painfully, having been getting so close to your climax only to have it ripped away suddenly when Joel decided to move you.

“Good,” he snips quietly. “Couldn’t stand to keep this cock out of you much longer’n this.”

With his words he brings his lips to the back of your neck again, just his heavy breathing fanning across the skin there, making you wild as he repositions himself and nudges your legs apart with his knee. You feel the length of him tease between your legs, sliding up to your entrance again. He groans loudly, letting you know how badly he wants you, so you try to pop your hips up at just the right angle you know he’s looking for.

He slides in effortlessly and with a renewed vigor, hips snapping into you, pressing you further into the sliding glass door with neither of you seeming to be worried about the way it’s suddenly shaking on the frame. It’s completely lewd, the way you imagine the two of you - your entire body against glass, tits being pressed out the top of your dress and bouncing, palms spread against the smooth surface, nails clawing and unable to grasp at anything.

Your body is shaking in his hold now, Joel’s cock hitting inside of you in all the right places. You can feel yourself tensing, almost like every cell is going taut, your core pooling heat deep inside of you with molten pleasure from Joel hitting the spongy bit inside of you.

“Fuck, love it when you sound like that f’me, doll,” Joel punches out as he hears your moans becoming louder and more desperate the longer he continues to thrust against your g-spot. You can’t respond, only continue your lustful noises with a renewed vigor as you try to bounce your hips back into his thrusts, getting him deeper than what’s even possible, the length of him already burying up to the hilt each time he drives himself into you.

“Know you wanna come for me, baby,” he says right in your ear, voice hoarse with need, and you whimper in response as his hand snakes around your hips and in between your legs, circling a gentle pressure on your clit.

You feel your hold on reality completely break, your eyes squeezing shut as you melt into the way your entire body is tingling with pleasure now, waves of it turning into spasms as you go practically limp with shaky knees. Joel’s hands hold you in place, his warm strength keeping you upright as you push down onto his cock, riding out your climax and screaming for him.

When your movements start to slow and your body relaxes, Joel thrusts into you even harder, loving the way you’re so compliant and soft after climaxing, letting him move in you however he needs as you ride out the sensitive aftershocks with a few quiet yelps.

“This little pussy is all mine, y’know that, right?” Joel reminds you through clenched teeth, giving your ass a firm slap. You nod vigorously, eyes still half lidded and mind scrambled from the way he’d shattered you mere moments ago.

“Y-yes, Joel,” you say when he slaps your ass again, demanding an answer. Your breathy answer is enough to get him to his own climax, and he surprises you by pulling out suddenly, leaving your body lurching back into nothing, missing the fullness of him already. Before you can protest, say anything, Joel’s hands grip your shoulders and spin you around and push down, forcing you onto your knees in one fluid, swift motion. You watch, wide eyed, as he fists his throbbing cock, shiny and coated in your own slick arousal as he spreads it along his shaft in jerking motions.

“Be a good girl and open up,” he commands, and you submit to the words immediately, mouth hanging open, even sticking your tongue out for good measure. Joel smirks at that before giving himself another swift tug, and you watch in renewed wonder as he begins to spill himself all over your face, ropes of cum hitting your skin. You taste him on your tongue immediately, savoring it. Your eyes are glued up on Joel’s face, watching his glazed gaze taking in the scene below him as he groans in pleasure, trying not to tilt his head back and get lost in the moment so he doesn’t miss a beat of your beautiful surrender to him.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he watches the last bits of his release hit your tongue. “Don’t you dare swallow that, yet, doll,” he adds on quickly, eyes fluttering for a moment before he tucks himself back into his slacks. He continues to tower over you for a prolonged few seconds, looking down in satisfaction at the image of your glowing, angelic face coated in something so sinful, the milky substance starting to drip down your face, your tongue trembling slightly with the need to swallow.

“Hold still,” he says needlessly since as the words come out of his mouth he grabs your chin, tilting your head upwards and gathering spit, letting a long, tortuously slow drip of it fall into your open mouth. It lands on your tongue, combining with his cum and Joel smirks again, releasing your chin.

“Swallow, my little doll,” he says, voice starting to go soft, an indication that he’s feeling satisfied and finished with his enjoyment of you. You close your mouth, smile, and swallow obviously for him, licking your lips for good measure.

Joel holds out a hand, helping you stand, your legs buckling slightly as you try to get your bearings. He carefully smooths your disheveled dress, flattening the bottom half and tugging the neckline back into place before fixing the straps to sit perfectly square on your shoulders, eyes roaming over quickly to examine his work with pride. His hands then move to your hair, brushing his fingers gently to put it back in its place, leaving every part of you like none of this had just happened besides your face, still dripping with his spill. Your smile widens, seeing him watch a particularly large spot of it sliding down your cheek. You see his composure fail for a moment before he strokes your cheek gently, avoiding any of the mess there, giving you soft, affectionate eyes.

“Good girl,” he says quietly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Pizza’s probably ready,” he adds on, the casual tone taking you aback for only a moment before you blink yourself back to reality and nod dutifully.

“Of course,” you say, a genuine smile plastered on your face as you look at your handsome husband, admiring the way he’s looking at you with stars dancing across his eyes, the deepest love for you tucked away in his deep brown irises.

“After you get that, go clean yourself up, doll,” he says, and you nod again, the smile not leaving your face. You see out of the corner of your eye Joel settle onto one of the chairs at your outdoor table, leaning back casually as if he hadn’t just had you bent over that exact table, fucking you for the entire neighborhood to possibly see and hear.

You gather everything you need, serving utensils, plates, and two cold beers before bringing it to the table along with the pizza and a freshly tossed salad you’d made to accompany it. Each time you drop something off, the smirk on Joel’s face grows, watching the way you work with the evidence of his obsession with you still lingering on your flushed cheeks.

Once the table is set and your face cleaned off, you join Joel outside to enjoy the beautiful spring evening, and see he’s already served you two generous slices of the margherita pizza.

He reaches a hand onto the table, taking yours delicately into his palm, dwarfing it with the size of his thick fingers as he absentmindedly runs his thumb along your knuckles, stopping to play with the large, gorgeous diamond on your ring finger. Another reminder to him that he has you all to himself, his pretty little wife.

“Thanks for dinner, baby” he says, eyes locked on yours as he uses a free hand to pick up the pizza and take a large bite, letting out a little noise in satisfaction at the flavor.

“Anytime.” You smile, genuine and tranquil, a fresh appreciation and love for the life you’ve found yourself so grateful to be living.

tysm to @jupiter-soups @huffle-punk @rensraptor for so much help with ideas and writing this fic! love u guys x

#PLS DON'T LET THIS FLOP i'm very proud of it #fic: pretty little wife #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #x reader #pedro pascal character x reader

3K notes · View notes

winterzsurprise · 2 months ago

Text

Change My Mind [2]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.6k

I posted this a day later than the one on ao3 because I forgor :''DD

Seeing the support and comments from both website got me off my ass to fix the storyline, even made a lot of changes on the chapters I've had preserved.

this chapter got rewritten a LOT, and was longer than it initially was so I hope y'all don't mind long chapters.

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

__________

There's been times where your heart has truly fluttered for a man throughout your lifetime. Too many times has it been because some of your bosses (read: Jimin) flirted with you but you have never felt anything remotely giddy for anyone else outside the group.

Except for the man now sitting in front of you, flashing you a dimpled smile after handing out his card with an ease you only see in your friends and male leads in dramas. An action more attractive than any kabaedon or flexed muscles.

He's attractive but you don't like like him.

Yoo Guwon came to you as a bashful giant, rubbing the back of his head whenever he’s flustered and a constant sheepish smile featuring his deep set of dimples indented on both cheeks. He’s charming and articulate with his words just like a lawyer would be. Everything about him reminds you of another gentle and clumsy giant probably hunched over his music equipment back in the BigHit building.

It’s only been a few hours but you surprisingly covered most of the basic grounds of first meeting conversations during the short time you drove around Han River in a two seated bicycle. From the meager questions of ‘what dreams do you have?’ to the more complex and deeper ‘If the world falls into ruin, will you burn my body when I die?’.

Too graphic for a first date but you wanted to test the waters and you concluded that he’s too perfect.

He knows the right words to say, the proper way to act and it makes you suspicious. Your mother has never recommended you to a good guy before, having a track record of ten shitty suitors who all ran their mouths about their mediocre achievements, and dared to ask you about your purity before ranting about how dirty you are for not saving yourself for your husband the moment they find out you're not a virgin anymore. Then all of a sudden, she led you to good boy Guwon.

And it makes your skin crawl.

What did that woman eat? Has your father fed her something bad this time? What is she planning? It’s scary how she has finally advocated for an actual nice guy.

After taking you to a museum you're sure Namjoon has visited once, he drove you both to the Han River to rent a double seated bike to drive around with before ending the night with a nice reservation somewhere in the Seocho district.

The place is as sophisticated as fine dining areas usually are. With an intimate lighting, marbled tabletops matched with soft cushioned seats and high ceilings to make space for modern glass chandeliers, the restaurant was no doubt expensive, the type you have to reserve a spot two months prior to be able to experience its greatness. The point was driven home when you saw the amount of zeros it cost for one can of soda.

You asked him how he managed to get a table and he went down the rabbit hole of the many advantages he got from successful cases, ranging from a free monthly subscription to fruit baskets to a free week-long voucher to a five star hotel somewhere in Busan.

Going back to the butterflies, while not as wild as it got when Hoseok possessively wrapped an arm thrown around your waist to pretend as your boyfriend to ward off a persistent suitor, they're there, albeit subtle.

Very subtle.

Maybe it's in the way he didn't think twice to hand out his card towards the waiter in the most suave way with the thick golden watch decorating his wrist, sleeves neatly folded up to reveal the thick cords of veins on his forearms with his hair strewn messily and a dimpled smile that made you react like that.

You ignore the voice comparing his uncannily similar traits to someone else.

Meeting Guwon wasn't like how the movies illustrated love at first sights. They talked of fireworks exploding in the background and hearing the sweet chimes of wedding bells upon eye contact but for him, it's just that. A meeting far more formal than you'd like. He has a lot of qualities that check your list of husband material traits yet instead of butterflies, you could only feel an echoing hollowness in your chest as you listen to him list out his future plans.

