#someone in the comments: is there space left for a girlfriend

[angstama]

03 ; spaces between us | l.jn

pairing: dad!lee jeno x f!reader (ft. na jaemin)

genre: angst, slight fluff

synopsis — three years after divorcing jeno, you've found a careful rhythm in co-parenting your son jun. the old fights about his work schedule and emotional distance have faded into polite exchanges and shared custody arrangements. but when small moments of connection start to feel like second chances, you begin to hope that maybe you could try again. though, it all falls apart when jeno asks to introduce jun to his new girlfriend. suddenly, you're forced to confront a devastating truth: the man who claimed he "wasn't good at relationships" during your marriage has apparently learned how to love properly—he just needed someone else to do it with.

a/n: hey lovelies~ this isn't really proof read but i promise i'll edit the errors as i re-read it on my flight to seoul :")))) this chapter was mainly inspired by day6's 'still there'🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ it's one of my favourite tracks of all time and imo jeno and y/n's ost tbh🙂‍↔️ thank you guys SO SO MUCH for the support this series have been receiving and im so excited to start on the next chapter (i have so many idea panned out omg). as i'll be away supporting dreamies on tds4 for all 3 concert days, i ask for your patience to give me some time to complete chapter 4~ i promise i'll have them up asap!!!!! once again, THANK YOU SO MUCH for the lovely messages and comments <33333 and please keep them coming because it motivates writers like me to continue writing!!!!! i love you guys so muchhhhhh~~

chapter music: still there - DAY6

sbu m.list | previous | next chapter

“if everything looks correct, you can sign here.” chen le’s voice was gentle, almost too gentle — wrapped in the kind of clinical calm only someone in his position could master. it was the practiced neutrality of a man who had watched too many love stories unravel in rooms just like this one.

but even he faltered for a beat.

because this? this was a love story he never imagined would end like this. he had seen you both through the storm and the sun — had celebrated your wedding from the third row, had stayed late at your apartment during the nights you fought but still chose to stay. he’d laughed with you at housewarmings and babysat jun once when you both were too tired to keep your eyes open.

he had seen your love endure.

until now.

and though his tone remained even, his eyes lingered on you with something quieter. something that almost looked like grief.

he tapped the dotted line with his pen, a faint click against paper that somehow echoed louder than it should have. you stared at it. the inked void where your name was supposed to go haunting you instantly almost like a quiet reminder of what you were about to let go.

your fingers tightened around the pen, knuckles white against the smooth silver and feet planted on the ground, like your body needed to anchor itself against the weight of this moment.

but your hand wouldn’t move.

how could it?

how do you sign the end of your life as you knew it?

across from you, jeno didn’t hesitate. no falter. not a single pause. just the smooth sweep of his signature bleeding across the page. as if eight years of marriage were just a formality. as if twelve years of loving each other from awkward teenage beginnings to building a home, to raising a son could be condensed into a line of ink and left behind without ceremony.

you couldn’t look at him. not when he looked like stone, like he had already mourned something you were still clinging to and you wondered if it meant less to him?

or if he had simply gotten better at hiding the hurt.

because surely, you couldn’t be the only one sitting in this quiet, airless room, staring down at the ruins of a life you built together — desperately rewinding every memory like a broken tape, trying to catch the exact moment things began to slip.

the nights you stayed up waiting. the mornings you carried the weight of both your worlds. he times you swallowed your pride, softened your voice, reached across the silence between you just to try.

you had given so much — so much of yourself, your time, your patience — to fix the cracks before they split wide open.

so how could it be that you were the only one still clinging to the pieces?

how could he sit across from you like this calm, collected — while you were still mourning the end of your relationship?

you finally signed the paper. it was just ink. but it might as well have been blood.

“is this really what you want?” your voice cracked on the last word, shame blooming in your chest. you hated how small you sounded. how vulnerable. but you asked anyway. because part of you still needed him to say no.

jeno didn’t flinch. he just looked down at the paper between you both and nodded, slow and solemn. “it’s what we need.”

you let out a bitter laugh, incredulous. “what we need?”

“y/n—”

“no.” your voice rose, sharp and shaking. “you don’t get to say that like we’re doing something brave. like this is noble. you just signed away twelve years of us, and you didn’t even blink.”

jeno’s jaw tensed. but he stayed quiet.

“and jun,” you continued, voice breaking again. “what about him, jeno? what happens the next time he asks why we aren’t a family anymore? do you have a perfect answer lined up for that too?”

“i think about him every damn day,” he snapped, the words finally cutting through the air like a blade. “don’t act like i don’t.”

“then why are you giving up?”

“because we’re already gone, y/n. you just can’t admit it.” jeno huffed, his words hitting you like a slap, causing you to stagger back in your chair, the wind knocked clean from your chest.

he lowered his gaze, hands clenched tightly in his lap. “we’ve been gone for a while. and you know it.”

and maybe, somewhere deep down, you did.

but knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

knowing didn’t make it okay.

tears welled in your eyes, hot and blurring the edges of the world. you pressed your fingers to your mouth to keep the sob from slipping out. but it came anyway.

you tried to be strong. you tried not to beg.

but your voice was a whisper when you asked, “how did we get here?”

jeno didn’t answer, simply looking at you with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen — like maybe he wanted to take it all back, but didn’t know how to anymore. like maybe he had already accepted being the villain in the story just so you could both finally rest.

"i don't know."

you never truly got over the day your marriage with jeno ended.

no matter how much time passed, it lingered — a shadow stretched long behind you. you remembered every detail with unbearable clarity: the cold press of the pen between your fingers, the silence that rang louder than anything said, and the way jeno looked when he signed the papers.

it sat at the back of your mind like a weight you never stopped carrying — surfacing in every disagreement, every quiet exchange about jun. it gnawed at you in the moments between, when the house was quiet and you had no one to be strong for.

sometimes, you still hear your own voice from that day — cracking under the weight of heartbreak, begging him not to go. begging him to love you.

telling him you could do more. be more.

but jeno still looked you in the eye and decided he couldn’t do love with you.

and that broke something inside you.

not just your heart — but your sense of self.

because how could you not hate yourself, even just a little, for not being enough for the person who once swore you were everything?

you hadn’t planned to bring it up today — not like this.

but as soon as jeno showed up at your door, right on time, cap tucked under his arm and a smile that feels too normal for how not-normal things have felt lately, you knew you couldn't let it slide.

"hey," he says easily, glancing past you. "jun ready?"

"not yet," you replied, not moving aside for him to enter your home like usually do. "can we talk for a minute?"

you nod towards the small bench near your door. walking out as he follows you out and sits, hands folded loosely between his knees, waiting.

“you introduced him to her,” you say. no preamble, no patience.

jeno blinks, thrown. “what?”

“soomin,” you bite, your voice trembling. “jun told me. she gave him a lollipop. said hi to him by name. you already introduced them.”

jeno exhales, shoulders slumping slightly. “look, it wasn’t—”

"wasn’t like what, exactly?" you snapped, eyes narrowing. "you didn’t think I deserved to know that my son met the woman you want to build a life with? the woman you think is important enough to take him camping with?"

"you’re twisting it."

"am i?" your voice cracked despite your best efforts. "jeno, he called her lollipop auntie. that means he remembers her. he’s met her. he likes her. and you let that happen without even talking to me."

jeno opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, jaw clenching. he looked away for a second, like he couldn’t face you, like it was easier to aim his guilt at the sidewalk than at your eyes.

“she was leaving when we got back. it wasn’t planned,” he said finally. “she just gave him a lollipop. that was it.”

you stared at him, disbelief and disappointment bubbling under your skin like something volcanic.

"that was it to you," you said, stepping closer. "but not to him. and not to me. it’s not just about the lollipop, jeno — it’s about the principle. we agreed, didn’t we? that we’d talk about things like this first?"

"yeah, well, maybe i didn’t want another fight," he muttered. and then, under his breath, "i’m tired of feeling like i need your permission for every move I make."

you blinked. stunned. “excuse me?”

jeno looked up at you then, frustration surfacing behind his usually calm expression. “i’m trying, okay? i’m trying to make this work — the co-parenting, the balance, the split holidays and the monthly family days like we’re still whole. but we’re not. we’re not whole, and i’m doing the best i can.”

your throat burned, but you swallowed the tears before they could rise. "you don’t get to make me the bad guy for wanting to be included in our son’s life. i didn’t leave, jeno. you did. and now you want to rewrite the script like you’re the one who’s been hurt?"

jeno flinched at that. he exhaled hard, looking like he wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came.

you took a step back, pressing a hand to your chest like that could quiet the way your heart was shattering all over again.

"you could’ve told me. that’s all i wanted. to be told. to not be the last to know something important about our son. i’m not trying to control you — i’m trying to be his mother."

“that’s not fair—”

“no, what’s not fair is you putting her in jun’s life before we talked. what’s not fair is asking me to agree to the camping trip with her when you already knew they’d met. like it was my choice. like i had a say.”

you let out a shaky breath. “you said soomin was important. but did you ever stop to think about who’s important to me? what it feels like to be treated like an afterthought in my own child's life?”

jeno’s shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he looked impossibly small. but you didn’t wait for him to apologize. you didn’t even wait for him to catch his breath.

you just turned around and walked away — because if you didn’t, you might break again in front of the very person who once promised never to let you.

you sent jun off as per your usual weekly routine, waving him off with the brightest smile you could muster despite where you've left off with jeno.

the documents in your hands crinkled slightly, betraying the grip you didn’t realize had tightened since you left the apartment.

you were still thinking about it — jeno’s voice, the way his jaw clenched when you called him out, how his silence somehow hurt more than if he’d just yelled back. the ache lingered like smoke in your chest. and now, here you were, trying to will it all into the background as you made your way towards jaemin's office as per the instructions he's texted you.

the city pulsed around you, a little too fast, too bright, too indifferent. every honk, every hurried step of the strangers brushing past, felt like the world moving on without waiting for you to catch your breath.

then you looked up. the skyscrapers loomed above you, cold and gleaming as if a mirror to everything you once gave up for the life you thought would last forever. somewhere between chasing stability and building a home for jun, you had tucked away the version of yourself who once dreamed of standing in buildings like these, in rooms that smelled like coffee and ambition, with sharp minds and sharper tongues — and winning.

jaemin’s office was tucked on the fifty-seventh floor of a building that screamed sleek money and generational power. you had to sign in at the lobby, ride the elevator in silence next to someone wearing a watch that probably cost more than your rent, and rehearse in your head that you belonged here too.

you did, right?

the elevator doors slid open with a sterile chime. you stepped into the corridor, clutching your folder like a shield, heart still reeling from the confrontation with jeno earlier.

jaemin looked up from the table as you approached, his usual smirk halfway formed before it softened. maybe it was the stiffness in your shoulders or how you didn’t offer your usual sarcastic jab in greeting — either way, he noticed.

“hey,” he said, a little too gently for your liking.

“hey.” you slid into the chair, setting your folder down with more force than intended.

his eyes flicked to the paper, then back to your face. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you replied too quickly, flipping open your notepad. “just… long morning.”

jaemin doesn't press further, instead he slides you the cup of orange cold brew from that tucked away cafe from your old dormitory he remembered you loved back in university and swore that you couldn't live without it. "i hope your tastebuds haven't changed much."

you glanced down at the drink, the citrus-sweet scent wafting up to meet you. for a moment, it almost disarms the ache in your chest — almost. “you remembered,” you murmur, fingers curling around the condensation-damp cup. you don’t say thank you, but the way you held the drink — like it’s something precious — says enough.

jaemin just shrugs, settling back into his chair like it was nothing. but it wasn’t nothing. not really.

hours slipped away unnoticed as the two of you immersed yourselves in strategising, the world outside fading into the background. you sat curled up on jaemin's office office couch, sleeves rolled, pen tapping against your lip as your eyes scanned a paragraph for the fifth time.

“if we start by subpoenaing their quarterly disposal logs, we’ll see just how far back the discrepancies go,” you said, tapping your pen against the margin of the report. “but if they’re smart — and they usually are — they’ve already scrubbed them clean.”

jaemin leaned back in his chair, one ankle hooked over his knee, his fingers steepled thoughtfully beneath his chin. “which is why we go for the suppliers first. small contracts, subcontracted transport routes. someone always cuts corners, and someone always talks when their name’s not on the million-dollar invoice.”

you nodded slowly, the wheels already turning. “i can draft the outreach list for depositions. we can start local, where the impact was worst.”

“and we lean on the class action angle,” jaemin added. “emotional damages, long-term health risk assessments. those reports from the labs could back us if we play it right.”

“you’re not bad at this,” you muttered, feigning reluctance as your pen scribbled a note.

jaemin smirked. “and you’re still terrible at giving compliments.”

“not a compliment. just an observation,” you quipped, eyes on the file.

your eyes finally drifted to the clock perched on Jaemin’s desk, and the hands told you it was already 9 p.m. jaemin glanced up as well, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "huh it's already 9pm. do you have to go back to jun?" he asked.

you shook your head, pushing your chair back. “nope. he’s with his dad tonight.” you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, surprised by how freeing the thought felt. “i'm on my own.”

jaemin leaned forward, folding his hands on the tabletop. “then… would you like to grab dinner? my treat.”

the invitation hung in the quiet room, warm and unexpected. you studied his face—tired, but hopeful. “dinner?” you repeated, letting the word roll around. you realised you hadn’t eaten more than a handful of granola this afternoon. “where?”

“there’s a little ramen place a few blocks away. my go-to after late nights.”  he grinned, the familiar spark returning.

before you could answer, jaemin stood up excitedly, gathering his laptop. “come on. you'll love it.”

you followed him towards the door without much protest, surprising yourself with how easily you slipped into step beside him. "are you sure you're not gonna poison me?"

"if i wanted to i would've already done so earlier." he scoffed.

it was a small ramen shop tucked into the quiet corner of a side street, almost hidden beneath the shadow of towering skyscrapers. the signboard was weathered, its paint chipped and lettering faded with time, but the warm glow spilling from the windows gave it a charm that stood resilient against the sleek sterility of the city. inside, the air was thick with the scent of rich broth and slow-cooked spices, the kind of place that felt less like a restaurant and more like a secret haven—quiet, unassuming, and comforting in all the ways that mattered.

“wait—so you’re telling me you haven’t dated anyone since graduation?” you laughed, the sound bubbling out of you as you slammed your empty sake cup on the table a little too enthusiastically. “—not even for sex?” you asked, incredulous, as if jaemin had just revealed he’d been living on a mountaintop in celibacy for the past decade.

he looked mildly amused, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you spiral. “that’s your follow-up question?”

“i'm just saying!” you said, voice rising a little with the sake and disbelief. “you’re—like—you... aren't you rich?"

your cheeks were warm, not just from the ramen broth but from the sake steadily loosening the stiffness in your shoulders. you’d lost track of how many shots you’d had—three? five? more? all you remembered was suggesting a bottle of sake to shake off a long day of hard work and somewhere between pouring the second glass and slurping your noodles, the conversation had veered into personal territory.

jaemin, of course, hadn’t touched his drink. his cup sat perfectly untouched in front of him, condensation beading against the ceramic. he didn't say much after your little rant—didn’t confirm, didn’t deny. just leaned back against the booth, eyes on you, that familiar half-smile playing at the corners of his mouth. it was the kind of smile that said he was entertained. not by the conversation itself, but by you.

you, slumped just slightly forward with your elbow propped on the table, cheeks flushed from the warmth of the sake. you, asking wildly inappropriate questions like it was a courtroom cross-examination. you, so unfiltered in your tipsiness, so openly curious and bold. and maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just how long it had been since you both sat across from each other like this, but you didn’t hold back—not your voice, not your laughter, not the way you squinted at him like he was some puzzle you were determined to solve.

“you’re seriously not gonna answer?” you challenged, lifting your brows, sake cup in hand like you were about to swear an oath.

jaemin shrugged, still saying nothing, but there was a soft gleam in his eyes—fond, maybe. amused, definitely.

jaemin had his fair share of entanglements — fleeting connections, one-night stands, and the kind of half-hearted situationships that never made it past surface level. nothing ever stuck. not because he couldn’t commit, but because he never wanted to stay long enough to try. he always left before things could mean anything.

but sitting across from you now, watching the way your eyes crinkled with amusement and exhaustion, he found himself unwilling to let you know any of that. because for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be seen as the man who never took love seriously.

not with you.

you narrowed your eyes. “you're enjoying this.”

he gave a slow, deliberate nod. “a little.”

“a little?” you echoed. “wow, what a thrill it must be to be inside that mysterious, non-committal brain of yours.”

he tilted his head, lips curving just a little more. “you’re cute when you’re drunk.”

that made you freeze, sake cup halfway to your mouth. “excuse me?”

“tipsy,” he corrected smoothly, reaching for his water. “tipsy and opinionated. same thing.”

you blinked at him, mouth falling open for half a second before you recovered. “you’re deflecting.”

“i’m choosing peace,” he said, sipping his iced water calmly. “unlike someone.”

“peace is overrated.” you scoffed.

"what about you?” he said instead, quieter now. “why did you and jeno split?”

your breath caught. his dodge was smooth, clean. too clean. and now, the air between you shifted.

it wasn’t playful anymore. it was real. real enough that your throat tightened.

you looked away first, eyes settling on the rim of your empty sake glass, fingers absently tracing the ring of condensation. there was a strange comfort in avoiding his gaze — like if you didn’t meet his eyes, maybe the truth wouldn’t sound so raw coming out of your mouth.

“it wasn’t one thing,” you said finally, your voice quieter now, as if saying it too loud might make it crack. “we didn’t blow up. we didn’t cheat. we just… eroded.”

jaemin stayed silent, his elbows now resting on the table, body leaning slightly toward you like he was bracing for a tide.

“i gave up a lot for us. for the life we were building. and he did too. but somewhere along the way, it started to feel like i was the only one still holding onto it.” you laughed, but there was no humor in it. “i kept thinking if i worked harder, gave more, forgave more… he’d come back to me. but he didn’t. he just got busier. colder. and i got tired.”

you bit the inside of your cheek. “i asked him to fight for us. he didn’t.”

jaemin’s fingers drummed lightly against the table once, then stopped. “you asked him to love you, and he said no.”

the words hit more softly than you expected — like they’d been living under your skin, waiting for someone else to say them out loud. you gave a small nod, your throat thick.

“i told him i could change. do more. anything.”

you paused, throat tightening.

“and he told me he couldn’t do love with me anymore.”

the silence stretched, heavier now.

“and now?” he asked.

“now,” you exhaled, “we co-parent. we try to be civil. we try not to break each other in front of jun.”

a pause.

“but it still hurts?”

you blinked a few times, the heat of the sake crawling back up your chest. “every time he makes a decision without me. every time jun asks me why daddy’s not around more. every time i remember how hard i begged him to stay.”

“he was a fool,” he said finally, and this time, he meant it without a trace of smugness. you let out a breath — not quite a laugh, but close. “don’t say that. he’s still jun’s dad.”

“being a dad and being a husband aren’t the same thing,” jaemin replied, tone even. “and being one doesn’t excuse how badly he handled the other.”

you didn’t answer. maybe because part of you still wanted to defend jeno — or maybe because hearing someone else say what you’ve been trying not to admit was hitting too close to bone.

persistent throb at your temples. your mouth was dry, your head foggy, and the unfamiliar ceiling above you was definitely not your own.

you blinked a few times, trying to remember. the ramen bar. the sake. jaemin. too many shots. too many questions.

for a moment, you weren’t sure where you were. the sheets beneath you were impossibly smooth. high thread count. expensive. and the faint scent in the air wasn’t yours — something between cedarwood and expensive laundry detergent, subtle but unmistakably masculine.

you sat up slowly, head pounding, temple throbbing from the aftermath of the sake shots you so confidently downed last night. your eyes scanned the unfamiliar room — impossibly tall ceilings, soft grey walls, and sleek built-ins that looked like they belonged in an interior design magazine.

no clutter. no mess. not even a wrinkle out of place.

the windows spanned from floor to ceiling, flooding the room with soft daylight and a sweeping view of the city skyline. you’d never been here before — you were sure of it.

your phone buzzed violently on the nightstand beside you.

15 missed calls – jun's appa

and one message:

jun's appa: can you pick jun up this morning? something came up. urgent.

you groaned, pressing a palm to your forehead. your mind spun, rewinding through hazy fragments of the night before: ramen, sake, you asking too many inappropriate questions, jaemin smirking at you from across the table.

and then — blackout.

wait.

your eyes narrowed at the decor again.

is this...?

before you could even finish the thought, you heard footsteps coming your way.

you looked toward the door just as jaemin appeared, dressed in a plain white tee and dark sweatpants, his hair still a little tousled from sleep. he was holding a bowl of something steaming, and a glass of water in the other hand.

“morning,” he said casually, like this was something the two of you did every sunday.

“...where am i?” you asked, your voice dry and a little hoarse.

he raised an eyebrow. “you’re at my place.”

you blinked.

“why am i—?”

“because you passed out,” he said, setting the bowl down on the coffee table near the couch. “i didn’t know where you lived and calling jeno wasn’t exactly on my to-do list.”

you stared at him. “so you just… brought me here?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” he smirked. “you drooled on my shoulder the entire cab ride and then face-planted into my pillow. zero sex appeal involved.”

your face burned hot as you buried it in your hands, muffling a groan. “god.” of all the people to unravel in front of, it had to be na jaemin. it was one thing to be a mess — but to be that kind of mess in front of him? reckless, unfiltered, and utterly humiliated?

suddenly, the memory of the fifteen missed calls crashed into you like cold water. your stomach twisted with panic as you shot upright, the blanket slipping off your lap.

“shit,” you muttered, scrambling for your phone on the nightstand. your fingers trembled as you unlocked the screen — fifteen missed calls, three texts from jeno, and a voice note you didn’t dare press play on.

“i need to go,” you said frantically. “jeno’s been trying to call me all morning,” you shook your head. “i was supposed to pick jun up. there’s something urgent— i don’t know, i didn’t see the texts—”

“hey, hey—breathe,” jaemin set the mug down and walked over, holding the bowl out gently like a peace offering. “drink this first. it’ll help the headache. then i’ll drive you.”

you hesitated, eyes flicking between the soup and your phone. “it’s not your responsibility.”

“neither was carrying your unconscious body into my apartment last night,” he said dryly, crossing his arms. “but here we are.”

you gave him a tired glare. “you’re not funny.”

“not trying to be.”

he nudged the bowl towards you again.

“you’re no good to jun if you pass out mid-pickup,” he added. and that was what made you sit back down.

you picked up the spoon again with a shaky hand, sipping slowly. jaemin leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you but not hovering. after a few more bites, you exhaled.

“thanks,” you said, still not looking at him.

“don’t mention it,” he replied, walking off towards living room. “i’ll grab my keys.”

// to be continued

taglist: @chaoticstrawberryland @bbykaixx @strawberrytyong @desiree-lee @mybearcollective @dilflover44 @kangshinwoolovin

[theinfinitedivides]

watching Seok Jin's TDP's Q&A rn and the amount of proposals coming in for this man from every direction i'm cryingggggg

[cbeargyu]

marry me, mr. jeong

summary: while everyone around you is getting married, you're left behind—no ring, no lover, just silence waiting at home. but one night, your boss, mr. jeong, makes an unexpected proposal: "marry me." and suddenly, your quiet world begins to burn.

pairing: boss!jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: romance, slow burn, fluff, emotional smut, domestic married life, eventual pregnancy, emotional growth, healing.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), strong language, emotional vulnerability, pregnancy mention (later), minor angst, lots of kissing, crying, soft husband jaehyun, tooth-rotting fluff, crying-in-the-club type of love.

wc: 19,7K

notes: i’m obsessed with jaehyun as a boss, boyfriend, hubby, and daddy lmao. man’s got range 😮‍💨💍🖤 i swear i try to keep it short but my brain goes rogue every time 😭 like girl be fr, when’s the day i finally drop a short fic??? bye lmao 💀

you’re twenty-nine, and the number feels heavier than you thought it would. not because it’s old—not really—but because thirty is close. and thirty means expectations. by now, you were supposed to have it all figured out. at least, that’s what they say. your friends certainly make it seem that way with their photo-perfect marriages, toddlers learning to walk, houses in peaceful neighborhoods. meanwhile, you still live in a quiet apartment with plants you often forget to water and a fridge that holds more takeout containers than groceries.

you work at an architecture firm—clean lines, big ideas, and even bigger egos. the kind of place where late nights are common and recognition is rare. you’ve built a name for yourself, though. you lead your team well, your ideas consistently get approved, and your work ethic has never been in question. the other women whisper that you’re just trying to impress the boss, that your dedication is nothing but a strategic flirtation. they don't know that your passion isn’t about pleasing anyone but yourself. well, mostly. maybe part of you does want to be seen. to be acknowledged by him.

jeong jaehyun.

your department lead. two years younger than you, but somehow always carrying himself like he’s lived three lives already. he doesn’t talk much. doesn’t engage in the small talk that fills the office kitchen or the empty flattery some of your coworkers throw his way. he’s serious, focused, almost too calm. the kind of man who’s unreadable, and yet somehow always watching. you’re not close, not really, but there’s a quiet understanding between you. he trusts you. you can feel it in the way he gives you space to lead, the way he nods subtly in meetings when you speak, the way his eyes linger sometimes—not in a way that feels invasive, but like he’s... thinking.

you’ve never seen him flirt with anyone. never seen him talk about his personal life. no ring, no photos on his desk, not even vague mentions of a girlfriend or family. and while no one dares to say anything to his face, everyone wonders. he's a man, though—no one criticizes him for being single. no one asks him what he's waiting for.

you, on the other hand, can barely go a week without someone making a comment. still not married? you’re so pretty, what a shame. your mother means well, but every call ends with a variation of you’re not getting any younger, sweetheart.you smile through it. you tell them you're happy. you tell yourself that, too. but deep down, there's a quiet ache. because you’ve always wanted a family. always dreamed of being a mother, of coming home to someone who knows you—not just your schedule or your favorite takeout order, but the way you think, the way you feel things deeply and try to hide it. but love hasn’t knocked in years. not since your last relationship ended at twenty-two, before the world hardened your heart. since then, you’ve been too busy, too careful, too tired.

tonight, you're staying late again. the office is nearly empty, save for a few flickering lights and the buzz of a vending machine down the hall. you're finessing the last pieces of a major project, making sure every detail is just right. you're in the zone when you hear soft footsteps approaching, and then his voice—low, familiar, closer than expected.

“you’re still here, byun?”

you glance up to find jaehyun standing by your desk, hands in his pockets, that usual unreadable expression on his face. there’s no judgment in his voice, just quiet curiosity.

you offer a tired smile, leaning back in your chair. “oh, mr. jeong, i just wanted to polish a few things before the presentation. i figured if i leave anything messy, the senior managers will rip it apart. and then you’ll take the heat for it.”

he raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that almost looks like a smile. “you care that much about how i look to the execs?”

you shrug, turning back to your screen. “you’re my boss. if you look bad, i look bad.”

he lets out a soft exhale, a sound that's dangerously close to a chuckle. then he leans against your desk, his body relaxed but his eyes still sharp as ever. “you’re too committed.”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

he shakes his head. “not bad. just... rare.”

a brief silence settles between you, not awkward, but weighted. it feels like he’s about to say something else, and when he does, it’s not what you expect.

“doesn’t your family mind that you stay this late?” his gaze holds yours. “your husband? kids?”

you blink, the question catching you off guard. your smile falters just slightly, and you look down at your hands before answering.

“no husband. no kids. no one waiting at home.” you try to sound casual, even throw in a little laugh. “i guess i’m just married to the job.”

he doesn’t laugh. doesn’t look away. “i didn’t know.”

you nod, suddenly very aware of the silence around you. “most people assume. but... yeah. i live alone.”

another pause. then, gently, you ask, “what about you, mr. jeong? i mean, you’re always here late too. no one waiting on you?”

he looks away for the first time, his jaw tightening slightly before he answers. “no one yet.”

and there it is again—that silence between you. but this time, it’s different. it hums with something unspoken. curiosity. surprise. maybe even recognition.

you return your gaze to the screen, not really seeing it. he’s still standing there, close enough to feel but not close enough to touch. something in the air shifts, and for the first time in a long time, your chest feels... not heavy, but full.

the next morning, you arrived a few minutes early—just like always. being punctual wasn’t about impressing anyone; it was about control, about proving—at least to yourself—that you had your life together. it made you feel reliable. consistent. in a workplace full of half-assed excuses and people who couldn’t meet a deadline to save their lives, your discipline was something you wore like armor. something no one could take from you.

your outfit was soft, delicate even—rose-pink skirt brushing just above your knees, a crisp white button-up tucked in neatly, the blazer matching your skirt in a subtle pastel tone. your heels clicked softly against the tile floor as you made your way to your desk, and as you passed the reflection on one of the glass panels, you couldn’t help but think: i look good today.

you did. your hair was in place, makeup light but elegant, lips tinted a faint nude-pink. polished. pretty. professional. but beneath all that... you also looked a little alone. not that anyone would say it to your face—but you could see it sometimes, in the glances people gave you. admiration, maybe. pity, sometimes. curiosity always.

you sat down, smoothing your skirt and adjusting your chair, reaching for the little yellow post-it you’d stuck to the side of your monitor the day before. your handwriting was neat, methodical. a short list of pending tasks, each one already being mentally checked off as you booted up your computer. you didn’t waste time—your fingers flew across the keyboard, and within minutes the familiar sounds of productivity filled your small corner of the office: the rhythmic clack of keys, the soft hum and spit of the printer warming up to spit out proposals and reports.

you didn’t hear him come in.

you were too deep in the flow, too focused on aligning the final report with the visual standards the company demanded. your eyes scanned the document line by line, searching for typos, ensuring everything was clean, sharp, presentable. the sound of footsteps behind you didn’t register until you felt it—that subtle, electric awareness that comes when someone is watching.