It felt like surrendering to the fate the divinities had weaved out for you which is being an untethered forced to love someone you don't even feel any spark with.

He's a nice man who’s offering a comfortable future and you're just a woman who wishes to live a lavish life at home while your husband wastes his years away in the office. You might be a hopeless romantic who wished for soulmates and the like but you're not blind to the opportunity Guwon offers you.

You haven't texted the gc anything during the date other than the selfie you took before you left for the date but there's been constant vibrations in your purse and it's no doubt the guys asking for updates but for a moment you wanted to try to focus on the man before you.

Not that it wasn't hard to try with Guwon anyways.

Whenever the man spoke of his achievements and hobbies with a humble approach, he never forgot to ask you for your opinion or input on the topic. You also noted how he has never cut you off and let you speak whenever you wanted, listening with an eagerness only your friends usually show. He asked relevant questions with a genuine curiosity, eager to know more about you.

So when he asked if you wanted to go on a second date that night, it came to no surprise for anyone when you accepted it albeit the heaviness in your heart.

It was funny how eagerly you searched for a husband you could bring to your parents' doorsteps but the moment someone with all the qualities you seeked came, it felt disappointing. Boring even.

But you can learn, this man is your ticket to living without working anymore.

It came to no one's surprise that your mother was overjoyed, she wasted no time calling you before you could even change to squeeze the memory of today out of you.

The shrill scream of victory she let out that night was unforgettable because finally, a suitor you actually liked. Your dad even congratulated her off-screen for her matchmaking achievements before telling you to bring Guwon home to meet them.

Logically, you’re aware you've won the love roulette—Guwon has it all, he checked every box on your list, yet it felt like defeat and it tasted foul, bitter on your tongue.

You couldn't tell them that it was you deciding to settle, that would break her heart.

Tapping the end call button felt like the dam breaking and all the water held onto for so long flowed out. You fall lifelessly on your bed with a heavy sigh. Taking a couple evening breaths, you finally opened the group chat with an overwhelming number of unread messages.

[Today, 08:49]

[08:49] Mimi: I'd run my bank dry to take you on dates if you'd dress so pretty like that, noona~

[08:49]Tete: We're really seeing this for free when the poor guy has to pay for it. #livingapriviledgedlife😁👍

[08:49] Hobi: Wow noona🤯

[08:50] Yoongs: 👍

[08:55] Tete: Wait, I don't think those shoes fit you, go back home and change it😁

[08:56] Jinnie: Hey, you're showing too much skin on the first date! Go back and change!

[08:57] Joonie: Ignore these haters noona, I hope you enjoy your day😊

[Today, 21:48]

[21:48] Jinnie: are you home yet? You haven't seen our messages in HOURS.

[21:48] Tete: NOONA DID YOU GET MURDERED?!😱

[21:50] Joonie: Let's be rational guys, don't jump to conclusions. The date might just be going great if she's busy enough to not check her phone😊.

[21:51] Mimi: doing great? don't scare me like that hyung😵‍💫

[21:51] Tete: BUT WHAT IF SHE GOT KIDNAPPED HYUNG????

[21:51] Hobi: please reply soon, we're worried🥲

Jungkook's absence from the conversation didn't come to you as a shock, the kid doesn't even reply to you for a week despite being one of the people who raised him. Nonetheless, you sat up from your bed to record a quick video of you giving them a thumbs up and turning the camera to show your room.

The latter was an assurance to Taehyung that no, you also didn't get kidnapped into someone else's house to be someone's housekeeper, and no, it wasn't a clone either.

The moment your message gets sent, the replies blow up your phone almost instantaneously.

[22:28] Mimi: noona you're alive!

[22:28] Joonie: How did the date go?😊

[22:28] Jinnie: how nice of you to remember to update us PEASANTS.

[22:28] Mimi: How was Guwon?

[22:29] Tete: I KNEW WE SHOULD'VE WENT WITH YOU ANYWAYS

[22:29] You: Shockingly, he's a pretty nice guy. Not too bad on the eyes, and pretty smart. I think you'd get along well with him, joon. He's a lawyer so he covered most of the expenses today😁

[22:29] You: Overall, it was great, we're gonna go on a second one. He's pretty cool.

Instantly, messages from the members, even Jungkook’s to your surprise, flooded your screen.

[22:30] Tete: Noona you've been cursed! We need to bring you to the nearest shaman to break it!!

[22:30] Mimi: don't joke with us noona

[22:30] Mimi: I just got goosebumps!

[22:30] Joonie: Congratulations are in order then? Will we be expecting him around you soon?

[22:31] Yoongs: I need to meet him, need to know if he's good enough

[22:31] Yoongs: men are trash, I need to see him for myself before I decide

[22:32] Yoongs: and you know what they say about lawyers, they LIE. I wouldn't trust him

[22:32] Jinnie: WE need to meet the man who managed to steal your heart! I want to talk to him😊

[22:32] Mimi: don't use that emoji again, hyung

[22:32] Hobi: SCARY JWANN😱

[22:32] Joonie: Let’s not threaten anyone please.

[22:32] Joonie: But I'm really happy for you 😁.

[22:33] Tete: Those periods really scares me hyung…

[22:33] Tete: Somehow, I don't think you mean it…

[22:33] Joonie: What makes you think that, tae?😁.

[22:33] Tete: 😰

[22:34] Ggukie: a few drinks will fix you up, noona😁

[22:34] Mimi: you'll invite me this time right?

[22:34] You: I don't know, you already used your mischief hours this week, I doubt Sejin would be so kind next time.

[22:34] Hobi: if he does that right now during practice, I also wouldn't be so kind to him😊

[22:34] Mimi: you are scaring me hyung…

[22:34] Hobi: good😊

[22:34] Tete: Hyung, are you just gonna ignore Jungkook leaving?!?!!?

The messages continued for a good five minutes, mostly consisting of holding Jimin back from leaving practice and him sending pictures of the infamous Hoseok death glare from across the room before your doorbell chime rang, making you shoot up straight.

A beat. Then it continues in three quick successions, the knocks almost in sing-song and sounded like two hands were used to produce the tune, giving you an inkling on who might be visiting you at this late hours of night.

Padding out of your room, the front door suddenly swings open without warning and you yelp. By the doorsteps stands the intruder, a tall man in a black coat with his face hidden by a mask and a cap. Your body would've frozen a thousand times over if you didn't know this stranger who's hugging two paper bags, one overflowing with snacks and the other a breeze away from tearing apart from the weight and water drenching the material of the bag.

"Hi noona!"

After today, seeing Jungkook felt like a cure, his presence alone repelling the heaviness in your shoulders and you ushered him inside and he wandered into your home with ease, approaching the coffee table to place down the shopping bags.

Suddenly you remembered what he had scheduled prior.

"You're putting me on Hoba’s punishment rotation, what are you doing here?"

He giggled. “We both know he won't, hyung loves you more than me.”

He falls on your couch with the ease of someone who has visited your space numerous times throughout the years, propping up his feet on the back support and folding his arms underneath his head before staring up at you, expectantly.

"Anyways, I brought us food and drinks, don't I deserve a little praise?"

Sometimes it's easy to forget how young Jungkook really is, forced to grow and act mature to blend in with his surroundings, you've always seen him stand with pride alongside his hyungs. Seeing him awaiting for your praise so eagerly like a pup fills your heart with awe.

"Yeah yeah, good job. Now move over, let me sit down."

You tapped his arm, motioning him to move over so you could sit next to him, something he obeyed without resistance, busying himself in removing the contents from the soiled paper bag instead.

“Couldn't you have put some effort into it? At least sound grateful.” He pouts. Placing down the cluster of beer cans, you turned to him and pinched his cheeks.

“Oh my dearest darling, thank you for saving this noona of yours. Such an amazing baby I have here.”

Despite being the one who asked for it, Jungkook only rolled his eyes with a barely held back grin as he slapped your hands away, making you laugh, and turned to the bag holding the snacks he bought. You didn't miss the redness dusting his cheeks or the cheeky grin that tugged his lips wide as he spilled the contents of the last bag onto the table.

There's a significant amount of sweets and snacks laid before you, as well as stacks of canned beers and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

"Wouldn't this ruin your diet?"

He waved you off with a huff. "I work out enough to eat all of these in one sitting."

Instantly, your mind brings you back to white walls and gray furniture, faced with manager Sejin who warned you about interfering with the idols' diet at the start of your career. If it wasn't for Bang PD waving off their concerns, saying they needed to be rewarded for their hard work anyways, you would've been long booted out of the company.

It's a matter long settled yet it remains to weigh heavily in your head.

Seeing the hesitation in your eyes, Jungkook continues.

"I can show you proof of my efforts,"

He then reached down to the fabric of his shirt tucked into his jeans and tugged it up, flashing you the tightly corded muscles in forming on his abdomen and the thin happy trail you often see when patting his sweat down during concerts and you hastily pulled it back down with a yelp, cheeks growing hot while he laughed.

As he throws his head back in his mirth, you couldn't help but notice the way adulthood has taken away the fullness of his cheeks and has sharpened his features. A far cry from the sensitive young boy who cried his eyes out every time his hyungs got hurt.

There was no denying that Jungkook had grown without you noticing and it makes your chest swell with pride knowing he's been raised well by the others, in extension, although not so much, you as well.

"Don't worry so much about me, noona. I can handle the consequences now, you leave the reprimanding to me."

Under the warm overhead light of your living room, even with the exaggerated puff of his chest and his nose turnt up high, Jungkook's shoulder had never looked sturdier, reliable, in your eyes. You smiled, reaching to pinch both his cheeks making him grin wider than he already was.

"Look at you acting so cool, when did you grow so much?"

He rolled his eyes, pulling your hands away from his cheeks and entangling it with his. “I've always been cool, you just don't pay attention to me, noona.”

Before you could reply, he's already moved to reach for the beverages on the coffee table, popping two of them open and handing you one can, immediately you take a swig.

The beer fizzled in your tongue and left a trail of burns down your throat. The sensation is refreshing nonetheless and you place it down next to him before picking up the large bags of chips and standing up.