“good morning, byun. please leave the project report on my desk once it’s ready.”

he didn’t look at you. just passed by, smooth and quick, his voice calm and firm, a cup of steaming coffee in one hand, the familiar scent of roast beans and expensive cologne trailing behind him like a silent presence. his stride didn’t falter, his gaze fixed ahead, like he’d already moved on to the next ten things in his mind. you barely had time to nod, mouth parted to respond, but he was already disappearing behind his office door.

you blinked.

right. the report.

you gathered the last printed pages, slid them into the presentation folder, double-checked the order, smoothed the cover with your palm before rising from your seat. your heels clicked softly against the floor as you made your way down the short corridor, your fingers lightly tapping the edge of the folder, nerves tightening with each step even if there was nothing to be nervous about. it was just work. just jaehyun. just another report.

you knocked once and entered when he answered. he was seated behind his desk, sleeves already rolled up to his elbows, the dark veins of his forearms visible as he typed something on his laptop. he glanced up, briefly, then reached for the report when you held it out.

“thank you,” he said, flipping it open with precision, already scanning the contents. “at two p.m. we have the meeting with upper management. you’ll be joining me at the table. along with choi and hwang.”

you nodded. “understood.”

“good. go over the numbers one more time before then. they’re likely to ask.”

“yes, mr. jeong.”

and that was it. no warm smile. no thank you. just professional, cold efficiency. you turned and left, closing the door gently behind you before returning to your desk, the weight of the upcoming meeting settling on your shoulders like a familiar cloak. you’d been through this before. plenty of times. but it never got easier. not when the room was full of men in suits who barely hid their condescension, who chewed through ideas like tasteless gum until someone—usually jaehyun—said something smart enough to catch their interest.

you spent the next few hours fine-tuning the financial section, making sure your data was clean, graphs properly labeled, estimates realistic but still ambitious. it was a delicate game—making things sound innovative without actually suggesting anything too risky. they didn’t want bold. they wanted impressive illusions of boldness packaged in safe wrapping.

the meeting room was as bland as ever. too much glass, too much beige. you sat at the long table beside jaehyun, your laptop open, presentation ready. the managers arrived first, already complaining about another team’s failed prototype. the director entered last, stone-faced as always, his tie perfect, his opinion impossible to read.

as expected, the meeting dragged. they picked apart the proposal, paragraph by paragraph, expressionless until one of them grimaced like the very concept of originality offended them. you watched them, these men who nodded at each other but rarely smiled, who offered feedback that wasn’t feedback, just empty phrases like “it needs more punch” or “is this trend even scalable?”

then jaehyun spoke.

his voice was calm, slow, measured. and yet he made every single line sound convincing. powerful. like there was no other way forward but the one he was laying out. the room shifted around him. the tension eased. eyes narrowed—not in skepticism now, but interest. he wasn’t just presenting; he was selling a vision, and you felt yourself straightening with pride even if the credit wasn’t yours.

until he said your name.

“y/n,” he said, still facing the director. “if you could present the budget projections.”

you froze for a half second. not out of fear—just... surprise. you hadn’t expected him to call on you so soon.

you stood, smoothed your skirt unconsciously, and took a breath before switching slides. your voice was steady, even if your palms were clammy.

“these are the projections for the next two quarters,” you began, pointing at the chart. “we’ve estimated a moderate increase in cost during the development phase, with a break-even point projected for the beginning of q3. depending on the approved budget, we’re looking at a return on investment of approximately—”

you kept going, explaining the graphs, walking them through the numbers with careful clarity. no embellishments, no guesswork. facts. you swallowed once, clearing your throat before the final slide, then ended with a nod.

when you sat back down, jaehyun glanced at you. just a moment. a flicker of something almost soft in his expression.

like you’d done well. like you couldn’t possibly disappoint him.

the rest of the meeting blurred. the managers began tossing in extra suggestions—small changes, tweaks they hoped would impress the director. the man nodded, offered vague praise, and you remained at your seat, listening to it all with a practiced, patient expression.

when the meeting finally ended, you stood beside jaehyun again. he didn’t say much—he never did—but as he packed his laptop, he looked at you.

“good work today,” he said. “you’re an essential part of the team. if you keep this up, i’ll make sure your name’s considered for the upcoming promotions.”

you stared at him, momentarily stunned. the words hit harder than you expected. you’d worked for five years, given everything to this company, and this—this was the first time someone above you had said something that felt... real.

“thank you,” you said softly, trying not to let your smile get too big. “really.”

he nodded. “you earned it.”

later, when the director extended the dinner invitation, you didn’t hesitate. it wasn’t optional. the team needed to show up, needed to mingle, to pretend everything was a celebration and not an endless cycle of office politics masked with clinking glasses.

the bar was upscale but casual enough to loosen people’s ties. smoke from grilled meats hung faintly in the air, the tang of sweet sauces and roasted garlic filling the space. you sat between your supervisor and jaehyun, trying not to feel too stiff in your work clothes. everyone was drinking, toasting, laughing louder than they had all day.

the supervisor leaned forward, voice slightly slurred. “you know,” he said to the director, “the whole prototype? the mockup? the execution timeline? all her. y/n practically carried the whole thing.”

the director turned to you, surprised. “really? how long have you been here?”

“five years,” you replied, sipping from your glass.

he raised a brow. “how is it possible i haven’t noticed you until now?”

jaehyun, still beside you, said nothing—but you felt the subtle tension in his posture.

“you’ve got a good employee,” the director told him. “it’s your job to shape her. teach her. sounds like she’s already on the right path. with the right guidance... she’ll move up in no time.”

he raised his glass. “to y/n.”

“to y/n,” echoed around the table.

you lifted your glass, cheeks warm—not just from the alcohol but from the unfamiliar sensation of being seen. you smiled, surrounded by coworkers and approval and good food, and for a moment, just one moment, everything felt like it was finally going somewhere.

you were finally going somewhere.

the dinner had blurred into noise.

conversations overlapping, laughter rising and falling like tides. glasses clinked, meat sizzled on the grill, the warm lighting softening everyone's expressions into something hazy and unguarded. you sat at the long table, just a bit to the side, the smoky scent of barbecued meat in your hair and the echo of compliments still lingering in your chest. across from you, your supervisor had long since slipped into a drunken retelling of his glory days. to your left, jaehyun sat quietly, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. his arms were strong, veins defined even in the low light, and on his left wrist, a sleek, expensive watch glinted every time he reached for his glass. he hadn’t touched his soju in a while, though. he just held the rim between his fingers and occasionally let his gaze wander across the room.

when your eyes met, it was casual, almost accidental. but you didn’t look away.

“you’re not drinking,” you said, quietly enough that only he could hear.

he offered the ghost of a smirk, the kind that barely pulled at one corner of his mouth. “someone has to remember what was actually said tonight.”

you laughed, a soft breathy sound, grateful for his clarity amidst the chaos.

a silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. rather, it felt like a small space carved out just for the two of you—unbothered, untouched, a bubble where you didn’t have to keep smiling or pretending. you let out a quiet sigh, swirling your untouched drink in your hand.

“do you ever feel like you're running out of time?” you asked, voice low, not even sure why you were asking him of all people.

jaehyun looked at you, brows drawn slightly, intrigued but still calm. “time for what?”

you hesitated, fingers tightening around your glass. the alcohol was warm in your chest, but not enough to numb this confession.

“for everything,” you admitted. “i mean, professionally… things are going great. i can’t complain. i’ve worked hard, and it’s starting to pay off. but…” you looked down, lips pressing together. “sometimes i feel like i’m trapped inside a giant hourglass, watching the sand fall, grain by grain. i’ll be thirty in a few months. and i know that shouldn't mean anything, but in a world where people expect you to have everything figured out by now—marriage, kids, some picture-perfect life—i feel like i’m falling behind. like my dreams are moving farther and farther away.”

you took a breath, not daring to look at him.

“it’s just… sad,” you continued. “when you achieve something big and there’s no one waiting at home to celebrate it with you. no partner, no family. no one to say, ‘i’m proud of you.’”

jaehyun was quiet for a moment. then his voice came, soft and even.

“i can celebrate with you.”

you looked up, surprised, blinking at him. “thank you, but… that’s not what i meant. it’s not the same.”

he held your gaze. then, calmly, like he was offering a solution to a logistics problem, he said it.

“then marry me.”

your brain stalled.

you didn’t understand at first. maybe you misheard him. maybe he was joking, or drunk—except his voice hadn’t changed. his tone hadn’t wavered. your stomach dropped.

“…what?” you whispered.

“you want a family. you want someone to come home to. marry me.”

the words hung between you like smoke. absurd. unreal. your mouth opened, but nothing came out at first. you glanced around—everyone else was too busy laughing or slurring their next toast to notice what had just happened.

you leaned in slightly, voice tense and hushed. “mr.—jeong—what are you talking about? we don’t even know each other like that.”

“we know enough,” he said without blinking.

“we’ve never even had a real conversation outside of work until now.”

“so let’s have more,” he replied, as steady as always.

you felt like your heart was beating too loudly. “are you… are you seriously suggesting we get married?”

“i’m not suggesting it. i’m telling you i’d do it. if you said yes.”

you stared at him, at the cool detachment on his face, the quiet certainty in his voice, and felt your world tip on its axis.

he shrugged. “how long until you turn thirty?”

“…my birthday’s in november,” you muttered, the words escaping before you could even process them. “it’s april now. that’s seven months.”

jaehyun nodded slowly. “then you have seven months to decide.”

he finished his beer in one slow, final gulp. then he stood up, reaching into his wallet and placing a few bills under his empty glass. you were still frozen when he stepped beside you.

“i’ll take you home,” he said.

you tried to protest, voice stumbling over half-formed refusals. “you don’t have to—i can call a cab, really—”

he looked down at you, expression unreadable.

“that wasn’t a request. it’s your boss giving you a ride.”

and with that, he turned, waiting for you to follow. your legs felt heavy as you stood, your mind racing, still reeling from what had just happened. marry him? seven months? he was serious. he was actually serious.

you had no answers. only questions. and one man who had just offered you everything you’d spent your life pretending you didn’t need.

you didn’t sleep.

not really. you tossed and turned, arms flung across the bed one minute and buried under the covers the next. jaehyun’s words echoed in your skull like an intrusive melody, looping over and over again.

then marry me.

you have seven months to decide.

like some sort of countdown had been triggered.

you must have stared at your ceiling for hours, trying to make sense of what he meant—what it meant for you—and whether he’d been serious. but the worst part wasn’t the proposal. the worst part was how calm he’d been, how effortlessly he’d said it, and how easily he’d walked away afterward like it hadn’t upended your entire sense of self.

your alarm went off at seven, and you hit snooze five times. by the time you dragged yourself out of bed, you felt like your bones had aged a decade overnight. you put on your makeup with the heaviness of someone trying to erase exhaustion from the inside out—concealer, color corrector, foundation. you went over your under-eyes twice, then a third time. you looked like yourself, but blurry. off.

you arrived to work twenty minutes later than usual, which was already enough to earn a few raised brows. no one said anything, but they noticed. you noticed them noticing.

you sat at your desk and stared at your drawers, forgetting which one you kept the monthly reports in. your fingers shook slightly as you shuffled through folders, trying to find the stupid paperwork you'd seen a million times. a stack of them slipped from your grasp and scattered onto the floor like a metaphor. you groaned and crouched down to collect them, muttering under your breath. your brain still felt like it was swimming through molasses.

then—

“good morning.”

his voice. that casual, bored tone he always used in the office. neutral, even, no trace of anything buried beneath it. no sign that he’d ever said something as life-altering as what he’d said last night.

you startled so hard you hit your head on the underside of your desk.

“good—ouch!” you winced, clutching your scalp with one hand and your pride with the other. “good morning, mr. jeong.”

he kept walking. didn’t glance down at you. didn’t smirk. didn’t check if you were okay. he passed your desk like any other morning, like he hadn’t proposed to you over beer and smoke and shared loneliness.

a few coworkers peeked over their partitions, concerned. you gave a shaky thumbs-up and a whispered, “i’m fine,” even though you felt anything but fine.

you weren’t like this. not at work. not ever. your name was synonymous with precision. discipline. control. and here you were, dropping papers and bumping into furniture like your brain had short-circuited.

you finally gathered the reports and brought them to his office.

he was seated at his desk, focused on his screen, the sleeves of his dress shirt still rolled to his elbows. your eyes caught briefly on the line of his forearm, the watch still there, still ticking.

“these are the reports from last month,” you said, setting the folder down.

“thanks,” he replied without looking at you.

you lingered.

“mr. jeong.”

he finally looked up.

his eyes were calm. cool. like nothing was wrong. like he hadn’t detonated a bomb and walked away from the wreckage.

you hesitated, your throat dry. “about what you said last night—”

his expression didn’t change.

“we’re at work,” he said simply. “i’m being professional.”

you blinked, almost offended. “so that’s it? you say something that insane and then just—go back to normal?”

“we’ll talk after work,” he said, returning to his screen. “if you want to.”

you stood there, gripping the folder even though it was already out of your hands, heart thudding with something sour and hot and unnamable. frustration? humiliation? confusion? all of it?

he was treating you like you were the one out of line. like you were being inappropriate for even bringing it up.

you turned around without saying anything else and walked out of his office, pulse hammering in your ears. the rest of the day dragged like wet cement. you couldn’t concentrate. you couldn’t remember what you were supposed to be doing half the time. you reread emails four times before hitting send. and every time someone walked past your desk, you wondered if it was him, if he’d say anything, if he’d look at you, if he even remembered what he said or if the memory of it belonged to you alone now.

you’d never felt so out of control.

you didn’t know what was worse—his silence or the fact that you wanted him to break it.

you tried to focus. god, you really did. you stared at spreadsheets until the numbers blurred into static. you answered emails with words you didn’t remember typing. every time the phone rang, your heart jumped, irrationally convinced it might be him—even though you were in the same building, separated by maybe thirty feet of glass, air, and unspoken tension. it felt like the longest day of your life. your temples throbbed with a slow, building ache, like your thoughts were pressing too hard against the inside of your skull.

you popped two painkillers around lunchtime, washed them down with lukewarm water from your reusable bottle, but they didn’t help. not really. because the pain wasn’t just physical—it was mental. emotional. a kind of pressure that wrapped around your ribs and squeezed.

your mind wouldn’t shut up.

you kept looping the same questions, over and over again, like your brain was stuck on a carousel with no exit.

why would he say that? why now? why you?

he already told you he'd wait. seven months. seven impossibly long, slow-burning months.

so why talk? why meet? it wasn’t for him. it didn’t serve him. he’d been clear. he had time, he had patience. this conversation—it was for you. you were the one desperate to make sense of it. to understand his motives. to justify the insanity of it all.

but how were you supposed to justify something that made no sense?

he’s twenty-seven. handsome. polished. wealthy. he could have anyone—literally anyone. girls younger than you, brighter than you, women who weren’t crawling toward their thirties with a fading list of half-achieved dreams and a fridge full of takeout leftovers. why you?

a mid-level employee in a department no one paid much attention to. someone who had to fight tooth and nail just to be noticed in board meetings. someone who had accomplishments but no one to toast with. someone who fell asleep most nights with their phone face-down and on silent because no one was texting anyway.

why you?

you didn’t have an answer.

you finished your tasks—barely—and the moment the clock hit the end of your shift, you shut your computer down with shaky fingers and grabbed your bag. your steps felt heavy, reluctant, as you made your way through the hall toward the entrance. part of you wanted to bolt, to pretend nothing had ever been said, to go home and crawl into bed and put on a show you wouldn’t really watch. to sleep off the confusion like a bad hangover.

but the doors opened before you could entertain the thought. those clean, automatic glass doors slid apart with a hiss, and there he was.

leaning casually against one of the white pillars just outside, his suit jacket draped neatly over his forearm, his other hand gripping his sleek black briefcase like it weighed nothing. he looked like something out of a commercial—well-dressed, composed, the perfect image of success. but when his eyes met yours, something flickered beneath the surface. maybe restraint. maybe tension. maybe nothing.

he walked toward you calmly, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the smooth tile.

“get in the car,” he said, voice even. “we’re going to talk. like you wanted.”

not a question. not a request.

he turned without waiting for your answer and made his way to a parked luxury sedan—shiny, deep black, windows tinted so dark you could barely see the interior. he opened the passenger door for you, as if the conversation that waited inside was just another part of his routine.

you hesitated, only for a second.

but then you followed.

because no matter how messy your thoughts were, no matter how terrified or confused or unworthy you felt, one truth cut through the noise:

you wanted to know.

you slid into the passenger seat, trying to calm the way your heart was sprinting inside your chest. the door closed beside you with a quiet thunk, sealing you into a space you weren’t sure you were ready for.

he walked around the front of the car and got in behind the wheel, smooth and unhurried.

you stared straight ahead.

ready—or not—to finally ask the questions that wouldn’t leave you alone.

the silence in the car wasn’t uncomfortable. not exactly. but it was dense—like fog inside your chest, heavy and silent and there to stay.

you stared out the window as the city drifted past, familiar buildings made foreign by the storm in your head. beside you, jaehyun drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift. there was music playing—low, jazzy, old—but he didn’t speak. not until you passed a traffic light and he tilted his head, casually.

“did you get enough sleep last night?” he asked, like he was commenting on the weather.

you didn’t look at him. “not really.”

“figured,” he said, turning smoothly into another avenue. “you looked like hell.”

you gave a humorless chuckle, resting your elbow against the door and propping your chin in your hand. “thanks for the compliment, sir.”

“anytime,” he said dryly.

and that was it. that was all the small talk he offered. nothing personal. nothing intimate. just an acknowledgment that he saw you. that he’d noticed.

the drive was short, and before you could make sense of anything, you were already parking in front of a modest little korean restaurant tucked between a laundromat and a bookstore. it smelled like steam, garlic, and simmered bone broth. a place where people went for real food and no-frills comfort.

“this place has the best gomguk in the city,” jaehyun said, grabbing his briefcase from the back. “been coming here since i was a teenager.”

you hesitated at the door. “you like bone soup?”

“love it.”

you wrinkled your nose. “i can’t stand that stuff. never could. not even as a kid.”

he paused mid-step and gave you a look, slightly amused. “well,” he said, “there’s our first disagreement as a couple.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard. “what?”

“now i know you don’t like gomguk. guess i’ll have to avoid cooking it for you.”

you said nothing.

because he wasn’t joking. not really. not entirely. and that was the part that made your mouth dry.

how could he say things like that so easily? so naturally? as if you hadn’t spent the entire day unraveling at the seams while he strutted through the office like nothing had happened?

he sat across from you at the table, unbothered, scanning the menu like it wasn’t even necessary. he already knew what he wanted. meanwhile, you still didn’t know why you were there.

you picked something else. kimchi jjigae, maybe—safe, familiar, strong enough to mask the taste of your confusion.

once the server took your orders and disappeared behind the curtain, you leaned forward, folding your hands together to stop them from trembling.

“why me?”

his eyes lifted slowly from the empty table to your face. “there’s no reason,” he said. “i just want to give you what you want.”

“do you say that to all women?”

he smirked. “if i did, i’d probably be married to half the city by now.”

you shook your head. “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“don’t treat this like a mission,” you snapped, trying not to raise your voice. “i don’t need your pity. i shared something vulnerable with you, yeah. but that doesn’t mean you have to swoop in and rescue me from a miserable life of solitude by offering a ring. this isn’t some fairytale. i don’t need a man to save me.”

“i never said you did.”

you exhaled slowly. “i want to love and be loved. to build something. something real. not this... whatever this is. a contract. a deal. a deadline to escape loneliness.”

his expression didn’t shift. not a single flicker. but his voice softened.

“then let’s say this. if in seven months, you still haven’t found someone—someone who makes you feel like you can build something... try it with me.”

you stared at him. hard. trying to read every intention in the lines of his face.

“just like that?”

“just like that.”

you couldn’t look away.

and then he said it. the words that settled into the cracks of your resolve like warm rain after a drought.

“we can love. i can love you. you can love me, if you want to. if you want to date, we can date. you don’t have to feel pressured. i just think... you’re worth the risk. and i don’t think you should torture yourself every day that passes just because you haven’t ‘settled down.’ opportunities don’t always come twice. sometimes you have to grab them while they’re here. or regret it forever.”

your lips parted, but nothing came out.

you looked at him then—not as the cold, polished man who walked the halls like a ghost in tailored suits. not as your boss. not as someone who confused and overwhelmed you.

you saw him as a man.

a man who knew what he wanted. who wasn’t afraid to take action. who looked you in the eye and offered you something you weren’t even sure you deserved.

his jawline. his eyes. the little wrinkle between his brows when he got serious. the calm way he listened. the confidence. the clarity.

you saw him differently.

you weren’t ready to give him an answer. not yet.

but something inside you had shifted.

you just didn’t know what to call it.

he didn’t rush you.

he didn’t push.

he just sat there across from you in that tiny booth, his sleeves rolled up and his tie slightly loosened, waiting with the kind of quiet confidence that only made your heart beat louder. he stirred his soup gently, letting it cool, occasionally taking a sip without ever looking away from you for too long.

and then he said it—casually, as if proposing something as simple as lunch next week.

“let’s do this. i’ll pick you up after work from now on. we’ll go out. have dinner. spend time together. see what happens. let it unfold naturally.”

just like that.

your breath caught. “i… i have doubts,” you admitted, almost in a whisper. “i don’t know what to say. i don’t know what to feel. this is all so sudden, so... fast.”

he nodded, unbothered. “that’s okay.”

you blinked. “that’s okay?”

“yes. it’s not a race. but you heard what i said—opportunities don’t always knock twice. you don’t have to say yes right now. just think about it.”

but you were thinking. too much.

his voice played on repeat in your mind: we can love. i can love you. you can love me. and god, wasn’t that the exact thing you’d been terrified of never having?

your fingers trembled under the table. your palms clammy, your mouth dry. you rubbed your hands together slowly, grounding yourself in that simple motion, trying to breathe.

he didn’t flinch. didn’t ask again. just kept sipping his soup, patient as stone, like he’d already accepted whatever answer you’d give him.

you stared at your food, at the steam rising, the way the aroma filled the space between you and him like something sacred. you still couldn’t stand bone soup. but somehow, being across from him made it smell less... offensive. less like something to run from.

and you remembered.

all those nights crying in silence.

all those mornings brushing your teeth with tears stuck in your throat because you didn’t know if ever would come.

ever finding someone.

ever being enough.

ever being loved without begging for it.

maybe he wasn’t what you imagined.

maybe he was better.

you looked up at him.

“okay,” you said, softly. then stronger. “okay. i’ll try. i’ll let you pick me up. we’ll go on these dates. maybe… maybe i can love you. maybe i can let myself be loved by you.”

he paused mid-sip, eyes lifting.

your voice cracked slightly when you added, “maybe i can stay with you.”

for a beat, the world went still.

he didn’t smile wide. didn’t gloat or tease.

he just gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod. his eyes warm, deep, but controlled—like someone who’d been expecting this moment and didn’t want to scare it off.

“good,” he said. “that’s all i needed.”

you swallowed hard.

and for the first time since that strange proposal, something in your chest loosened.

you weren’t sure if this was love.

but it was a beginning.

the next morning. everything is different.

you walk into the building like you own the damn place—heels sharp, suit immaculate, makeup clean and fierce, ponytail slicked high like a crown. the memory of yesterday—your stumble, your throbbing head, your wandering thoughts—now felt like a distant, irrelevant dream. that wasn’t you. this was.

a woman who knew what she wanted.

a woman who said yes.

you smiled to yourself in the elevator. not just any smile—that kind. the kind that curled at the corners, the kind that held secrets, the kind that felt like sin dressed in silk. the kind that belonged to someone with a man waiting outside a restaurant, ordering bone broth, and talking about love like it was something simple. doable. inevitable.

you were early. again. not by accident this time, but by choice.

you slid into your desk, organized, efficient, present. the hum of the office hadn’t started yet, and you took advantage of the calm, catching up on reports and scheduling the week like the good girl you were trained to be. but this time, it was different. you weren’t surviving the day. you were anticipating it.

and then—at exactly the hour—he walked in.

jung jaehyun.

same black suit. same silver watch. same air of cool detachment.

but today, when he passed by your desk and muttered his usual, “good morning,” you didn’t just nod like before.

you stood up—too fast.

too happy.

“good morning, mr. jeong!” you sang, voice lilting and almost musical, like you’d just won the lottery.

it was instinctual. not calculated. just... you.

the entire floor stopped.

heads turned.

some eyebrows shot up. a few eyes narrowed.

jaehyun himself halted in his tracks, looking back at you slowly, his brows drawn together in the tiniest frown. he cleared his throat.

“everyone, back to work,” he said, voice firm. and then, after one last look—eyes narrowed at you in something between confusion and amusement—he turned and walked away.

you bit your lip so hard it almost hurt, barely suppressing the giggle building in your throat.

the memory of last night echoed in your mind, maybe i can love you, maybe i can stay with you—and now here you were, trying not to beam like a teenager with a crush. you watched his back disappear into his office, and your lips curled up, despite yourself.

you could still feel his eyes on you. even if he wasn’t looking.

after work, you waited by the entrance as the glass doors slid open.

he was already there—like he promised. leaning casually against his car, black coat folded over one arm, briefcase in hand, gaze scanning the horizon like the perfect ceo out of a drama. but as soon as his eyes met yours, they softened—barely, subtly—but you noticed.

“get in,” he said, opening the passenger door for you.

you slipped in without protest, heart beating faster than it had any right to.

once the car pulled away from the curb, the silence settled—but it didn’t last long.

“you can’t do that,” he said, not harshly, just... firm.

“do what?” you asked, knowing damn well.

“greet me like that. like that.” he glanced at you sideways. “at work.”

you shrugged. “what? we’re dating now. aren’t we?”

“we’re seeing where this goes,” he corrected. “but we still have to be professional. people talk. your position can be affected. and mine—”

you cut in, not harshly but with a certain fire. “i’m not going to apologize for being happy.”

“i’m not asking you to apologize.”

“then don’t ask me to pretend. i’ll dial it down, sure. but i’m not going to act like you don’t mean something to me when we’re under the same roof eight hours a day.”

he stayed quiet for a beat, tapping the wheel with one hand, lips twitching like he was trying not to smile.

“is this how you are with all your boyfriends?”

you grinned. “i’m worse.”

he laughed. actually laughed. that deep, velvet sound you hadn’t heard much outside of formalities.

“well, i’ll brace myself,” he said. “i might enjoy it.”

you turned to the window, hiding your smile. this was really happening.

the drive back was quiet at first—a comfortable silence that didn’t demand immediate conversation. the kind of quiet that says: you don’t need to perform, just exist here with me.

the radio was on. a soft playlist of english ballads played in the background—songs about longing, beginnings, maybe even second chances. you doubted jaehyun picked them himself. it was probably just the algorithm. still, the timing felt so precise… so intentional, that you wondered if the universe was helping him out tonight.

you played with your fingers over your thighs, crossing and uncrossing your legs slowly, watching the night pass outside the window. city lights in the distance. trees swaying softly in the wind. you tried to guess where he was taking you next, but the truth was… you didn’t really care.

not knowing was part of the charm.

“where are we going?” you finally asked, unable to resist the curiosity.

he smiled without turning to look at you, eyes steady on the road ahead.

“it’s a secret,” he said. “you’ll have to wait and see.”

you squinted at him with mock suspicion, amused—and yet, inside, your heart started to thump a little faster with every mile.

there was something strangely beautiful about not being in control this time. about letting yourself be taken somewhere, not out of submission, but out of trust. you weren’t used to that. you weren’t used to letting anyone drive. but tonight, you wanted to believe you could lean back and just... be.

and then… the car turned down a dark, barely lit road, and you saw it.

a wide, open lot. a giant projector screen glowing at the far end. dozens of cars parked in neat rows, some with trunks open, fairy lights, blankets, snacks. couples curled together under the stars.

it was a drive-in movie. like something out of an old romance film.

you gasped, both hands flying to your mouth as you turned to him.