"I'll go put these in a bowl, go put something on the tv."

"Can I play anime?"

You waved at him dismissively, unable to find it in yourself to say no to him as you head towards your kitchen to transfer the junk into a bowl when a shrill tune from your bedroom cuts through the air, someone was calling you. You look over to Jungkook, scrolling through his phone, no doubt looking for a movie online.

"Gguk, can you pick up the call for me? My hands are busy right now."

There's a shuffle of feet behind you and in a moment, your phone quietens down. Finished with filling one bowl, you turn to find Jungkook leaving your room with a deep look and your phone in hand. His jaw set tight as he stood there with furrowed brows, eyes lit with irritation.

Looking at his reaction, you asked about your mysterious caller.

"Who was it?"

When he turned to you, the tick in his jaw dispersed. All of a sudden, he's smiling at you with mischief twinkling in his eyes, the change giving you a whiplash.

"It was the others, didn’t answer their calls cause I want you for myself tonight, noona."

(Later on, you'd find yourself staring at the many unread messages and two missed calls from Guwon, wondering in your drunken state if you've muted your phone at some point earlier.)

Hearing it from his lips now, your body locks, heart stuttering in your chest and butterflies exploding in your stomach, spreading a tingly feeling throughout your body and you laugh.

"Where did you hear that line from, brat? You just activated my fight or flight!"

"Taehyung says that and gets thanked but when I do it, I'm punished?" He pouts, stomping as he approaches the island counters and crossing his arms on the marble surface.

It reminded you of a bunny you saw from a video on the internet, angrily thumping their feet at their owner when it was being purposely ignored.

“In his defense, he does it while he’s acting like my crazy ‘exes’ and saves me from dates.”

“That’s just favoritism! I saved you once from a date!”

You threw him a deadpan stare. "Throwing me over your shoulders and kidnapping me isn’t the same as Tae and Jimin acting crazy enough to make the other guy uncomfortable to save me.”

Hoseok had your favorite troublemakers kneeled on the floor with both their hands up and facing the wall at the time, punishing them for being an hour late to their practice. He had called you in, asking if they had been accompanying you during —they weren’t.

Long story short, you didn't risk sharing Hoseok’s wrath with the two and took Jungkook instead, a decision you quickly regretted later on in the night when instead of approaching to act like one of your exes when you gave him a signal, he hoisted you up onto his shoulder and ran away while your date only watched in terror.

“Now that’s blatant favoritism! I didn’t kidnap you, we ran away together into the sunset! It was romantic!"

"Not for the other guy, no! He was shitting bricks when he called my mom. She got me squatting the entire afternoon when we met again."

Mentioning it alone made phantom pains throb in your knees and thighs, you shivered. If torture wasn't a socially unacceptable and punishable offense in the modern world, you were sure your mother would have stripped you down to your underwear and made you squat under the sun in front of your family house instead.

The absolute fury she unleashed on you that day is enough proof that she would've done it with no hesitation if it was lawfully appropriate.

"That's too much for a failed date."

"No reason to dwell on it. Main point is, don't take notes from dramas anymore."

With a last roll of his eye, Jungkook then picked up the bowls and brought them to the coffee table following you who had returned to your seat ahead of him. Once the two of you are situated back on the couch, he navigates through the streaming app for an interesting title before eventually settling on the romance anime he claimed to have heard amazing reviews about.

Without hesitation, Jungkook navigates himself into a familiar between your legs and leaned back on your chest, head finding his rightful space under your chin with a precision gained from doing so for years.

It goes without saying that Bangtan is affectionate. With the pressure they had during their rise to fame, it wasn't shocking that they comfortably seeked each other's comfort and spared no skinship. As one of the only staff within constant exposure that's close to their age, you too became one of their pillars of serenity.

It was the reason you had crushes on everyone at least twice during your time as their make-up artist, not that any of the boys knew nor does it matter.

Stability and work takes precedence over something as shaky as love.

There's only so much comfort another man can offer, your mother says from years before.

Jungkook more than anyone else in the group.

As a boy who sacrificed his childhood and time with his parents to pursue his dream, you felt more inclined to watch over him than the others who were adults by the time you joined. You were there for his first heartbreak, his first drink, his high school graduation; the point is, you were there and you held him every time he struggled with problems—mostly girl problems—he's too shy to seek his hyungs for.

But now with his growth spurt, cuddling up to you like he used to when he was younger with his gangly legs awkwardly hanging from the couch, carelessly leaning his head in between the mounds of your breast while his large hand mindlessly drew circles on your knee, you found yourself wondering about the appropriateness of it all.

A man and a woman alone in a room at night in close proximity, body leaning against each other. Society would argue they wouldn’t end the night as friends anymore after the encounter.

You paused mid-drink and grimaced.

It must be the beer talking.

"Noona."

"Yeah?"

"Wrap your arms around me, it's cold."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not though? I always keep my house warm."

He let out an exasperated groan before reaching behind to grab your arm and roughly slinging it on his shoulders.

As time continued its cycle and episodes started to fly across the screen, the pile of opened beer cans on the table expanded. You really tried to focus on the movie but the feeling of his fingers tracing stars on your bare thigh left you oddly bothered. Jungkook has shifted his position higher at some point during the movie, his body now turned sideways, successfully squeezing himself into the small space between you and the back of the couch, legs entangling itself with yours while an arm is thrown across your body.

This position puts his nose closer to your ears and it makes you shiver. The feel of his hot breath fanning across your skin has given you more goosebumps in under an hour more than you've had throughout your life.

Even drunk, you could feel the building tension thickening around you and the will to tell him to off ebbs away with every caress of his fingers.

Gone were the innocent traces of stars and hearts on your thigh, his hand now grabbed onto your waist almost possessively, thumb rolling slow circles on your bare stomach; the motion conjuring the most unholiest of thoughts known to mankind.

When the credits started rolling, you knew you had to draw the line before you lost yourself to intoxicated thoughts and end the night with regrets.

"Time for you to go home now, your hyungs must be looking for you."

You tried prying his hand from your waist so you could reach for your phone on the table only for him to tighten around you, stopping you from moving away. He groaned, head nuzzling closer into your neck and his lips grazed your skin.

Instantly, electric jolts shoot through your body.

"Jungkook, I need to get my phone and tell someone to fetch you from here."

"Can't I just stay the night? I'm too comfortable right now…"

The gruff in his voice and the sensation of his lips moving on your skin has your stomach fluttering and you're too drunk to address the growing heat in your abdomen but thanked the sense of professionalism seeping through the fogs of your intoxicated mind.

Managing to pry him off, you reached for your phone and opened up SMS to tell Jin to pick their youngest up.

[01:21] You: Jwannn

[01:21] You: can you pick up your kid from my house? He's drunk and stinkyyy

[01:23] Jinnie: your knight in shining armor is on the way!

“Just let me stay the nighttt,” he whined into your skin.

"I don't have any more spare beds other than this couch for you to sleep in, Gguk. I turned the other room into a closet, remember?"

"I can just sleep with you on the bed, we used to do that, didn't we?"

He attempted to reach around you again but you pushed his limbs away once more before slapping his arm.

You tried not noticing how thicker and harder the muscles felt, you really did.

"But it's different now, Gguk. Come on, go wash up and drink water, I've already told someo—"

The moment you rose to stand, his arms shot around your waist in record speed and pulled you flush to his front, nuzzling his nose on the back of your neck before he sighed. When the first hot exhale hits your skin, you flinch away but the limbs wounded tightly around your middle restrict you from moving.

You try to ignore the heat simmering under your skin but it was hard when you felt the press of his plush lips on your nape as he leans closer into your skin.

“You always smell so nice, noona.” He whispered breathily, the sensation of his moving mouth sending shivers down your spine and you shivered.

“I-I can give you my lotion brand later, let me go so I can get it.”

“But I'm comfortable here…”

Mustering every strength left in your body, you manage to pull an arm out of the death grip he had on your body and slapped his hand. Jungkook easily ignores it.

“Come on Gguk, let me out now. This isn't appropriate.”

"How is it different now?"

The alcohol intoxicating your system loosened your grip on your inhibitions and your lips regrettably moved faster than your brain.

"You're a man now, Gguk. Honestly, we shouldn't be even doing this right now. It's inappropriate."

You try to stand once more, managing to pry him from your waist and standing up before his arms hooked around you once more and tugging you back down, this time on his lap as he burrows his head onto your back.

"Gguk?"

"Yo-you see me as a man, noona?"

As a child your mother has taught you how words could heavily influence and drastically change a situation, now as an adult, you've mastered the art of speech. But as you sit still on his thighs, body warm and inhibitions blurred by the alcohol, your loose lips have led you back to the very thing you try to avoid.

"It's hard not to think so when you've grown up this much."

In a flash, Jungkook is now hovering over your face as he places you back down on the couch, his nose a hair's width from touching yours and his hands planted on each side of your head.

There's a feral hunger swimming in his eyes as it stared into yours, desperate and intense before it fell to the plush of your parted lips and his gaze darkens. All of a sudden, you're a prey pinned down by an apex predator who's ready to devour you at any given moment.

Fire alarms blared in your mind and you regained control over your senses.

“Jungkook.”

"Noona."

You tried wriggling out of his grasp but it was no use, he's stronger. "Get off of me, kid."

“How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a kid anymore?”

“I'm not hearing anything out when you're acting like this, Gguk.”

He scoffed. “I just want to sleep here, in the same bed, nothing else is gonna happen. Why is it such a bad thing?”

“It's different now, Gguk. Come on, let me go.”

“How is it so different? You and Jimin hyung cuddle sometimes, I've seen you fall asleep next to Hobi hyung once, why is it different with me?”

“It's different because we're both drunk and things could happen.”

“I wouldn't mind it.” Jungkook responds with a cheeky smile. His grip on one of your wrist loosened enough that you were able to hit his arm and he giggled in response.

“But I do. It wouldn't be fair.”

Even something as small as letting one member stay at your home without the others can be the loudest announcement for the rest of the group. All those times you've rejected your friends, with reasons like ‘I don’t want to risk everything’, and ‘I don't want to hurt the others’, to turn back around to accept their youngest would be hypocritical of you.

He scoffs. "You tell us about all your stupid dates, don't you think it's more unfair for us?”

A familiar weight grows in your chest. Guilt tasted like rust on your tongue and dug into your heart with a ribbed knife. Your own late night thoughts manifesting before you and you pushed him away.

After everything, you were all friends, you trusted them more than you do with your other circle. There's not a secret left undiscussed between the eight of you so it was no surprise that you had indulged them with the details of your quest for a husband. Nobody ever raised any complaints with you sharing your days so you never thought twice about it.

It's been five years since Jin had confessed, three for Taehyung. Their eldest had confessed for the sake of him finally being able to move on after your rejection and with how he acted after, you had believed him. It was different for Taehyung who had continued to act like normal after his confession, neither dejected nor did he show signs of letting go but he did introduce a date to your group once, a year later, so you had assumed the same.

Were you wrong after all?

“Jungkook, we're drunk. Let’s talk about this tom—”

“I've never been more sober in my life than I am right now, noona.”

You didn't respond, couldn't reply.

What were you supposed to even say?

Jungkook usually obeyed you and his hyungs without hesitation, happily offering his aid whenever he could. He's the type of friend who's run himself dry just to fetch you a cup of water from the other side of the world but now as he hovers over you, he became a whole new person.

Greed has always been an irritating parasite that eats away at a person's morals but somehow in your drunken mind, you thought it looked so good on him. It fits him and his generous character the way one light clothing molds well with the dark fabrics. His familiar scent of vanilla and coconut clouded your senses, calming your panicking mind into a hush, leaving nothing but the thoughts of how his lips tasted and wondering if he’s as sweet as he smelled.

He let out a shaky exhale from through his mouth as he watched your parted lips with a rapt attention as if hypnotized by the way they subtly trembled with every breath that passed through.

In the pregnant silence of your room, his voice cuts through like a knife.

“Can I kiss you?”

He whispers against your lips, voice breaking in the middle from the weight of his request, honeyed and pleading, as if your kiss holds the answer to the problems of the world and holds the power to break him.

His hand travels up to cup your cheek oh so carefully like you're fragile china yet you feel yourself shatter under his touch.

You are losing grasp on your sober thoughts as lust starts to cloud your already compromised judgment, his request far too tempting to ignore.

Maybe a kiss wouldn’t hurt.

But wouldn’t it be unfair for the others who have expressed their romantic intentions to you since years ago?

It was a last ditch effort to reason with your mind and your body froze from the cold wave of realization. In the short time after his question, you recall the confessions you turned down to not ruin the relationship Bangtan has established for themselves and the bitter taste it left on your tongue.

“Jungkook… we can’t.”

Watching his expression contort into confused hurt almost made you want to take your words back, but your mind takes you to memories of apologetic and understanding smiles you’ve received throughout the years and the aches from those moments resurfaces, squeezing your heart in a tight grip.

“I-I’m sorry I can’t control my feelings, I just wanted to tell you about it… Thought that maybe after this, I could move on.” An apologetic voice whispers, the memory of premature confessions in the middle of a cleanup resurfacing.

“I can’t—I can’t do it to them, it’d be unfair.”

You pushed him back and he relented, letting himself be sat back onto the other side of the couch defeatedly. Despite it, his tight grip on your waist remained, pulling you flush to him and burying his face in your chest as if trying to hear the lie in your words through the beatings of your heart.

“I’m also seeing Guwon now.”

“Then don’t let me meet him. I-I don’t know if I can take it.”

It was heart wrenching and at the same time, left an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Jungkook never had to beg since you first met him, everything he could ever want was given to him by you and his hyungs without hesitation. Hearing him plead for you to never bring Guwon around if fate had actually paired you both, it was a different kind of pain.

It felt like thorns growing and rooting its stems of pointy ends into the deepest parts of your heart. You hated this, but you don’t want to hurt any of your boys by accepting one.

Relief comes in the form of Taehyung when he busted into your apartment while Jungkook has excused himself to your bathroom to sober up just a moment before. Seokjin trails behind him, calmer than the younger man who declared his arrival with a deep voice and a loud bang of the door. You immediately thought of the elderly couple and the new family of three living next to you and internally facepalmed.

“Noona! We’ve come to take Jungkook away!”

Kim Seokjin’s face has never been more handsome when he closed the door behind him, and you verbalized your thought, leading his ears to glow red in embarrassment.

“Am I only handsome to you when I’m closing the doors?! This face that people fawn over all over the world?!”

“It’s your true calling, door guy.”

“Oh shut it hyung, you’re making my head hurt.” Jungkook mutters as he reentered the living room, looking far better than when he left.

The tension was palpable, the effect of a rejected profession still raw and thick in the small joined space of the living room and kitchen and you caught Jin's eyes as the two youngest bickered, there’s a knowing look passed between you, an unsaid ‘let’s talk later’ hanging in the air.

“Hey, just because you got to escape Hoba’s practice without scratch doesn't mean you're hot shit, show me some respect!”

Seokjin scolds, accompanied by a playful kick to their youngest’s butt. Immediately the stuffy air dissipates and Jungkook responds in kind; by kicking him in the shin, hard enough to launch Seokjin into another lengthy nag.

It was a quick retrieval after his rant. Jungkook lets himself be towed out of your apartment by an oddly enthusiastic Taehyung who's going on about a new game trailer he saw online while Jin has offered to be left behind to clean up the mess. It was no doubt obvious, the familiar awkwardness and tenseness brought by a rejected confession lingered in the air when they arrived, it only took him one look at you and he already knew.

The moment the door slams shut behind the boys, he immediately began:

“Did he admit it?”

His voice was soft yet it rang loudly in the pindrop silence of your living room. The sigh he let out echoed more when you nodded.

“I told him to not do it, you know? But you know how stubborn he gets.”

You didn’t reply. You simply move, walking to the trash bin to put the empty beer cans in and Jin follows close with the bowls stacked on top of each other to place in the sink. It was a brief moment of reprieve. He let the moment from earlier simmer in your stomach, let the smoke from it fill your lungs and weigh your heart till you burst.

Out of the seven boys, you've always turned to either him or Yoongi as they're older than you, so it came to nobody's shock when you break and told him.

“It just never gets better, I always feel guilty even if I didn’t choose. I’m just lucky I didn’t have to suffer through seven of these, I don’t think I could take it and just quit.”

It was a thought you’ve entertained when Taehyung came to you with his heart in his hand, giving it to you carelessly despite knowing how you’ve handled the other confessions. He was all dopey smiles and flushed cheeks, it continued even when you’ve pushed his heart back to him with an apologetic look.

Seeing the happy creases in his eyes iron out despite the huge boxy smile continuing to play on his lips, the existing pressuring guilt reawakened. Taehyung’s heart that gleamed and glowed gold, vulnerable for you to take and use from where it settled in the middle of his offering palms. You could’ve taken advantage of it all as they were rising in fame, when they were facing discrimination from the other companies and had found comfort in you but you didn’t.

Even with the attraction you've felt for them, you were nothing but a makeup artist to the company. Another asset to deploy and replace if it got annoying to handle. You couldn't risk your career on uncertainties, this is your dream job.

You loved them all equally and held them in the same regards as the others, they’re your best friends, chosen soul companions even without the marks to solidify it.

They loved you and you loved them all but you wouldn't bet your life on an uncertain future.

“You should give us more credit, you know?”

He says from the kitchen sink, the sound of water slowing into a halt. Seokjin didn’t move for a while. When he did, it was to place down the plates, washing his hands before turning around to face you.

“We’re grown adults now, we can handle rejection so don’t feel too bad about it. You can choose and we’d even help you keep it a secret from everyone besides us eight.”

It was genuine. Even in the haze of your intoxication, those words felt like a cool balm for your aching heart. While Namjoon’s words were cited research, formal and factual and Yoongi’s were calming droughts to ease the discomfort of sadness brought by gloomy thoughts, Seokjin speaks from the heart, true and unbiased but says it with a gentleness and care.

Guilt sets like a boulder on your heart. Being able to feel, to experience such a privilege when all you've done is break his heart since your hunt for a husband, the weight in your chest multiplied and tears sprung from your eyes.

You wanted them but you couldn't risk your dream job, couldn't risk a friendship as precious as theirs for kisses and hugs that eventually has its ends.

You didn’t even notice it when he crossed the distance between you both and pulled you plush to his chest but you recognized the familiar sensation of plush lips pressing against your forehead.

If it lingered a few seconds past what's platonically allowed, you didn’t mention it.

Seokjin’s muted scent of freshly baked cakes brought silence to the rampaging waves of thoughts in your mind and if you pressed your nose flush to his chest to bury yourself in his fragrance, he didn’t say anything, bringing one hand behind your head protectively.

“I'm sorry to put you through this pain, Jinnie. I-I didn’t know.”

“I knew you didn’t know but I'll be fine... eventually.” He breathes out before leaning down to bury himself into the nest of your hair. "As long as you're happy, then I am too."

It was heavy, being loved and held so preciously even after you’ve turned him down, it felt cruel, sadistic even. But like the selfish woman you are, you accepted it. Soaked in his affections greedily.

“You know, he asked me to never show Guwon around you guys.”

He sighed. “I knew he would.”

“Do you want that as well?

Silence followed but you heard his answer loud and clear.

The second date happened after the first leg of the tour in Seoul.

Although planned suddenly, you appreciated the downtime after being lost in the haze of rushed outfit changes, reapplying makeup, and patting sweat from foreheads. If anything, you were thankful you could loosen up after earlier. The awkward tension didn’t go amiss, it only took Namjoon and Yoongi one look between you and Jungkook before taking charge on how the night progresses.

Yoongi didn't waste any time waving you over to ask for help for his makeup, even when he was already being prepped by one of your older colleagues, Ji hae. Thankfully, the woman lets you take over, saying she wanted a snack anyways.

The man didn't bother asking you what happened and settled comfortably in his chair but not before offering you the snack he bought earlier and was laying neglected on his lap. Yoongi asked about Guwon in a hushed voice, because while you were living in a reverse harem with most of his brothers, he was genuinely curious about your boyfriend-to-be.

Maybe it was the fact he has never admitted his affections for you that made it comfortable to discuss topics you could never talk about with the others with him, but you let your tongue a little loose.