“oh my god. no way. are you serious?! i love the movies—but i've never done this. i’ve always wanted to, but… i don’t know. it just never happened.”

jaehyun glanced at you sideways. and this time, he smiled. really smiled. not the polite, composed smile he wore in the hallways or meetings—but something warm. something real.

“then it was a good idea,” he said simply.

he parked in the middle row. good view of the screen, but far enough for privacy. you were already melting—and then he popped the trunk.

a thick blanket. two small pillows. a tote bag with snacks—popcorn, a big soda bottle, even the exact chocolate bars you’d once said you liked during a random, probably drunk, late-night conversation. you didn’t even remember mentioning it.

he did.

“did you plan all of this?” you asked, curled slightly sideways in the passenger seat while he arranged everything with care between you.

“i just wanted you to be comfortable,” he said. “i wanted it to be... special.”

no posturing. no hidden motive. just sincerity. you felt it in the way he unfolded the blanket and draped it gently over your lap. in how he checked the window—cracked just enough to let in the breeze, not enough to let in the cold. In how he handed you the soda first, before even opening his own drink.

the movie started. some lighthearted rom-com with ridiculous dialogue and cheesy plot points, but it didn’t matter. it was perfect. low-stakes. no pressure. you curled your legs under you, blanket snug, the flickering light from the screen dancing across your skin.

every once in a while, you’d glance at jaehyun. and more than once, you caught him watching you instead of the film.

“are you bored?” you whispered.

“not even close.”

“you haven’t laughed once.”

he turned to you, that sarcastic little smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth, eyes narrowed just slightly.

“you’re already making enough noise for the both of us.”

you gave him a playful slap on the arm, pretending to be offended.

“that was a compliment,” he added, amused.

you rolled your eyes—but smiled. god, you smiled so much that night.

as the credits rolled, something shifted in the silence. the mood thickened—not heavy, just… deeper. weighted with something. a moment hanging on the edge of change. your head leaned against the window as the screen dimmed, your eyes distant but your heart so very full.

he still didn’t touch you.

he didn’t grab your hand. didn’t lean in.

but his presence wrapped around you all the same—solid, patient, waiting. not pushing, just there. learning how to be near you without demanding anything in return.

“thank you,” you said softly, voice almost too quiet to hear. “for this. for everything.”

“you don’t have to thank me.”

“yes, i do. it’s not every day someone goes out of their way like this.”

he paused before answering. his tone was steady, but low.

“i want this to work,” he said. “and if that means planning teenage-level dates with blankets and popcorn, then… yeah. i’ll do that.”

you laughed, eyes dropping to your lap.

“you’re doing well so far.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

and then you looked at each other. just looked. no words needed.

but inside… you felt it.

your shoulders, usually tense, were light. your heart, bruised and cautious for so long, was opening again. quietly, but surely. as if whispering, i’m still here. i still want to believe.

you weren’t sure where this would go. if it would last. if it would end in tears or something worse.

but right now, in his car, under the stars, with the last notes of the film still echoing through your skin…

you wanted to find out.

you wanted to try.

the next morning at the office felt different—less chaotic, more grounded. you greeted the receptionist with a small smile, your heels clicking softly against the marble floor as you made your way in, clutching your coffee cup like a security blanket. you weren't glowing, exactly, but something about you was… softer. less guarded. like a petal finally relaxing in the warmth of spring after a too-long winter.

jaehyun noticed immediately.

you caught him watching you from the glass-walled conference room as you entered the bullpen. he didn't stare, not in a way that would make it obvious to others—but his eyes followed you, just long enough to clock the change. your navy blue pencil skirt hugged your hips, the slit in the back offering just the right amount of grace as you walked. the cream blouse you wore was modest but elegant, the top button left undone, showing the delicate line of your collarbone. your hair was half-up, your makeup minimal, professional—but the gloss on your lips and the quiet shimmer on your eyelids betrayed a whisper of mischief. not overt. just enough for someone paying attention.

you met his gaze briefly through the glass and raised your brows in a silent hello before looking away, sipping your coffee with forced nonchalance.

by the time you crossed paths an hour later—both of you heading into a smaller briefing room—he gave you that look again. the one that asked, really? amused, but faintly disbelieving.

"good morning, mr. jeong," you greeted him politely, eyes straight ahead as if you hadn't spent the last night wrapped in his blanket, watching a movie with your legs tangled under it.

"miss y/l/n," he replied, his lips curving into a knowing smile as he held the door open for you. “very formal today.”

you didn’t rise to the bait. just gave him a brief, professional smile and walked past, heels clicking, not looking back. you were committed to the bit.

the meeting was brief, technical—a review of deliverables, some feedback loops, nothing out of the ordinary. you contributed where you needed to, kept your tone measured, avoided lingering glances. even when he made a rare joke and the room chuckled, you only allowed yourself a small, polite laugh, hands folded neatly on the table.

he didn’t push. but when you passed each other near the coffee station later, his voice dropped low, just enough for you to hear.

“you’re really leaning into the whole executive assistant with boundaries thing, huh?”

you smirked as you refilled your mug, still not looking at him. “just trying to keep things professional, mr. jeong.”

“of course.” he nodded once, pretending to adjust his tie. “wouldn’t want to cross any lines.”

you bit your lip to suppress your grin. the game was on.

at 3:47 PM, your phone lit up with a text from his office number: meeting with the department heads in fifteen. boardroom. don’t be late. signed J.J.

you rolled your eyes but your stomach did a little flip.

the 4 PM meeting dragged—there was a lot of back and forth over campaign numbers and rollout schedules, but you held your own, taking notes, speaking clearly when your insight was needed. you could feel jaehyun watching you when others weren’t—his gaze warm, grounding—but he didn’t speak to you directly unless it was related to the discussion. you appreciated that. It let you stay in control, let you breathe.

after everyone had trickled out and the room was quiet, you stayed behind a moment, closing your laptop and straightening the chairs without a word. he didn’t move from his seat at the head of the table, just watched you as you moved, his fingers idly spinning a pen.

“dinner?” he asked eventually, breaking the silence.

you didn’t look up right away. “are you asking as mr. jeong or...?”

he tilted his head, eyes playful. “just jaehyun.”

you looked up, meeting his eyes. something flickered between you—recognition. of the past few days, the softness in your chest, the way your shoulders had finally stopped bracing for disappointment.

“okay,” you said quietly. “dinner.”

he didn’t take you to a fancy restaurant or anywhere showy. just a quiet little rooftop place downtown, dim lights and mellow music, open air and the sound of the city below. you sat across from him at a small table, knees brushing under the surface. you shared dishes, laughed softly, talked about nothing and everything. he asked about your childhood; you asked about his first heartbreak. there was no rush to get anywhere. just being there—together—was enough.

at some point, after dessert and a second glass of wine, the conversation quieted. the city stretched around you, glittering and alive. jaehyun leaned back in his chair, watching you.

at some point, after dessert and a second glass of wine, the conversation quieted. the city stretched around you, glittering and alive. jaehyun leaned back in his chair, watching you with that open expression he reserved for moments like this—unguarded, gently curious.

“you said you grew up outside the city,” he said, casually swirling the remnants of his drink. “what about your parents?”

you set your fork down and rested your elbows lightly on the table, exhaling. “they still live in the same town. a couple hours from here.”

he nodded. “siblings?”

“one,” you replied. “older brother. married. two little boys.”

jaehyun smiled at that. “you’re the cool aunt.”

you laughed softly, the sound bittersweet. “i try. i send them stickers and weird snacks from the city. but i think i’m mostly the mysterious aunt who lives alone in seoul and doesn’t have a husband, which is a major point of concern for my parents.”

jaehyun raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “concern?”

“oh, huge.” you leaned back, crossing your arms with a mock-serious nod. “they think i’m one heartbreak away from crawling back into my childhood bedroom with a suitcase and giving up entirely. i get the same call every weekend—‘have you met someone yet?’ and ‘when are you coming home, sweetheart?’ like my single status is a national emergency.”

you smiled, tried to make it sound light. funny. but the knot in your chest tugged a little tighter with each word. because underneath the teasing tone, it hurt. the weight of expectation, of having let them down without really meaning to. you’d always thought, by now, you’d have that picture-perfect family. a husband. maybe a child. but life had taken its own sharp turns, and somewhere along the way, you'd lost the map.

before your thoughts could spiral too far inward, you turned your eyes toward him and asked, “what about you? any siblings?”

he shook his head. “only child.”

“wow. that explains the drama,” you teased.

he grinned, playing along. “what drama?”

you shrugged, playful. “the perfectly tousled hair. the quiet confidence. the whole mysterious boss with a tragic past vibe.”

jaehyun laughed, the sound low and warm. “nothing tragic, thankfully. my parents own a condo complex back in busan. they keep to themselves. ever since i moved out, they’ve stayed out of my decisions. no guilt trips. no blind dates.”

he smirked a little, taking another sip. “which is great for me.”

you smiled at that, but there was something about the way he said it—casual, yes, but laced with a kind of loneliness you recognized. the kind that came with being left alone a little too much. with being successful but still carrying a shadow no one quite asked about.

you watched him for a second longer than necessary. then nodded slowly. “that does sound kind of great.”

he looked at you then, really looked, and the silence between you shifted—deeper now. heavy with things not said.

the city hummed around you. glasses clinked from other tables. somewhere, a violinist was playing faintly near the street below. but you only heard the soft cadence of his breath, the way it matched your own.

and then he stood and offered you his hand.

you didn’t hesitate this time. you let him lead you to the edge of the rooftop, where the view was clearer, the air colder. your arms brushed as you looked out together, shoulder to shoulder, warm skin against cool wind.

he turned to you first, eyes darker now, thoughtful. “you don’t need to rush anything. marriage, or whatever they want from you. you’re… okay. just as you are.”

you looked at him slowly, your heart caught somewhere between gratitude and ache. “thanks,” you whispered. “sometimes i forget.”

he stepped closer—barely—but it was enough to make your breath hitch.

you met his gaze, and something shifted between you again. tighter. stronger. the kind of tension that doesn’t demand to be broken, only… felt.

he leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. you didn’t.

your lips met his softly, a single, tentative kiss that carried the full weight of everything left unspoken. sweet, searching, the kind of kiss that says i see you. that says stay.

and when you pulled back, your eyes didn’t dart away.

they lingered.

because something had begun. and neither of you was pretending anymore.

there was no big speech. no sudden declarations.

just the quiet gravity of this moment. the closeness. the way his eyes searched yours with a gentleness that made your breath catch.

april melted into may in soft, golden increments—like a candle burning slow at both ends. the weather grew gentler, the evenings warmer, and with each passing day, your relationship with jaehyun unraveled in small, tender pieces that neither of you rushed to name.

you had more dinners together. nothing extravagant—he wasn’t the kind to impress with grand gestures—but always thoughtful. ramen tucked away in a quiet corner shop with mismatched stools. a spontaneous detour after a work meeting that led to an art gallery’s closing hour. coffee at a tiny cafe with mismatched mugs and jazz playing softly from a dusty speaker. with every outing, something softened between you. the way you spoke to each other, the way you lingered a second longer when saying goodbye, the way your eyes found his in a crowded room and stayed there.

still, at work, everything remained perfectly composed. restrained. you never touched, never called him anything but mr. jeong. no one suspected a thing—and that secrecy gave it all the thrill of something sacred. childish almost. like passing notes under a desk. a shared joke disguised in a spreadsheet. your fingers grazing when you exchanged documents. a glance too long in the breakroom when he poured your coffee before you even asked. you could feel it in the air, that charged silence of two people pretending to be just colleagues, and failing quietly, deliciously.

the project itself was moving well—smooth timelines, promising data. it gave you an excuse to spend more time in his office, laptop open across from his, sometimes both of you too focused to speak for long stretches. sometimes one of you talking while the other typed, nodding with half-listening affection. sometimes, on the slow days, the lines between work and personal conversation blurred gently, like ink on damp paper.

today was one of those days.

you sat across from him, legs crossed under the conference table, scrolling through performance reports while he adjusted a chart on his screen. outside the windows, the afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting pale lines across the carpet and the sleeves of his shirt. he leaned back, stretching slightly, then caught your gaze with a small smile.

“so…” he said, voice lower than usual, “what are you doing this weekend?”

you glanced up, biting your lip to hide a smile. “why? do you need me to run more numbers?”

“maybe,” he said, teasing. “but i was thinking something less tragic. maybe the museum? or that poetry cafe you mentioned.”

you shrugged, trying to sound casual. “depends. are you asking as mr. jeong or as… jaehyun?”

he smirked, eyes playful. “i guess that depends on your answer.”

you were about to respond when the door opened without a knock. both of you sat up straighter instinctively, like students caught passing notes. the supervisor from the analytics division stepped in, scanning the room with barely concealed curiosity.

“mr. jeong,” he said, tone clipped, “the director wants to see you.”

jaehyun stood immediately, buttoning his jacket with an easy nod. “i’ll be there in a moment.”

the supervisor looked at you then. his eyes lingered—not long, but long enough. something unreadable passed over his face. “you’ve been spending a lot of time here,” he said, like it wasn’t a question.

you gave him your most neutral smile. “just supporting the project. we’re on a tight schedule.”

“mm.” he said nothing more, just nodded once and stepped out.

jaehyun glanced at you before leaving, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, maybe. or quiet warning. you went back to your laptop, fingers pretending to type while your heart tried to calm its sudden gallop.

the evening found you both in his car again. the sun had already begun its descent, turning the sky a soft shade of apricot. you slid into the passenger seat, closed the door behind you, and without thinking too much, leaned over to kiss his cheek.

his skin was warm under your lips.

he blinked, clearly caught off guard, and for a second, he forgot to hide it. the tips of his ears flushed red. he cleared his throat and reached for the ignition, like nothing happened, but his smile lingered, crooked and faint.

“you keep doing that,” he murmured, not looking at you.

“doing what?” you asked innocently.

he shook his head, eyes on the road. “making it hard to pretend we’re not dating.”

you grinned and didn’t answer.

he drove you to the han river, where the breeze was cool and kind, and the crowds were light enough to feel private. you sat cross-legged on the grass, sharing tteokbokki and fried dumplings from paper trays, watching cyclists blur past under the lamplights. a small speaker nearby played an old ballad, sweet and melancholic, and you leaned into his shoulder without needing permission.

“i like this,” you said softly.

“what part?” he asked.

“this part. where everything’s… quiet.”

he didn’t speak immediately. just reached over and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“me too.”

you looked at him, really looked—and it hit you in that moment how far you’d come. from formal greetings and polite distance to soft laughter and shared silence. from stolen glances to kisses on the cheek that left him blushing.

and somehow, without realizing it, you’d stopped keeping count of how many times you thought about him during the day. because now he was part of your days.

and you didn’t want to imagine them without him anymore.

june arrived with a subtle shift in rhythm—projects moved faster, deadlines drew closer, and the sun stayed longer in the sky. the office felt heavier in the afternoons, warm with late spring air and the quiet hum of new beginnings.

one of those beginnings came in the form of kim jungwoo.

he was transferred from the incheon branch—a bright-eyed analyst with quick wit and a laugh that filled corners. you were told he'd be supporting the data team, and since your department handled most of the projections, he was placed right in front of your desk, where your eyes met every time you looked up. your first impression of him was that he was disarmingly charming—too friendly, too easygoing for the stiff, quiet culture of the office—but undeniably efficient. he asked questions that made sense, learned fast, and had a way of easing tension with a joke delivered just under his breath.

you kept things professional, as always. showed him how you sorted the quarterly metrics, how to navigate the company’s outdated database system without crashing it, how to color-code your sheets for easier reading. he listened, smiled, nodded. and eventually, he joked. made you laugh when you’d been staring at the same budget chart for hours. brought you coffee with your name scribbled on the lid in dramatic calligraphy. sometimes too much, sometimes exactly what you needed.

you liked him. platonically. comfortably. it was easy to like jungwoo.

but jaehyun noticed. of course he did.

at first, it was subtle. he’d call you into his office more frequently, asking for reports he usually didn’t request until later in the week. you didn’t think much of it—until you realized he was keeping you in there for hours. even when the topic had already run dry, even when both of you were silently pretending to still be discussing something relevant. you’d glance at your watch, mumble about needing to check on jungwoo’s progress, and jaehyun would give you this look—tight-lipped, unreadable, almost irritated.

the third time it happened, you couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“are you seriously going to keep me hostage in your office every time jungwoo asks me a question?” you asked, laptop balanced on your knees, arms crossed.

jaehyun didn’t answer right away. he leaned back in his chair, one hand draped lazily over the armrest, watching you. but there was tension under his cool expression, the kind that coiled in his jaw.

“you’re my girlfriend” he said, voice low, measured. “even if we have to act like colleagues in this building, you’re not just anyone to me.”

your breath caught. not because of what he said—because of the way he said it. with that sharp, quiet certainty, like it wasn’t up for debate.

“you’re jealous,” you muttered, trying to smile, to turn it into something lighter.

“of course i’m jealous,” he said, leaning forward. “he’s new, he’s charming, and he’s looking at you like he already knows what you taste like.”

your face flushed.

you looked away, but only for a second.

because when you met his eyes again, he stood.

in two strides he was in front of you, taking the laptop gently from your knees and setting it on the coffee table without a word. then he cupped your face with both hands and kissed you—deep, slow, and hungry. there was nothing tentative about it. it wasn’t sweet or shy. it was possession, poured soft and molten through the shape of his mouth on yours. you sighed into it, hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulse thudding in your throat.

he pulled away just enough to speak, voice rough. “don’t tease me about this.”

you nodded, breathless. “okay.”

and then he kissed you again.

the kiss tasted like all the things you weren’t allowed to say out loud. frustration. longing. the ache of pretending, day after day, that you were only what the world let you be. his thumb stroked your jaw as his mouth opened against yours, deeper now, slower. you felt your knees weaken and your thoughts scatter, all logic melting into the heat of the moment.

that night, like every night since the start of your secret, you met him outside the office. his car waited at the edge of the lot, tinted windows and the soft thump of quiet music playing through the speakers. you slid into the passenger seat, your heart already dancing.

this time, he didn’t say hello.

he reached over and kissed you—harder than before, lips parting yours in a way that made your body sing. the car wasn’t moving. neither of you were thinking. you kissed like it was all you knew how to do. mouths hungry, breath shallow, his hand tracing the edge of your thigh just enough to make you gasp. every time you pulled away for air, he followed. every time he groaned into your kiss, you shivered.

he never rushed.

never crossed that line you hadn’t yet spoken about.

but you felt how close it hovered. just under the skin.

and as your lips brushed his one last time before pulling back, your forehead resting against his, you whispered, “i like it when you get jealous.”

his smile was crooked. dangerous.

“you better not like it too much,” he said, his thumb stroking the corner of your mouth, “because next time… i might not let you leave so easily.”

thursday crept in quietly, with no big plans or messages of anticipation. the city, usually loud and hungry for excitement, felt unusually tame that week—like it had spent itself on too many events, too many evenings out, too many people chasing novelty in crowded cafés and rooftop bars. maybe it was just you, though. maybe everything had started to feel dull because your world had shifted to revolve around something—someone—entirely new. and nothing outside of that circle could compare anymore.

you barely spent time in your apartment lately. always out. always in his car, in places that weren’t quite home but felt more real because he was there. so on that afternoon, with your head tilted against the cold surface of your desk and your brain spinning from spreadsheets, you blurted it out between quiet keyboard taps.

“don’t make any plans tomorrow night.”

jaehyun glanced at you from across his office, pen in hand, eyebrows drawn. “should i be worried?”

you smiled without looking up. “you’re staying over. the weekend. at my place.”

the pause was heavy. not uncomfortable, but... loaded. you didn’t dare lift your head until he spoke.

“wait—what?”

and there it was. you looked at him finally, biting your bottom lip to keep from smiling too wide. he looked stunned. genuinely caught off guard.

“you heard me. pack a bag. pajamas. toothbrush. snacks. i don’t know. whatever you need to survive two days with me.”

his face went red. a deep, rich pink that spread across his cheeks to the tips of his ears. you laughed. he was thinking things.

“ya, what were you imagining?” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him with a smirk.

“nothing!” he defended too fast. “i just... i didn’t expect we’d be spending the weekend... alone like that. it’s not a bad thing. i like it. i like the idea. i just—i mean, we’ve been doing great. this relationship. it feels good. real. and... if it keeps going like this, who knows—maybe one day we’ll get married.”

you froze.

he didn’t say it as a joke. it was quiet. casual. but he meant it.

married.

you hadn’t thought about that in weeks. you’d been so swept up in the rush of the new—new glances, new kisses, new secret dates and stolen evenings. but that word made your heart skip, stumble, leap. it opened a future you hadn’t dared imagine.

married to jeong jaehyun. walking down an aisle. your coworkers gasping. your parents trying to stay calm. him lifting your veil. kissing you like it was the beginning of forever. sunday mornings with kids and cartoons and coffee. vacations. shared bookshelves. him waiting at the door when you got home.

you shook the image out of your head.

“you can’t just say things like that,” you whispered, barely breathing.

“why not?” he asked softly, his eyes sincere. “it’s where we’re going, right?”

friday night came like a slow exhale.

he arrived with a small black duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a sheepish grin. you wore mismatched pajamas—striped pants and a faded hoodie from a school club you barely remembered joining. the sight of you like that made him laugh, and the sound was so unguarded it made your chest ache with affection.

you stayed in. ordered too much food. picked a cheesy rom-com that made you cry halfway through. he kept making sarcastic comments at first, trying to pretend he didn’t care, until somewhere in the middle he got quiet. his hand found yours under the blanket, warm and steady. when the credits rolled, your head was on his shoulder and your eyes were puffy.

“i hate that you made me cry,” you sniffled, wiping your face.

“i didn’t make you cry. blame julia roberts,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

the rest of the night blurred. an improvised dinner of instant noodles and wine, soft music from your phone speaker, him dancing stupidly in the kitchen with a wooden spoon, trying to make you laugh. and you did. hard. the kind of laugh that made you forget to be careful.

when it got late, and the lights dimmed, the kisses came back. slow. long. searching. his hands on your waist, your fingers in his hair, breathing each other in like you were afraid to stop. the heat built, like always, but neither of you pushed further. it wasn’t time. not yet. but god, it was close.

saturday was lazy and warm and beautiful.

you woke up tangled in the blankets, his arm draped over your stomach, his breath soft against your neck. the kind of morning you never thought you’d get to have—where nothing was urgent, and everything felt right.

you took turns in the shower, argued over who finished the milk, and spent an hour sitting on the floor flipping through old photo albums you’d forgotten you had. you didn’t plan to show him—but he insisted. and once he started looking, he didn’t stop.

“wait... this is you in high school?” he asked, pointing at a photo.

“yeah,” you said, embarrassed. “why?”

“you were so cute.”

you rolled your eyes. “i wasn’t popular or anything. i had one boyfriend. lasted a week.”

he stared. “a week?”

“he said i was too uptight and boring.”

jaehyun’s mouth dropped open. “that guy was an idiot.”

you laughed. “no, he was probably right. i’ve always been... structured. controlled. even back then. guess that’s why i’m like this now—such a workaholic.”

he didn’t laugh. instead, he kept looking at your photo—finger brushing over the glossy paper like it meant something.

“if i had met you back then,” he said quietly, “i would’ve fallen in love with you. no doubt.”

your breath caught.

he didn’t look away. “i wouldn’t have let you go. not for a second.”

“you don’t mean that,” you whispered, unsure what else to say.

“i do,” he said, firm. “you’re not boring. you’re brilliant. you’re thoughtful. you see things no one else sees. you work harder than anyone i know. and... you make me want to be better.”

tears pricked your eyes again. not from sadness. just—too much emotion. too much truth.

“you’re going to make me cry again,” you whispered.

“then cry,” he said, pulling you close. “but only if you let me hold you through it.”

the rest of the weekend passed like a dream.

grocery runs in sweatpants. a half-burnt attempt at making pancakes. arguments over which playlist was better for cleaning the kitchen. you wore ridiculous socks with cartoons on them. he made fun of you until you found his even worse ones.

you kissed between chores. kissed while brushing your teeth. kissed while folding laundry.

it wasn’t glamorous.

but it felt like home.

and when sunday night came, and he packed his bag again, you didn’t want him to go. not because of the sex, or the thrill, or the high of newness. but because somewhere between instant noodles and high school photos, you realized something terrifying and beautiful—

you were falling in love.

for real.

for the first time.

towards the end of the month, your phone rings. you’re in your apartment, folding laundry with the window cracked open to let in the soft breeze of early summer. the sunlight filters through sheer curtains, painting everything in golden hues. you glance at the caller id and feel a knot tighten in your stomach. mom.

you answer.

“it’s your father’s birthday this weekend,” she says, skipping greetings as always, her voice a mix of cheerful anticipation and subtle reprimand. “you should come visit. he’s been asking if we’ll see you.”

you agree, almost without thinking, but then comes the dreaded question.

“and? have you found a boyfriend yet or do i need to talk to mrs. lee again?”

you rub your temple. “mom—”

“her son is still single, you know. owns a good piece of land. sells vegetables to that big food corporation. you’d be set for life.”

you exhale deeply, eyes closing in frustration.

“i’m… i’m seeing someone.”

a pause. then her voice lights up like fireworks. “you are? oh, this is wonderful! finally, you’re not wasting away alone up there in that office job.”

“mom, we’ve just started seeing each other,” you say, hesitating. “it’s too soon to—”

“no,” she cuts in firmly. “you don’t have time to be unsure. the train is about to leave the station, sweetheart. you either get on or it’s gone. bring him. we want to meet him.”

before you can argue, the call ends with a clipped goodbye, and you’re left staring at your phone, pulse racing and chest tight.

the rest of the week, you feel like a ghost of yourself. distracted at work, distant on your dates with jaehyun, your mind spinning in loops. he notices immediately—of course he does—and it only takes one missed joke and a quiet dinner for him to call you out on it.

you’re sitting across from him, poking at your food. the restaurant is softly lit, cozy, but there’s a distance in your eyes.

“y/n,” he says, setting his chopsticks down. “what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you mutter, but he leans in.

“don’t give me that. we’re together now, remember? you can talk to me. or… if you’re second guessing this… if i’m moving too fast, just tell me. i can handle it.”

your heart aches at his words. you reach across the table, grabbing his hand.

“it’s not that. i’m not doubting us,” you say quietly. “it’s just… my mom called. she wants me to visit this weekend for my dad’s birthday. and she… kind of expects me to bring you.”

he blinks. then, without hesitation, he says, “okay. then i’ll come.”

you blink right back. “wait, seriously?”

“yes. if it means that much to them—and to you—I want to go. i want to meet your family, y/n. it feels right.”

your chest swells with something warm and terrifying. you nod, silently.

friday comes and your suitcase is zipped and ready by the door. you’re wearing a floral summer dress, light and breezy, with your favorite pair of nude heels that make your legs look longer than they are. your hair is pinned loosely, lip tint soft and rosy. there’s a nervous flutter in your chest when you step outside.

jaehyun is already waiting beside his car, leaning casually against it like he belongs in a photoshoot. he’s in cream linen pants and a sage green button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, collar open at the throat. his sunglasses reflect the afternoon sun, and he looks, frankly, too good to be standing in your quiet little street. you gulp.

“need help with those?” he says with a grin, reaching for your bags before you can answer.

the ride is filled with music, laughter, and long, thoughtful silences. the kind that don't feel awkward, but full. pregnant with meaning. he holds your hand on the highway, thumb stroking the back of it lazily, his warmth anchoring you through your nerves.

when you pull up to your parents' house—a modest home with stone finishings and a neat little front garden—your heart thunders. everything feels smaller, more fragile, like stepping back in time. your mom rushes out first, apron still tied around her waist, eyes wide and wet with excitement.

and when she sees jaehyun? she nearly cries. “you’re real,” she says, pressing her hands together like she’s witnessing a miracle. your dad comes out next, chuckling as he wipes his hands on a dish towel.

“so this is the young man,” he says with a knowing nod, clapping jaehyun on the back. “your mother hasn’t shut up about you since she found out.”

inside, the dining table is set with your dad’s favorite dishes. everything smells like memory. you sit in the living room afterward, your parents across from you, jaehyun beside you on the couch, close enough to feel his knee brushing yours.

he speaks up first, voice calm and clear.

“i just want to say that i’m very serious about your daughter,” he says. “i have genuine intentions. we’re still getting to know each other, but… if things keep going the way they are, i’d like to build a future with her.”

your mother gasps, reaching for a tissue. your father nods slowly, visibly moved.

“this… this is the best birthday gift i could ask for,” he says.

you shrink into the couch, cheeks burning, while jaehyun’s hand finds yours again and squeezes gently.

then comes the chaos.

your older brother, baekhyun, bursts through the door with his wife and two kids in tow. he takes one look at you and smirks.