And he listened.

Yoongi has always been a man of action not words, his love language has always been opening water bottles, blankets appearing from nowhere when you're passed out on their couch, and listening attentively. Despite what the world says about his nonchalance and silence, in your eyes, he's the sweetest guy on the roster—not that you'd tell Jimin that of course, he'd riot if he were to find out.

By the end of the concert, Guwon asks you on an impromptu date. A simple late night walk on a market nearby because there's apparently a food fair, and as usual, the expenses are on him. Hungry with a principle of never turning down free food, of course you accepted.

Though you had a long time deciding whether to go or not with Jungkook’s confession still fresh.

Minutes later, he's waiting for you by the exit. The scene of him leaning on his Mercedes, waiting for you to reach him at the bottom of the stairs looks like it was pulled out of a kdrama.

Oddly enough, they didn’t question your lack of updates in the group chat but Jimin reached out later on and you suspect he told everyone your whereabouts instead, hopefully minus the date part to spare the others (read: Jungkook) from heartbreak.

The fair looked like a mirage of a paradise in the night hidden away in a small gently-lit up alley. The path was lightened up with gentle lanterns hung above you, the warm colors setting a more intimate scene. It wasn’t as luxurious as dinner from yesterday or as calming as the bike ride around the Han river but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You’re ready to drop dead but you pushed through, you wanted this relationship to work. Because then, maybe the monsters—your mother and her wide selection of personalities as well as aunties, her friends, trying to refer you to their horrible sons—haunting you from under your bed will finally leave you alone.

It was cruel that you’re using someone else to erase the memory of being professed to by one of your best friends.

Guwon was happy enough to take charge the whole date, leading you from food stall after food stall, ordering whatever your eyes lingered at which is half of what the fair offers. He understands your lack of responses as it is, tired from work, and talked enough for the both of you. Which you are grateful for.

He talked about his job and what happened that day, willingly telling you about the story of how he and his co-workers clicked back in College, never to part till now in the field they wanted. He spoke of his dreams, how he envisioned his dream home by the province surrounded by nature and the cat named Nabi waiting for him at home.

There's nothing more blatant of a signal than the last part, whether you accept it or not depends on you.

Normally, you would've frowned at the thought, immediately thinking of running away but as the night deepens and stalls start to close, the idea grows more and more tempting despite the logical voice in your head disagreeing. Seeking a distraction and possibly leading on a kind man is cruel, both to him and you.

But at the end of the day, it’s just an escape from the reality you're stuck in, a temporary answer to a long time problem.

How harmful can it be?

People had hookups before, you’ve had hookups before your mother has started a hunt for your husband this year so what are you so reluctant for?

If this man is to be your husband, you should check your physical compatibility right?

You shivered. God, you sounded like one of those shitty guys you’ve dated before.

"Hey, the stalls just closed. Are you fine with me driving you back to your house?"

His voice cuts through your deep thoughts and you turn to him. Even in the dimly lit corner of the alley, Guwon looked attractive as ever with his dimpled smile and laid back attitude, his soft eyes gleaming under the lanterns, affections overflowing from his gaze and you. shuddered from its weight.

Staring at the man, you wondered if you'd ever fall in love with him as he seemed right now.

Soon enough, you both arrive in front of your apartment building. However, not every plan goes through as you thought it'd go and you find two familiar figures rushing down to meet you.

Taehyung didn't hesitate to run up to you with open arms and a wide smile. He didn't even care that you both almost toppled over if it wasn't for Guwon hand supporting you from the back.

"Wh-why are you two here? Shouldn't you guys be resting?"

Jimin shrugged but you caught the mischievous glint in his eyes as a small smile tugs his lips. "Hyung got so worried and wanted us to make sure you got home safely."

"Even a thumbs up would be great but you ignored every text and call! Jin hyung panicked and sent us out, if you didn't come home, he would've had a huge manhunt for you." Taehyung chimed in, pulling away but keeping his hands on your shoulders as he stared deep into your eyes, as if trying to hypnotize you into believing them.

Jimin snickered. “Yoongi hyung was an hour away from declaring you missing so the good dongsaengs we are, we decided to camp outside your apartment.”

You would've accepted his explanation, it was logically sound yet the dark glint of mischief and something else in his eyes as his gaze bounced from you to Guwon told you a different story.

They've always had to interrupt your dates when it becomes sour but this was the first time they've confronted a potential partner outside the intentions of ruining a date because you wanted it to suck.

This was them laying their claim over their own, a silent statement. A declaration you try not to think so much about, fearing you'd dig yourself deep and fall to your death.

“These must be one of your kids?” Guwon asks from behind, reminding you of his presence and you turn to him with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, Taehyung and Jimin. I practically raised them.”

Jimin scoffs and your head snapped to him, widening your eyes in warning to which he ignored. “Just because you’re a year older, doesn’t mean you could say you raised us you know?”

“See what I deal with everyday?”

Guwon laughs lightheartedly before patting your head to get your attention. “Since your kids are here to protect you, I should get going now.”

“Drive safely.”

“See you soon?”

“Definitely.”

Then he placed a haste kiss on the edge of your lips, catching you off guard and you froze. Guwon was already in his car by the time you realized what happened and turned to chastise him. You couldn't even knock on the passenger window when the arms coiled around your shoulders tightened and tugged you close.

Letting Guwon kiss you in front of one of the men who confessed to you once was the first mistake, second was looking up at Taehyung whose hug is starting to hurt.

Gone were the usual giddiness and child-like enthusiasm that would pour from his eyes. It was replaced by a colder glare, almost blank and emotionless as it narrowed behind you and jaw locked tight. There was something primal in the way his hand behind your head was pushing you closer to him as if he was hounding over his game from another predator.

Goosebumps prickled your skin awake.

If butterflies exploded in your stomach and ignited a molten heat in your abdomen at that very moment, it's a secret you’d take to your grave.

“Tae?”

“Noona, I think we should head inside. It's getting cold.” Jimin’s sweet voice sounded forced and you resisted the urge to look at him.

While their reaction to being challenged is obvious, you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out why he should feel like that when he’s been seeing other people since his confession. From your past dates where he attended as one of your escape plans, he’s never expressed such an intense show of displeasure so you thought his fleeting crush had passed.

Until tonight.

When Taehyung pulled away, the traces of his hostility were gone and you had to double take at how vastly different he's appearing now. He has his lower lip pushed out into a pout, eyes wide with mirth as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, his warm palms heating your cold-nipped skin.

“Aigoo, you're so cold noona. Let's go in and binge that foreign show you've been following.”

With hands now intertwined, he leads you inside the building where Jimin was already standing inside and was holding the door open for you both. You were being tugged into your own home yet you couldn’t help but feel tense as Taehyung and Jimin welcomed you back in with the same dark look you saw earlier.

370 notes · View notes

beomcoups · 4 months ago

Text

Food Wars pt. 1

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Mingyu are rival but friendly chefs competing for a spot to be an executive chef at a new location in Madrid. This position would change your life; no matter how attractive he is, you WILL get that spot.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chef!Mingyu x chef!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, suggestive (next part will be spicier, I promise), coworkers to lovers au, 18+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, kissing, mention of death (nothing graphic), suggestive grabs of the hips and ass 💀

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.2k

𝐀𝐍: Part 1 is heeeeeeere! This is apart of the world tour collab hosted by @svthub. Part 2 will be posted soon. There are alot of people here who helped me cultivate this fic and assure me that what I wrote didn't suck lol. Thank you @wooahaeproductions, @seokgyuu, @hobeemin and @hannieween for looking at bits of this for me. Also thank you to @highvern , @cheolism , @okiedokrie @bitchlessdino @gyupremacy for shooting ideas with me (ahem, cologne!) and finally @milfgyuu , I know you want to be tagged in anything related to your man :)

You knew it would come to this, and as good as you are at hiding your poker face, you are annoyed. A food competition, really? You almost burst out with laughter when Rich, the restaurant's owner of The Palm Cuisine, told you. The Palm Cuisine is one of the most popular restaurants in the U.S., with three locations in New York, Los Angeles, and Miami. He is opening a new restaurant in Madrid, Spain, and wants to take one of the sous chefs to make them the executive chef. You are the better chef, and everyone knows it, but in the spirit of “fairness,” you have to go against another person for the owner to make their decision. That other person is no other than Kim Mingyu, the golden boy of the restaurant who is almost as good as you in the kitchen. Almost.

It’s not like the position was directly promised to you, but deep down, you always assumed it would be yours. You have been there the longest, know the menu from top to bottom, and have even stayed extra nights you didn’t have to for the benefit of the restaurant and the team. You eat, breathe and shit this place. It feels like a slap to the face. “Put the knives down, girlie,” your coworker and good friend Shena nudges you.

You sigh, gently setting down the knives you used to cut your potatoes. “I’m fine,” you whisper, turning around and rolling your eyes. “I am totally fucking fine.” You close your eyes and take a small, deep breath, centering yourself before returning to reality. Disappointment would be an understatement if you had to describe how you feel. The Palm Cuisine is the first and only restaurant you have worked at as a chef, starting as a prep cook and working your way up to sous. You always imagined yourself making it to executive chef—overseeing the restaurant's menu, preparation, cooking, ordering, and operations. The place specializes in Spanish food, and you can confidently say you could plan a Spanish menu with your eyes closed. Tapas, gazpacho, paellas, you name it, you’ve done it. And yet, you must constantly prove to everyone (mainly the men) that you deserve to be here. It’s exhausting. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, wondering if you will snap and break a rolling pin or cry in the bathroom. Instead of giving them the satisfaction, you turn around with a beaming smile. “Well,” you quirk an eyebrow. “Let the food war begin!” “Oh, splendid!” Rich squeals. “I was worried you would be upset.” “Why would I be upset?” You cock your head. “I mean, it’s only fair, right?” He chuckles nervously, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Why don’t you and Mingyu come into my office, and we can discuss it further?” You nod as he beckons Mingyu over and follows him into his mid-size office. It smells of fresh linen, courtesy of a scented oil on his bookshelf. It looks like a typical place of work, complete with a desk, laptop, and hundreds of documents related to the restaurant. It’s cold in contrast to the warmth of the fires in the kitchen, and you long to be back in front of the heat, cooking from your heart.