“who’s the guy and what have you done with my perpetually single little sister?”

you groan. “shut up, baek.”

the two of you bicker like teenagers, tossing playful insults back and forth while your nephews cling to your legs, shouting your name with delight. you hand them the toys you brought and their eyes light up like it’s christmas.

jaehyun watches it all, amused, until one of the boys climbs into his lap and hands him a toy too.

he freezes.

and in that moment, something shifts in him. the sound of children’s laughter, the image of you with a soft smile, cradling one of your nephews in your arms. the warmth of this home, the love in every corner. he imagines it—having this with you. kids with your eyes. a house that’s yours. your framed wedding photo on the wall. vacations. birthdays. late-night talks in bed. wrinkles and silver hair, but still loving you with the same fire.

he blushes.

and you notice.

“what?” you whisper as you lean close.

he shakes his head, smiling to himself. “nothing. just… i really, really like this. all of it.”

the night unfolds gently. dinner turns into stories, stories into laughter, and soon the sun has long set and the house is lit with warm yellow lights. you and jaehyun sit outside for a moment, watching the stars.

he wraps an arm around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“you feel like home,” you whisper, not even realizing the words have slipped out.

he turns to look at you, eyes soft. “so do you.”

and in the quiet, with the cicadas singing and the echo of your family’s voices drifting from inside, you know.

this might just be the beginning of everything.

the month of july passed by with little to no complications. your parents were pleased with jaehyun, and you could tell that their approval meant the world to him. jungwoo, on the other hand, was playful and teasing, but with a newfound sense of respect, especially as jaehyun started to show more signs of being protective, making sure that jungwoo didn’t cross any boundaries. you were still professional with everyone at work, but the chemistry between you and jaehyun was undeniable. nights together were spent laughing, and weekends were filled with stolen moments of joy, where you both shared something more than just professional courtesy.

jaehyun had made a habit of calling you during the day, just to check on you, and you found yourself doing the same. the conversations were simple, but they felt important. visits to his office became more frequent, sometimes just for work, but other times, it was an excuse to sneak in a kiss or two. the passion between you two continued to build, a slow, steady fire that became increasingly hard to ignore.

one night, a wednesday, you both ignored the weather forecast and decided to take your date out in the city. the air was warm, and the lights of the city sparkled as you walked the streets together. the mood was light, but as midnight approached, the weather took a sharp turn. dark clouds rolled in, and soon, rain began to pour, turning into a violent storm. the wind howled, and the streets quickly flooded. jaehyun’s car struggled against the force of the water, and you couldn’t help but grip the seat, anxious.

jaehyun tried to keep calm, glancing at you with a reassuring smile. “it’s okay, nothing’s going to happen,” he said, though you could tell he was also feeling the weight of the storm.

the rain pounded against the windows, and the car barely moved as the currents began to grow stronger. after what felt like an eternity, you both agreed that waiting in the car wasn’t safe anymore. as you both discussed where to go, a motel appeared in front of you. it seemed like an odd choice, but the parking lot was dry, and there were few other options at that hour. both of you hesitated, unsure of what to do. it was a strange situation—neither of you wanted to suggest anything that could be misinterpreted.

jaehyun was the one to break the silence. “let’s just use the parking lot, at least we’ll have shelter from the rain,” he said. “and if it lasts all night, we’ll have a warm place to stay.”

you nodded, a little nervous. “yeah, i mean, we’re not going to do anything else, right? just sleep, then in the morning, we’ll head back to our places and go to work, right?”

jaehyun smiled at you, trying to ease your nerves. “of course, just a safe place to wait out the storm. no pressure.”

you both parked and got out of the car, a little stiff from the tension, but the moment you entered the motel, things started to feel different. jaehyun took the lead, making sure you were comfortable and settled in, giving you space to breathe. He didn’t rush you, always checking to see how you felt.

both of you were tired from the day, and the weather didn’t help the situation, so after some brief, awkward glances, you both decided to take separate showers to unwind. you both changed into something more comfortable, but since it was summer and it was warm, you decided to just sleep in your underwear. when you looked at jaehyun in his, the moment felt almost surreal. his gaze lingered for a moment before he quickly turned away, as if both of you were still trying to adjust to how close you had become.

“you know,” he said softly, his voice breaking the silence, “you don’t have to feel awkward. we’re taking things at our own pace.”

you smiled, feeling your heartbeat quicken at the sound of his voice. “what if i want to go faster?” you said, your words surprising even yourself.

jaehyun looks at you, eyes widening slightly before they darken with something deeper—something he’s clearly been holding back. “are you sure?” he asks, voice low, almost trembling with restraint.

you nod, stepping closer, your fingers brushing against his bare chest. “i’m sure.”

his hands find your waist gently at first, testing the waters, but when you lean into him, he pulls you in like he’s been waiting forever to hold you like this. his lips find yours in a kiss that starts soft, exploratory, but quickly deepens, hungry and needing. he walks you backwards slowly until the back of your knees hit the bed, and you fall onto it with a soft gasp, taking him with you.

his hands roam your body, reverent and slow, like he’s memorizing every inch of you. he whispers your name against your skin, trailing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, and lower still. your breath hitches when his mouth lingers between your thighs, his eyes meeting yours, waiting for any sign to stop—but you nod again, your fingers threading into his hair, guiding him closer.

what he gives you isn’t rushed. it’s worship. like he’s been dreaming of this moment for too long to waste it. you lose yourself in the rhythm of his mouth, the way he listens to your body, adjusting, teasing, giving. he doesn’t stop until your thighs are shaking and your voice is broken with moans you couldn’t hold back.

when he finally crawls back up your body, his lips kiss yours again, slower this time, tasting you. he whispers, “still okay?” and you nod, pulling him closer.

when he slides into you, it’s not hurried or careless. it’s deep, slow, and overwhelming in the best way. you cling to him, breathless, as your bodies move together like they were made to. he holds your gaze, foreheads pressed together, sweat-damp skin sticking in the summer heat, but neither of you care.

you whisper his name like a prayer, and he answers with yours, over and over, like he’s trying to brand it into the moment.

you fall apart in his arms, not once, but twice, and he follows soon after, burying his face in your neck as he trembles against you. 

his lips are still on yours when he pushes deeper inside you, and this time, there’s no hesitation. your body arches under him, the stretch of him delicious and overwhelming all at once. he fills you slowly, inch by inch, like he wants to feel every reaction he pulls from you.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he breathes out, forehead resting against yours. “been thinking about this for so long.”

you moan softly, nails dragging down his back as he starts to move, slow at first, rolling his hips into you with precision that makes your legs tremble. he kisses down your throat, biting softly at your skin as he picks up the pace, each thrust hitting deeper, harder. the headboard taps gently against the wall, a quiet rhythm that matches the sound of your breathy moans and his soft, low groans.

your fingers clutch the sheets, the pleasure building with every thrust. jaehyun’s hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider for him, and the new angle has you gasping his name, your voice breaking. he doesn’t stop—he can’t stop—lost in the feel of you, the sounds you make, the way your body clings to his like it’s the only place it belongs.

he pulls out just enough to see the way you take him, watching your slick coat his length before sliding back in with a filthy, wet sound that makes your toes curl. “look at you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing your lower lip, eyes locked on yours. “so fucking beautiful like this.”

when he shifts, propping one of your legs over his shoulder, the angle has you crying out, your whole body shuddering. “you’re so deep,” you whimper, and he groans, hips snapping faster, harder, chasing both your highs like a man starved.

your climax hits hard—white-hot and blinding—as your walls clamp down around him, dragging him over the edge with you. he cums with a strangled moan, burying himself to the hilt, his hips stuttering as he spills into you. he stays there, chest pressed to yours, breathing heavy, hearts pounding in sync.

after a few moments, he pulls out slowly, carefully, kissing your shoulder as he lies beside you and pulls you into his arms.

your body’s still trembling when he runs a hand down your spine, voice low and thick with affection. “think we’re still just sleeping?”

you laugh softly against his chest, lazy fingers tracing circles on his skin. “not a chance.”

he kisses the top of your head. “then let’s not sleep yet.”

and before you can even respond, he’s already kissing down your body again—because one round clearly wasn’t enough.

you barely have time to catch your breath before jaehyun’s mouth is back on your skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your chest, between your breasts, over your stomach. his hands roam your thighs with greedy fingers, and even though you’re still sensitive, your body responds instantly—needy, aching, already ready for him again.

“you’re still so wet,” he murmurs, spreading you open with his fingers, dragging two of them slowly through your folds. “fuck, baby… you’re dripping.”

your hips jerk when he circles your clit, light and teasing, and you whine, fingers gripping the sheets. “j-jaehyun…”

he smirks, dark eyes meeting yours as he sinks his fingers into you—slow, deep, curling just right. “you can take it, can’t you?” he says, voice thick with lust. “you want it again.”

you nod helplessly, mouth parted as your back arches off the bed. he fucks you with his fingers until you’re trembling again, begging for him, grinding down onto his hand like you can’t get enough—and you can’t.

when he pulls his fingers out and lines himself up again, there’s no patience this time. he pushes in all at once, rougher, deeper, making your breath catch in your throat. the stretch, the pressure, the heat—it’s almost too much, but you crave every second of it.

he fucks you like he owns you now, one hand on your hip, the other pressing down on your stomach so he can feel himself inside you. “you feel that?” he groans. “you’re taking all of me.”

your moans turn shameless, high-pitched and raw, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the room with every thrust. the bed creaks, the headboard pounds against the wall, and you don’t care who hears. he flips you onto your stomach without warning, pulling your hips up, and slides back into you from behind.

you cry out at the new angle, your hands clawing at the sheets as he drives into you, deeper than before. “god—jaehyun, i’m gonna—”

“cum for me,” he growls, grabbing your hair and pulling your head back to kiss the side of your neck. “cum all over my cock, baby.”

your orgasm hits like a shockwave, blinding and hot and overwhelming. your whole body shakes, legs giving out beneath you as he keeps fucking you through it. he follows moments later, groaning your name as he fills you again, hips jerking against your ass, the sound of it all so filthy and perfect.

this time, when you collapse together on the bed, everything is soaked in sweat and heat and the scent of sex. your body is limp, your mind dazed, and he just pulls you close, wrapping you in his arms like he’s never letting go.

“okay,” you whisper, laughing breathlessly. “now we might need to sleep.”

he chuckles against your hair, voice rough. “maybe. after round three.”

that night at the motel changed everything.

it wasn’t just the sex—though, god, it was incredible. it was the way his hands learned your body like a second language, the way he whispered your name like a secret, the way you both let yourselves fall without fear. that night was messy, breathless, and soaked in want. but more than anything, it was a turning point—a quiet, unspoken agreement that this was no longer just something casual. not for either of you.

after that, the line between love and lust blurred beautifully. sex became part of your rhythm, part of how you communicated. stolen glances in the office turned into stolen kisses in the elevator. late nights became sleepovers, and every morning-after was filled with lazy touches and knowing smiles. you memorized each other’s moans like favorite songs, found new ways to say i want you, even when the words themselves weren’t spoken.

but there was one night that stood out. the one you still think about more than any other.

it was the night you stayed over at his apartment—just the two of you, no distractions, no storms outside, only the slow burn between your bodies. dinner turned into kisses. kisses turned into the first round on his kitchen counter, then the second in the shower, steam fogging up the mirror as your bodies tangled and slipped together like water and flame.

by the third round, it was past midnight. you were already sore, breathless, but insatiable. he pulled you back into bed, whispering things in your ear that made your skin burn. he was rougher that time—hungrier—gripping your hips as he fucked you deep and slow, drawing out every moan until your voice was hoarse and your mind was gone.

you were on top, riding him with lazy, desperate rhythm, your head thrown back, your nails digging into his chest. he looked up at you like you were something divine, his hands guiding your pace, eyes locked on the place where your bodies met.

and just when your orgasm started to hit—when everything went hot and tight and unbearably good—the words slipped out of you.

“i love you.”

your voice cracked around it, high and trembling, your body still grinding against his, your climax crashing over you like a wave. for a split second, everything stopped. you felt him freeze beneath you, heard the sharp intake of breath, saw the shock in his eyes.

you hadn’t meant to say it like that. not in the middle of fucking. not when you were bare in every sense of the word.

it was reckless. vulnerable. raw.

but not wrong.

his hands gripped your waist tighter, and then he was sitting up, arms wrapping around you, thrusting up into you so hard and deep that you sobbed out his name.

“i love you too,” he groaned against your neck. “fuck, i love you so much—too much.”

and then he came—hard and fast, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

afterward, you just lay there on top of him, chest to chest, skin to skin, hearts pounding in unison. there was no awkwardness. no regret. only this strange, beautiful calm that settled over the room like dawn.

it was in that moment you realized just how deep your feelings for him ran.

what had started as a simple plan—just something to avoid growing old alone—had become the best part of your life. somewhere along the way, between the office visits and shared glances, motel rooms and quiet mornings, you had fallen hopelessly, madly in love with jaehyun.

and the craziest part?

you couldn’t imagine ever thinking of anything—or anyone—else but him.

august wrapped around you like a golden ribbon, thick with heat and filled with the kind of breathless anticipation that only comes after months of hard work. the project was done—finally—after weeks of stress, endless reports, last-minute corrections and late nights. but it was done. and not just done, but successful. glowing feedback, client satisfaction, numbers that sang. it was more than you had dared to hope for.

and then—the email.

subject line: promotion confirmation.

you stared at it for a full minute before opening it. and when you read the words “congratulations, supervisor,” your breath hitched. you covered your mouth. you gasped. and then you ran.

jaehyun wasn’t even at his desk anymore, he was just walking into the hallway when you caught him. “jaehyun!” you called, your voice trembling with a kind of joy that had nowhere to go.

he turned, concerned for half a second—until he saw your face. and then you said it.

“i got it.”

“you got what?” he blinked, confused.

“the promotion.”

his eyes widened. he froze for a second. and then—his arms were around you before you could even finish breathing. he lifted you, spinning you once, twice, both of you laughing as you clutched his shoulders and buried your face in his neck.

“oh my god, baby—you did it! i knew it, i knew you would!”

you were dizzy, and not just from the spinning. he kissed your cheek, your temple, your lips. everything was warm and golden and right.

he took you out that night.

you didn’t go anywhere fancy—jaehyun insisted that celebrations should be personal, not performative. so he drove you to that one little pizzeria you loved, the one that made the potato crust just the way you liked it. he ordered your usual without asking, and when the wine came, he raised his glass first.

“to you,” he said, his eyes soft and gleaming under the low light. “my brilliant, unstoppable, incredible woman.”

your heart swelled so fast it almost ached. the clink of your glasses felt like the sound of a new chapter opening.