You’ve been cooking since you were ten, watching your grandmother in the kitchen slave away for all the major holidays. You remember how it felt when you made your first apple pie - how you went to the local market and bought the freshest green apples you could find and cut them up like she did, adding the right amounts of nutmeg, brown sugar, and other needed ingredients. You made your own crust and watched everyone marvel at your dessert. You guess you could say that your grandmother stirred your love for cooking. God, you miss her.

You hear Mingyu shuffle behind you, the scent of chocolate and cream greeting you before he does. You nod, moving to the seat furthest away from the door to give yourself space. You don’t hate Mingyu; you two are friendly with each other and help each other out when needed. He’s always treated you with respect and never condescended you when you made a suggestion. Your eyes undoubtedly work, and you would be a liar if you didn’t admit he is handsome. His model-like looks, toned body, great hair, and he just happens to be a good cook? It’s almost not fair. But fortunately for you, you haven’t fallen for his charms. He’s the golden retriever that everyone wants to be around. Well, except for you.

“So,” Rich starts as he shuts the door. I want you to know that I respect both of you, and it was tough to make this decision; hence, we are doing this. Plus, it’ll be fun, bring up the morale of the restaurant while we’re in Madrid—” “Wait,” you hold your hand up. “Are we going to do this in Madrid?” “Well, yes,” he says casually. “It’s only fitting we do it there. It’ll give you a chance to feel the vibe of the area and get some fresh ingredients. Lord knows you can’t get it here in the city.”

Mingyu chuckles, and you instinctively dig your thumb into your palm, your mind already thinking of the cost of a ticket, hotel space, etc. Rich can be a dramatic pain in the ass sometimes.

“We will cover everything, of course; all you need to do is be ready for international travel. You can bring one person from the restaurant as your assistant. Oh, and here is some paperwork you will need to fill out.” Several minutes later, with all the paperwork signed and details worked out, you shuffle out of the office one by one. Rich leaves first, rushing out like a bat out of hell, his wooden smell following him and the tension in your chest. You’re plagued with thoughts about coming up with a menu, packing to leave, and who’s going to watch your cat Grey while you’re gone. You feel undervalued, still bothered that you even have to do this. Does your many years of being here not mean anything to Rich? Is your cooking not good enough? Why keep hinting that you could have something bigger here just to string you along? All of this frustrates you with a passion.

You need a fucking drink.

Your nose wiggles at the smell of rich chocolate, your mouth salivates, and your stomach rumbles shortly after. You have a terrible habit of not eating when hungry as you focus on making food and serving others. While your mind is on food, you aren’t paying attention to Mingyu in front of you, bumping into his back. Your face grows hot with embarrassment, refusing to meet the gaze of your competitor for your dream job. “Hey.” His deep voice knocks you out of your mental fog.

“W-what’s up?” You stumble through your words. “I just want to say it’s an honor going toe-to-toe with you for this spot. There wouldn’t be any other person I would want to go against. You’re a great chef.”

For that tiny moment, you felt seen and appreciated. Aside from Shena, no one seemed to care about the hard work you put into The Palm Cuisine, and you thought about quitting so many times. But despite being unappreciated, you love the food, the culture, and the customers that come in. You can’t imagine yourself anywhere else.

“Thanks,” you clear your throat. “You’re good too.” Mingyu nods, a strand of hair falling over his forehead. Seeing him up close, you have to admit, he’s attractive. You get why everyone trips over their feet when he’s around. You have much more discipline than that despite the vibrations through your body. “Also, you need to eat,” he says matter-of-factly. “I heard your stomach before you bumped into me.”

Whatever spell you were temporarily under ceased immediately, knocking you back into reality.

“Ladies first,” he says, moving out of the way to let you through. His hand lightly touches your back as you walk by, making that part of you hot as if it were touched by something warm. You return to your stations, cleaning them off to be ready for the customers who are set to come in later. “What was that about?” Shena pops up beside you, eyeing you suspiciously. “Just some stuff about this unnecessary competition and getting an assistant to help me and whatnot,” you shrug.

“Wow, that’s kind of grand,” she looks perplexed as if you are telling a joke.

You nod, grab a granola nearby, and take a bite, curbing your hunger a bit.

“So…” you let your voice trail off in suspense. “How about you come with me to Spain?”

Your morning sucked. You barely slept, and when you finally did, you woke up to three missed alarms and was running an hour late. You had less than a week to plan to leave the country and spent most of your night packing for ten days and making sure your cat, Grey, would be comfortable while you were gone. He is a rescue; you adopted him from the animal shelter when you volunteered with Shena a year ago. He was your cuddle buddy; you haven’t been without him for more than a day. “I’m going to miss you, buddy,” you give him a good scratch. He purrs lazily, curling himself into a ball and going back to sleep. You are grateful that Shena’s girlfriend, Lumina, offered to come over and feed him while you were gone. You were considering dropping him off at one of those pet daycares for the week or hiring a cat sitter, but she came through in the nick of time. She works at the animal shelter you adopted her, and coincidentally, that’s where she and Shena met and fell in love.

It was nice seeing them fall for each other. It was like watching a silly, quirky rom-com play out in front of you. You see the magic in Shena’s eyes when she looks at Lumina, the warmth in her voice when she talks about her. Shena described Lumina as a warm hug on a rainy day, and you could believe that. They are made for each other.

You hear a notification on your phone telling you your Uber is outside. You send a quick text to Lumina, giving her the code to your door, and give one last look around before you go across the ocean. “Bye, Grey,” you whisper, ensuring the door is locked before leaving.

Silvery-white clouds rolled into the early morning sky as you walked to your Uber, the ground wet from the fresh rain a few hours before. The smell of rain has always soothed you; the clean, earthy petrichor wakes you up a bit more. You quickly greet the driver, putting on your AirPods and playing a playlist you made. You watch the remaining droplets of rain left on the window roll away as your driver cruises down the highway. Where you come from, it hardly rains as it's primarily hot year round. On the rare occasions when it did, you would open your bedroom window, sit in your bed, and watch the water hit the Oleander flowers in your backyard. It was one of your two favorite smells in the world, the other being apple pie.

Mixed in with your annoyance about having to have a competition to prove yourself as a chef, you are looking forward to leaving the country. You have never been to Spain before, let alone Europe. You have traveled and seen a few things, but Mexico is the farthest you have gone. You spent much time last night looking up main attractions, museums, and local areas to see if you have the time. You want to visit the local markets and taste the local food. Rich set up all of your travel and living arrangements, and all you have to do is show up and cook. You are going to make the most of your time there. Who knows when you will be able to travel again? At the very least, you plan on coming out of this thing, winning it all.

“We’re here.”

When you look up, the airport entrance pulls up to your right. The ride feels shorter than it is, but you are lost in thought about many things. You thank your driver, grab your suitcases, and walk to the airline’s front desk to turn your bags in. You arrived with thirty minutes left to spare, and there was a long line already; it wasn’t even 8 am. You can’t help but yawn as you hand over your bags to the agents, fatigue and the lack of sleep kicking your ass.

“You’re all set,” the agent hands over your printed ticket. “Have a safe trip.” You nod, heading towards security and breezing through the checkpoints before arriving in front of the underground train. Your purse feels heavy on your shoulder, and your eyelids threaten to close as you stand. You usually have good sleep management, but you stressed over this trip all night. What if you come all the way out to Spain for nothing? You don’t think you could continue to work for Rich anymore. It would hurt too much.

The train comes shortly after, and you shuffle inside, trying to find a seat in the back before it is taken. You see one and settle down, your shoulders dropping as you finally sit down. You lean your head on the cold pole, hopeful that closing your eyes for a minute will give you some of your energy back.

“Are you as tired as I am?” You recognize that voice, annoyance slowly creeping in as your longing for a bit of solitude is interrupted.

“Mingyu, what a surprise,” you mutter without cracking an eye open.

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your voice. It’s one of a kind,” you deadpan.

He chuckles as the train flicks forward, sitting next to you. You begrudgingly pull out your ticket, realizing you will not get to relax until you’re sitting on that plane. Noting the concourse you need to get off on, you look ahead, counting the stops you have until you have to get off. Mingyu hums softly, adjusting his backpack and pulling out his headphones.

“Have you ever flown first class before?”

Your head snaps his way, not registering what he’s saying. “What?” “First class? Have you ever been?” “I-uh, no,” you stumble through your words. “Why does it matter?”

“Uh, did you even look at where you’re sitting?”

“Well, yes?” you say incredulously, looking at your ticket again. “Of course, I know where I’m sitting—”

You don’t finish that sentence; instead, your mouth forms a small “o,” unaware that you would be sitting in first class. You have never flown in those seats before, the closest being business class a couple of rows behind the curtain. Those tickets were not cheap, and you only purchased them because you wanted to treat yourself to graduating culinary school, which you were able to do by saving all of your tips from your waitressing job.

You don’t like admitting that you were wrong, and you aren’t going to admit it now. Instead, you rake your fingers in your hair, nodding and shoving your ticket in your back pocket.

“You’re welcome,” Mingyu taunts you, nudging your shoulder. “Yeah, yeah,” you shake your head.

You can barely suppress your smile, saved by the announcement that your concourse is approaching. You both rise out of your seats, moving towards the doors before the train jerks suddenly, making you fall forward into Mingyu. He grabs your hips, holding you steady until you’ve caught your balance. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, and your body is hypersensitive to his inadvertent touch. His grip is firm and protective, bringing an unexpected tingle to your core. You couldn’t feel more thankful that you were looking down; you couldn’t look him in the eye out of embarrassment. You don’t even have a crush on this guy, yet you feel hot and bothered.

“Be careful, princess,” he crouches low enough for your ears only. “We don’t need you flailing around this train.”

“Don’t do that,” you scoff. “Don’t call me princess.”

“Why?”

The train doors open, and you calmly remove his hands from you, gazing deep into his eyes.

“Because I’m far from that.”

You walk away before he has a chance to respond, looking for the gate you need to be at. Bitchiness aside, you stand on what you said. You aren’t some helpless person waiting in a tower for someone to come save you or give you a handout. You’ve worked hard for everyone to see you more than a woman, as it already has a stigma. The constant belittling of your intelligence, being told to “wait your turn,” you are done with it. You’ve taken control of your destiny your life, and you will not be treated like some delicate little girl waiting to be saved from a castle… no matter how hot the knight is.

You feel relieved when you find your gate and a familiar face sitting with her iPad in her hand. As if she felt you coming, Shena looks up and waves you over to where she is sitting. Dressed in mint green sweats and matching crocs, she stands out in front of the dull black seats.

“There you are,” she greets you with a hug. “It’s not like you to be late. I sent you a text wondering where you were.”

“You did?”

You pull out your phone, and sure enough, you have received one unread message from her. She must have sent it when you were on the train, distracted by Mingyu and his hands on your body. It’s not like you to get riled up, and it ticks you off that it happened with him, of all people. Your life is a joke.

You plop down next to her, cocking your head back in exhaustion. Before fully relaxing, you feel the seat beside you shift, followed by the smell of light cologne and chocolate. Looking over, you see Mingyu adjusting his bag before setting it on the ground. He is holding a small chocolate bar and taking a small bite, savoring the decadent treat as he licks his lips. You look away before being caught, chagrined that you were staring at him for that long. What is with you?

“Oh hey there, Gyu,” Shena waves at him. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Oh, I just got here,” he smiles. “I had to find my way to the gate since this one here is a speed walker.”

“Oh? You guys arrived together?”

“Not together, together,” you emphasize. “We just happened to be on the same train, that’s all.”

You purposely avoid Shena’s eye contact, clearing your throat and changing the subject.

“Did you notice we are flying first class?”

“Yeah!” Shena beams, pulling out her ticket. “I’ve never been out of the country, let alone first class. Lumina was bummed she couldn’t tag along. The shelter has her tied up, and it is kinda last minute.”

“Aww,” you rub her knee. “There will always be a next time, right?”

Shena nods, and the flight attendants announce they are about to start boarding, starting with first class. You pop out of your seat first, grab your things, and stand in line. Anticipation drills in your heart, wanting nothing more than to sit in some very comfortable seats and sleep throughout this 8-plus hour flight. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Mingyu behind you, his eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. He leans in closer, the hairs standing on the back of your neck as his lips barely touch your ear.

“I know you’re not a princess,” he whispers. “You’ve proven to be more than that. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need someone to care for you sometimes.”

You were next in line and couldn’t respond without the flight attendants giving you weird looks. Instead, as they check your ticket, you do what you know best: bite your tongue, smile, and push it aside.

Madrid is exquisite; it is everything you saw on your Pinterest board and more. You’ve been here a few days and are in love. You are surrounded by gorgeous cerulean waters, good weather, and historic sites you always wanted to see as a child. The Almudena Cathedral, one of the most prominent catholic churches in the world, took your breath away when you went to visit. The Francisco de Cubas architecture throughout made you appreciate art more, one of the most beauteous works you have ever seen in person.

You also took time to visit the local market, talking with the locals about their lives and picking up fresh food to try out different dishes for the competition. Shena was a big help, taking over in Spanish if you needed help and also giving fresh ideas on what to cook. You knew a bit of Spanish to get around the city and ask questions, but coming from a Spanish-speaking household, Shena could convey your ideas in ways you couldn’t understand. You will be forever grateful for that.

“It looks like we’re here.” Rich called you both to the restaurant this evening to show you around and tell you where your cooking stations would be. The restaurant stood atop a hill, with small walk-up steps made of stone mosaics. Surrounded by boutique shops and a couple of markets, this was the only restaurant on the block; you couldn’t miss it. You understood quickly why Rich took this location. He meets you at the entrance, greeting each other in dos besos.

“Welcome, let me show you around. Mingyu is already here.” You walk into the small waiting area before entering a gorgeous main dining area with walls made of Spanish moss brick. The bar is neatly placed in the middle, already loaded with the finest wines and other liquors. The dining tables and chairs are made of mahogany, giving you a vibe that you are back home in the country.

“Ah, there he is,” Rich looks to your right.

Mingyu walks up, wearing a white beater accentuating his well-toned arms and acid-blue jeans that hit him perfectly. You couldn’t stop ogling him if you wanted to; you would’ve thought he was a model off the street if you didn't know him. His eyes scan Rich and Shena before landing on you, a slight smirk on his lips that only you seem to notice. Ever since your encounter at the airport, he’s been on your mind, and you hate it. You still feel his hands on your hips on the train, as if he imprinted on you.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I had to find the bathroom.” “No worries,” Rich waves him off. “Let me show you around.”

He takes you to where your cooking stations would be, explaining how everything was set up and where to find your ingredients so you could prepare them. The competition is in three days, giving you enough time to finish your menu and prep before the big day. The kitchen is magnificent, a sight straight out of your daydreams: stainless steel appliances, expensive cast irons, and utensils you’ve always wanted that were way out of your budget. You may hate the idea of this competition, but working at this location would be a dream come true.

“Imagine if we got to work here,” Shena whispers. “I’ve only seen kitchens like these on Master Chef.” You nod in agreement, your fingers barely grasping the counter's surface. Rich finishes showing you around and asks everyone what their plans are leading up to the big day. “Nothing, just prepping and looking around the city a bit more,” you shrug. “Well, that sounds boring! ” He exclaims. “Madrid has such a fun nightlife. It would be a shame for you to miss out. As a matter of fact, why don’t you kids go to Kapital tomorrow? I can get you a table, and you can let loose.”

“Well, shit, okay!” Shena pipes up before you can respond.

You groan internally, not in the mood to be body-to-body against strangers, sweating your hair out during loud music. You don’t see yourself having fun until this whole thing is over. How does this guy expect you to relax? It’s not like his dreams are on the line. You look over at Mingyu, who matches your gaze, leaning against one of the refrigerators.

“Yeah,” his eyes finally tear away from you. “I’m down.”

You’re the only one left who hasn’t given an answer, and everyone is looking at you expecting one.

“Okay, let’s do it,” you mask your disdain with a smile.

“Great!” He claps his hands in excitement. “I will send you the details later and get you set up. Have fun.”

Rich walks you out, and you ask for the bathroom. You need a moment to pee and think in peace. He points you toward one, and you walk into the grand bathroom decorated with an old European interior that was undoubtedly above your salary. You walk to the furthest stall away from the door, rubbing your temples as you do what you need to do. For the most part, you handle stress well. You compartmentalize your feelings about what needs to be done, and you’ve been fine. Even now, with this competition vastly approaching and Mingyu somehow encompassing your thoughts when you’re around him, you’re fine. You haven’t cracked.

You aren’t sure why this is affecting you so much. You still think about when he touched you on the train and how your body felt alive. You haven’t been with anyone in a long time. Is your body so desperate for intimacy that you melt at the first person who gives you attention? No, that can’t be it. You’ve been fine all this time. Why is Mingyu getting under your skin? Shaking those thoughts away, you wash your hands and look at yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Swinging the door wide open, you are met by the man who has been plaguing your thoughts since you’ve been here. He was waiting for you, his back leaned against the wall, fiddling with a toothpick in his mouth.

“Rich and Shena are waiting for you… you can get kind of lost here,” Mingyu says.

“Mmhmm,” you nod slowly. “Well, let’s go.” The walk back to the front feels longer than it is. He hums a soft tune as he strides beside you, like he’s your equal, your partner. You wouldn’t admit this out loud, but you feel comfortable.

“So, what have you been doing since you’ve landed?” Mingyu asks.

“I did some sightseeing,” you respond. “I visited the Almudena Cathedral and the local markets with Shena and got some ingredients for the competition. Oh, and worked on the menu.” “That’s it?” Mingyu looks surprised. “There is so much more of Madrid you have to see.” “Well, it’s not like I have a lot of time to go out there and explore,” you defend yourself. “Plus, I can’t really relax with this thing coming up.” You point at the kitchen. “How do you do it?” “How about I show you?”

You stop dead in your tracks a few feet away from the door.

“What do you mean show me?” You eye him suspiciously. “I’m going to pick you and Shena up tomorrow, and we will explore together. There’s so much the world has to offer besides cooking and work.”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“You’ll see.”

You both walk outside, and Shena sits at one of the tables, talking candidly on the phone. Rich is nowhere to be found. The moon peeks over the horizon, the white orb’s light shining over the waters. Normally, you wouldn't agree to such a thing, but he has a point. Maybe you should live a little. “You are something. You know that?

Mingyu shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just believe in living life to the fullest. We don’t know how long we may have.”

You eye him more, studying his face in hopes that you can find a false truth and be more at ease. When you don’t, it does the opposite of relaxing you; it makes you nervous. You might be starting to like this guy.

Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll send you the address.”

“He’s here!” You check yourself out in the mirror, smoothing the middle of your blue floral white dress. You opted to wear your hair in a low bun, matching earrings, and a necklace you’ve had for years. Sliding on your white sandals, you grab your purse and leave your room. “Phew!” Shena whistles at you. “Qué guapa estás!”

You roll your eyes playfully as she pops out of her seat, sporting a white top and blue jeans, accessorized with a light cardigan and a simple gold necklace. You usually wouldn’t dress up this nice for an outing with friends (and Mingyu), but you wanted to be prepared for anything, and it would kill you if you were underdressed. Plus, you were going to be in Europe! Why wouldn’t you want to be prepared?

You walk out of your Airbnb and meet Mingyu as he comes in. He is dressed casually in a white collared shirt and black shorts, the slight breeze lifting his shirt and exposing his abs. It took a lot of brainpower to look away, instead diverting your attention to the inside of your purse. He looks tanned and relaxed, as if he is one with Madrid. If only you could relax like that.

“Hey, Gyu,” Shena waves. “Thank you for leading the way on this grand adventure.”

“No problem,” Mingyu smiled. “I want this to be a fun day, and I figured we have a driver, so why not?”

He looks at you, and your heart patters. The sun and slight breeze do not help your plight as you fight internally against acknowledging how sexy he looks. You hate your body for the way it’s betraying you right now, feeling inadvertently turned on.

“You look pretty,” he marveled at you.

“Thanks,” you nod sheepishly, walking to the black car behind him. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

There is a tiny bit of you that wants you to look good for him, to be seen that you put in the effort. When you get in the car, you greet the driver, sitting in the back row, hoping he will get the hint that you want to be left to yourself and your thoughts. But that didn’t work that way, as he climbs in and sits right next to you, with Shena seated in the row in front. His cologne is light, different from the usual sweet, chocolatey smell you’re accustomed to when he’s around. It’s enchanting, exciting, and further puts you in a mood. “So where are we going?” Shena probed, snapping on her seatbelt. “The Royal Palace,” Mingyu announced. “They have a tour, and I figured we could get lunch afterward.”

The driver pulls off, and you gaze outside the window, admiring the beautiful architecture of Madrid. Visiting the Royal Palace was on your bucket list, but you didn’t think you would have time. You’ve seen the pictures on Pinterest and talked to some locals at the restaurant who have been, but you’ve always been told that tickets are hard to get. You never thought it would be attainable for you.

“What are you thinking about?” Mingyu’s deep voice infiltrates your thoughts.

“Nothing, really,” you say, smoothing out your dress. “I am just enjoying the foreign atmosphere.”

“Foreign atmosphere?” Mingyu chuckles. “That’s an interesting way of saying you enjoy the view.”

“Well, are we not in a foreign place?” You retort.

“Well, yes.”

“Alright then.” You look back out the window, biting your lip to hold back a grin. You are thankful for the soft tunes from the car radio, letting the reggaeton beats drown out your very loud thoughts. Mingyu gets you riled up in a way that no one can. He doesn’t frustrate you in ways like the other men do at the restaurant. Deep down, it’s not in an ill manner; he is just like the golden retriever: nudging your leg with a bone in his mouth, begging you to play with him.

“I brought you something,” he nudges your shoulder. “I know you didn’t eat.” You look down and see that he is holding a granola bar coated with vanilla and almonds, poking out of a sandwich bag. The sweet smell is heaven to your nose, and your mouth slightly salivates. He tapes Shena on the shoulder, handing her one of her own.

“You made this?” Shena probes, carefully taking it from him. “This is really sweet.”

You take a small bite of it, and your taste buds do a happy dance. The vanilla was freshly made, and you taste the granola, almond, and sweet spices used to make this perfect bar. You aren’t big on breakfast, as you’re used to getting up and moving on the go, but occasionally, you will grab a granola bar and eat it on your breaks at work, this one explicitly being your favorite. Maybe Mingyu knows you better than you thought.

“You’re right,” you confessed. “I hadn’t eaten anything. Thank you.” The car pulls to a stop, arriving at the grandiose building known as The Royal Palace. You wait until everyone leaves the vehicle, barely climbing out without tripping over your feet. Standing outside of the gates, you are in awe. You aren’t sure if it’s dopamine, but the air suddenly feels different and almost cleaner. You scrambled into your purse, pulling out your portable camera to photograph the palace. This place may not be one of the world's seven wonders, but in your heart, it is. “Oooo, let’s take pictures while we are here,” Shena squeals.

She pulls you and Mingyu close to her, takes over the camera, and snaps a few photos together and separately. Usually, you would be annoyed if it was someone else, but she is your best friend. You can let her get away with a few things. Mingyu goes to the booth to confirm they have arrived, returning with three tickets to take inside. “We can go in through a separate entrance since I got the tickets ahead of time,” he announces. You flip through the pictures through the camera, excited to take more. You feel his eyes bore into you, and you suddenly feel hot.

“What are you looking at?” You say, putting your camera away.

“Your smile,” he confesses with a cheeky grin. “I want to see it more often.”

You gaze at each other for a moment, your mouth parted with much to say and nothing at the same time. Mingyu keeps leaving you speechless, and you aren’t mad about it anymore.

“Are you two gonna keep staring at each other lovingly, or are we gonna do this thing?” Shena’s words snap you out of your reverie, and Mingyu chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. You walk over to her, linking your arm with yours.

“There is nothing loving going on.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “Let’s go look at some royalty.”

When you planned for this trip, you set a time to visit the Almudena Cathedral, visit the local markets, and plan your menu. You weren’t going to hold Shena to that standard even though she is your assistant. You thought you would be fine if you focused on nothing but food and didn’t get distracted. Mingyu, however, might be proving you wrong.

You sit at his Airbnb, watching him make lunch for you and Shena. He insisted on making something instead of eating out somewhere, and who are you to turn down a free meal? The Royal Palace was everything you imagined, learning about the history of Spain beyond what was in your textbooks in high school. You consider yourself a history buff, wanting to learn more about the world across the different seas. You’ve had that desire when you were a little girl, sitting on your grandmother’s lap and listening to her stories from when she traveled as a young adult. She never got to visit Spain, but she talked about it a lot, being that they were world conquerors (or, as you like to say, colonizers) back in the day. You really miss her.

Mingyu sets your plate in front of you, a fried calamari sandwich with a side of garlicky mayo and fries he made himself. He tops it off with a small squeeze of lemon juice, just as you like it. When you make this at the restaurant, you always add lemon juice on top to give it more depth, but instead of the mayo, you have paprika-spiced tomato sauce on the side. Either way, this shows that Mingyu has been paying attention when you felt incognito.

“Dig in,” he announces, sitting next to you at the island bar.

It’s a comfortable silence between you three, munching away at your well-seasoned meal. If you had to be honest with yourself, it’s the best sandwich you have ever had. He fried the calamari in olive oil, turning it every minute or so because it doesn’t take that long to cook. He apparently had the calamari sitting in milk in the refrigerator since this morning, allowing it to tenderize before mixing it with his own seasoning flour. You and Shena offered to help, but he turned you down, stating you were his guests and he wanted to treat you to something good before you went out later that night.

“This was really good,” Shena praises him as she wipes her mouth with a napkin. “You have to come over again and make these for Lumina and me.”

“Anything for you two,” he teases. “As long as you keep making those margaritas.” They howl in laughter, and you feel a bit awkward as if they have an inside joke that you aren’t a part of. You smile politely, finishing off the last bit of your food before getting off your stool and grabbing your plate to wash.

“Aht aht,” Shena blurts, scrambling out of her seat. “I will be handling the cleanup. You two sit out there and act like you like each other.”

Your eyes throw darts at her for that last sentence, and she blows you a kiss as you walk to the balcony for some fresh air. The warm sun is welcome on your skin, the warmth taking away the chill you have in your bones from inside. You stare out into the sea, watching the boats go back and forth from the ports, the busy life from the markets a site to behold. You feel completely at peace for the first time since you’ve been here.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Mingyu pokes his head out from the balcony door, holding a pink lemonade decorated with an umbrella.

“Sure, if you are bringing that,” you quip, pointing at the drink.

“Of course, princess,” he jests back.

As you take the drink, you raise an eyebrow, debating whether you should be annoyed at that nickname or amused that he’s teasing you. He stands comfortably next to you, admiring the cerulean blue waters in front of you.

“This place is beautiful, isn’t it?” He sighs heavily. “I don’t want to leave.”

You look at him, his happy-go-lucky nature replaced by a look of sadness and longing. It’s unnerving, as you have always seen him with a warm orange aura around him. His hands grip the gate as he takes a softer, deeper breath, turning to face you.

“Can I ask you something?”

You nod slowly, your anxiety ticking up about what he wants to ask.

“What got you into cooking?”

You look away, staring back into the calm sea. No one has bothered to ask you anything personally about yourself besides Shena and Lumina, and you are unsure how to respond. It would mean opening a part of you to someone new, and you haven’t done that in a long time. It means that you would have to relieve your past and start trusting him, and you are scared of that.

Stepping across the magical line of faith and hope, you take a sip of your lemonade. “My grandma used to cook a lot growing up, and I would sit in the kitchen and watch her. Whatever you wanted, she could make it. My parents weren’t around, and she was the one who raised me. I eventually started cooking with her, which spurned my love for cooking, but mainly because I was doing it with her.” You pause, your breath shaky as you relive one of the hardest moments of your life. “On Christmas, I found her unconscious beside her chair. Apparently, she had a stroke and didn’t have oxygen for fifteen minutes before I saw her. I did everything I could to save her by hooking her with her oxygen machine before the paramedics arrived, but it was too late. She was declared brain dead.”

Hot tears fall down your cheeks, and you wipe them away quickly, embarrassed that you let yourself reach this point in front of Mingyu. He pulls you into his arms, allowing you to cry a little in his arms. Unbeknownst to you, Shena walks out and notices your tears, but Mingyu shushes her quietly, allowing you to grieve just a little bit longer. You regain your composure, giving yourself some space and adjusting his shirt. “I ruined your shirt,” you pout. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled softly. “You need something to lean on, and I’m glad I got to be that for you.”

Gazing into his eyes, you see the familiar warm orange swirling in his little orbs. Inadvertently, you move closer to him, your heart and body overruling your mind for once. Mingyu responds kindly, pulling you closer to him with his hands dangerously on your hips.

“Is it okay if I—”

“Mingyu, do it before I change my mind.”

His lips press against yours, and your legs almost buckle. It is soft and tentative, as if he is playing it safe in case you want out. But you don’t; instead, you kiss him deeper. It is as if something takes over you, and you can’t stop. Call it desire, passion, or any other synonym, but it’s what you feel. You want him, and so does he. His hands travel lower, giving your butt a soft squeeze, and you accidentally moan in his mouth. You think he likes it, though, because his bulge is hardening against your center.

“If we don’t stop, there is no coming back from this,” he breathes.

Your mind regains consciousness at those words; you know he is right. With one last kiss, you begrudgingly pull away, walking back inside and squarely bumping into Shena.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” She joked while taking a good look at you.

“Nothing, let’s just go,” you insist. “We still have to get ready for tonight and all.”

Shena looks at you and the balcony suspiciously but doesn’t say anything; honestly, you appreciate that. You don’t know how you can answer any questions she may throw at you. All you know right now is Mingyu drives you fucking crazy.

Part 2 will be coming soon. Likes, reblogs, and feedback are much appreciated :)

tag: @nonuify

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #svthub #svt fanfic #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt angst #svt suggestive #mingyu fanfic #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst

547 notes · View notes