“i’ve never had this before,” you confessed, fingers curling around the stem of your glass. “celebrating something this big. with someone i love. it feels…” you laughed, shy and overwhelmed. “it feels like everything’s different now.”

jaehyun reached for your hand, his thumb stroking the back of it slowly.

“it is different,” he said. “because now, every good thing that happens to you—we get to celebrate it. together.”

you stared at him, your chest tight with emotion, with the kind of love that had no bottom, no edge. just more.

you leaned across the table, kissing him slow, deep, grateful. pizza between you, wine in your veins, your laughter echoing off the walls of that tiny booth.

you didn’t need fireworks.

this was better.

this was yours.

mid-september arrived with a softness that clung to the air—warm enough to feel like summer still lingered, but mellowed by the early hints of fall. the leaves hadn’t turned yet, but something in the wind carried change. maybe that’s what had been stirring inside you all week—a restless certainty that had taken root in your chest and bloomed with every kiss, every sleepy morning wrapped around each other, every whispered i love you that escaped your lips without hesitation. it had been five months, five months of chaos and clarity, of fire and softness, and you knew now—you didn’t want to wait anymore.

you wanted jaehyun. not in a month. not after careful plans. now.

so you climbed the steps to his office, heart thudding like a war drum, nerves tangled with determination. you paused outside the door, breathed once, twice, and knocked.

“come in,” his voice called, muffled behind the heavy door.

you stepped in and found him at his desk, back slightly hunched, focused on the glow of his screen. he looked up, and the moment he saw you, he smiled—that slow, dazzling smile that always made your knees feel like melted wax—and stood immediately, walking toward you without hesitation. he cupped your face, leaned in, and kissed you like he’d been waiting to do it all day.

“jaehyun,” you said, voice almost trembling, more from the gravity of what you were about to say than nerves. he pulled back slightly, tilting his head.

“yeah?”

you met his eyes and, without giving yourself the chance to second-guess it, you let it fall from your lips.

“i want to marry you.”

his lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across his features. he blinked, as if trying to be sure he heard you right.

“i know, baby,” he said, a soft chuckle lacing his words. “that was the whole deal, right? but remember—we said after november. we’d have more time to plan, get everything ready—”

“no,” you interrupted, stepping forward, clutching his hands tightly. “i don’t want to wait till november. i mean it. i want to marry you now. today, tomorrow, next week—i don’t care when or how. i just want to be yours. forever.”

he stared at you, quiet. processing. his brows drew together, and then lifted again like the meaning had just landed fully. his hands gripped yours tighter.

“but—what about the wedding? your parents, mine—”

“we’ll figure it out,” you whispered. “but this... this love we have, i don’t want to keep treating it like something that needs to be scheduled. it’s real. it’s now.”

he took a breath, deep and full. and then, his expression softened into something vulnerable and glowing—his eyes shone with something deeper than just affection. he leaned his forehead against yours and whispered, “you want to be my wife.”

you nodded, lips brushing his as you breathed, “more than anything.”

his thumbs brushed over your cheeks, as if committing this moment to memory. “then we’ll do it. not because it’s rushed, but because we know. we’ve known. and if you want to be my wife now... then i’ll make it happen. we’ll get married. i promise.”

and he kissed you again, this time slower, as if sealing an oath between your mouths.

the proposal happened three days later.

he told you it was just a normal date—dinner, then a walk somewhere scenic. no pressure. he even played it off by wearing something casual: a white linen shirt, sleeves rolled, soft beige slacks, and the cleanest pair of loafers you’d ever seen. he looked devastatingly handsome without trying.

he picked you up and drove toward the edge of the city, toward the river trail where the summer festivals were usually held. the area was quiet now, early autumn having driven the crowds away. but fairy lights still dangled from the trees, twinkling faintly as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting a warm, honeyed hue over everything.

he walked with you along the wooden path, your fingers tangled. his hand was slightly clammy. you noticed, and your heart fluttered, thinking—he’s nervous. the realization made you giddy.

and then, just as you reached the little bridge that overlooked the water, he stopped.

“wait here,” he said softly, squeezing your hand. “don’t move.”

he jogged a few steps ahead, ducked behind a low fence near a cluster of trees, and returned with a bouquet of peonies—your favorite. you hadn’t told him that. he remembered.

your eyes began to water.

he handed them to you, smiling shyly, and then pulled something out of his pocket.

a velvet box.

he opened it without a speech, without fanfare. his voice was soft, his eyes locked on yours like the world outside didn’t exist.

“you already said yes,” he whispered. “but i want to do this right.”

he got down on one knee, the gravel crunching beneath him, and held the ring up.

“y/n, will you marry me—not next month, not in theory, not in some future we’re still trying to picture... but now. for real. because i’m yours. and you’re mine.”

you didn’t cry. you sobbed. like an idiot. like a girl who had waited her whole life for someone like him. you nodded so fast your vision blurred and fell into his arms, and he kissed you like he was promising you the rest of forever.

in that moment, september never felt sweeter.

telling the company was a whole thing.

it started with a scheduled meeting—a weekly operations check-in with the usual suspects: team leads, upper management, the supervisor, and a couple of sharp-eyed executives who never missed a detail. it was jaehyun’s idea to make it official at work, to do it clean and direct and proudly. no rumors. no hiding. just the truth, glowing and solid like the ring that now lived permanently on your finger.

you both walked into the meeting room together, which wasn’t unusual, but something in the way your hands brushed as you took your seat already had jungwoo giving you the side-eye.

the presentation started, charts and projections lighting up the screen behind jaehyun as he stood with calm confidence. it was business as usual—until the last slide.

"before we wrap up," he said, glancing back at the room, his eyes finding yours briefly before turning to the group again, "i have one personal announcement to make."

you swallowed. jungwoo leaned forward like a damn hawk. mr. choi narrowed his eyes suspiciously, as if he'd been waiting for this moment since spring.

jaehyun smiled—soft, boyish, unbothered. “as some of you may know… or have guessed," he said, and gave jungwoo a teasing look that made him gasp, "i knew it," he muttered dramatically—"y/n and i have been seeing each other for a while.”

the room exploded. a gasp from the secretary and the supervisor actually choked on his coffee. someone in the back whispered “what the fuck” under their breath.

jaehyun held up a hand, a little smug, a little amused.

“and, as of last weekend… we’re engaged.”

your cheeks were burning. your heart thundered. you expected chaos, maybe disapproval, but what followed was—

cheering. clapping. wide eyes and stunned smiles. even mr. choi looked like he was trying very hard not to grin.

“you’re marrying jaehyun? our jaehyun?” he blinked at her, then looked at jaehyun like he’d just discovered a double life. “okay, i knew something was going on. i’m not blind. but marriage? dude, that’s insane. like, insane in the good way, but—holy shit.”

you stood up, feeling brave. “we just didn’t want to hide it anymore,” you said. “we’re really happy. and we hope you’ll be happy for us too.”

the room burst into applause again. someone shouted, “wedding invites or we riot!”

the parents came next.

you visited your family first. your mom opened the door and immediately noticed the ring. she gasped, dropped the dish towel she was holding, and squealed in that way only mothers can. within seconds, your dad was there too, grinning, eyes glossy, holding jaehyun’s shoulder like he was already part of the family.

"are you kidding me," your mom kept saying. "you're engaged? oh my god, you're engaged!"

you nodded, trying not to cry as she hugged you so tight it hurt.

“he’s everything i ever wanted for you,” your dad told you quietly, before giving jaehyun a very serious handshake. “you take care of her.”

“always,” jaehyun promised, voice thick with sincerity.

then it was his parents' turn.

you were more nervous, but you shouldn’t have been. the moment jaehyun’s mom saw you, she pulled you into a hug, muttering in korean how beautiful you were, how she’d been praying her son would be smart enough to not let you go. his dad was more reserved, but the sparkle in his eye said everything. when jaehyun said, “we’re getting married,” his mother clapped her hands and screamed like she’d just won the lottery.

“we’re so happy,” she said, eyes shining. “you are already family.”

they brought out food, wine, photos from jaehyun’s childhood. his mom made you take home a tupperware of kimchi and a crocheted doily she claimed she made for whoever he married one day. she said she just had a feeling it was going to be you, and jaehyun turned red.

it turned out that weddings—real weddings—took a lot more time to plan than y/n had expected. even with jaehyun’s calming presence and the help of a surprisingly competent wedding planner, the months passed like petals falling from a tree: softly, quickly, too beautifully to hold onto.

they settled on march 28. it gave them just enough time to breathe, to build, to dream together.

from the moment they told everyone—first their friends, then their families, and finally, in a hilariously formal email, the entire company—the whirlwind began. the announcement caused a stir so loud in the office that y/n had to leave her desk just to get some peace.

the directivos were equally shocked, though mostly amused. her supervisor just nodded sagely, like he’d been betting on this since the beginning.

“you two were always ‘too in sync’,” he said, raising his coffee mug in mock toast. “i give it six months before one of you becomes the other's boss at home too.”

and then came the parents.

jaehyun’s mother cried when she met y/n, tears slipping down her cheeks as she hugged her tight and whispered in korean, “you’re even more beautiful than he said. and i knew he was in love the first time he said your name.”

her own parents, after recovering from the initial shock, became obsessively involved in the planning, sending flower samples, playlist suggestions, and opinions on wedding favors at all hours of the day. but none of it was overwhelming. not with jaehyun there, always pulling her back into calm. always making sure this was their wedding, not anyone else’s.

they chose a venue outside the city—a small vineyard with soft hills, blooming wisteria, and golden light that melted everything it touched. march 28 arrived with the scent of earth and lilac, a warm wind, and the sky so blue it almost hurt to look at.

y/n stood before a mirror in a white gown that made her feel like everything good in the world had been sewn together just for her. she could hear the quiet rustle of guests arriving, the soft music playing in the distance, the laughter of children running between the rows of flowers.

and then, jaehyun.

when she saw him waiting at the altar, dressed in a suit that fit like second skin, with his hair slightly tousled and a look in his eyes that could undo galaxies—she forgot how to breathe.

he mouthed “you’re perfect” as she walked down the aisle.

she mouthed “you’re mine.”

the ceremony was intimate, emotional, wrapped in vows that made everyone cry—even jungwoo, who tried to play it off by pretending he had allergies.

“i promise to protect your dreams as fiercely as my own,” jaehyun said, voice trembling slightly, “and to always make sure your pizza has the right amount of potato crust, even when we’re eighty.”

“i promise to choose you, even on the days we forget how lucky we are,” y/n replied, tears in her eyes. “and to never let the fire between us die, even when we’re old and gray.”

they kissed.

and the world felt new again.

their first dance was under strings of fairy lights, barefoot on the grass. the song was soft, a slow jazz tune that jaehyun had played for her once in the car when she’d been crying. now, with her head against his chest, they swayed like the wind had been made just for them.

“we did it,” she whispered.

“we did,” he said. “and i’d marry you again tomorrow if i could.”

the honeymoon came a few days later. they chose santorini, greece, not for the postcard beauty or luxury, but because y/n had once told him, offhandedly, that she always dreamed of watching the sun melt into the sea from a white rooftop. he remembered.

their suite was perched on a cliff, overlooking the caldera, with white walls and blue domes and windows that opened to eternity. the first night, they sat on the balcony with a bottle of wine, their feet touching, their hands always searching for each other.

they kissed under sunsets and made love under stars. they danced in narrow streets, shared kisses between sips of ouzo, fed each other olives and sweet baklava. they were ridiculous. and in love. and utterly themselves.

“this is the life i want,” y/n whispered one night, tangled in cotton sheets, her cheek against his chest.

“then it’s the life we’ll have,” jaehyun said. “forever.”

and this time, forever didn’t sound like a fairytale.

it sounded like a promise.

three years passed like chapters in a love letter—written slowly, lived fully.

you and jaehyun made a home out of a sleek little apartment tucked into the rhythm of the city. it was all black wood and soft gray, velvet cushions and open windows where sunlight poured in like gold. it wasn’t big, but it held your whole world. your toothbrushes leaned against each other. your shoes tangled by the door. your laughter lived in the walls.

mornings were sleepy and soft—coffee mugs clinking, your legs wrapped around his under the kitchen table, newspaper pages ignored in favor of each other’s eyes. nights were even softer—blankets twisted around you, movie soundtracks playing in the background while your fingers danced across his skin. the kind of love that didn’t need grand gestures—just the warmth of his palm on your thigh and the way he said “come here” like home itself.

but then, one evening, the quiet changed.

you were in the bathroom. pacing. heart in your throat. your phone timer ticked like thunder in the silence. the test rested on the sink, small and still—like it held the weight of the universe. you sat on the edge of the tub, knees pulled up, trying to breathe.

when the timer stopped, you moved like you were underwater. slow. hesitant. scared.

two pink lines.

you stared. blinked. stared again.

your lips parted, the shape of a whisper you couldn’t form. your hands trembled, and for a moment, the whole world tilted—just you and that tiny piece of plastic and everything it now meant.

you stepped out of the bathroom, barefoot, holding the test like it might shatter.

jaehyun was on the couch, lounging with his phone, one leg bent lazily, hair tousled from running his hand through it too many times. he looked up. paused. frowned softly. “baby… what is it?”

you didn’t answer right away. just walked toward him—slow, like the floor might disappear—and placed the test in his hand.

“we’re gonna be parents!!”

the silence cracked. and then—

jaehyun surged forward, arms wrapping around you so tight you gasped. he lifted you off the ground, spinning you around the living room like a kid on christmas morning, laughter bursting from his chest, from yours, from some place deep inside where all the hope had been hiding.

you were both crying. laughing. kissing. saying “we did it!” over and over again like a prayer you never thought you’d get to say out loud. he pressed his forehead to yours, voice shaking, “we’re having a baby.”

“we’re having our baby,” you whispered.

months passed like petals falling from a blooming tree.

you were glowing. exhausted, but glowing.

your blush-pink maternity dress clung gently to your growing belly, printed with tiny white florals that made jaehyun smile every time he saw you in it. your feet were bare, your ankles swollen, your back ached constantly—but he was always there, hands rubbing your spine, lips on your shoulder, whispering, “you’re magic, you know that?”

the nursery was nearly finished—lavender walls painted with care, gold stars twinkling on the ceiling, and a soft mobile that played lullabies like stardust. the crib waited, delicate and perfect, with a plush bunny nestled in the corner.

jaehyun was kneeling by the dresser, sweat on his brow, tongue between his teeth as he finished the final drawer. he looked up, eyes finding you immediately, and god—he looked at you like the whole sky lived inside your smile.

“she’s gonna love this room,” he said, standing to press a hand to your belly. his palm warm. grounding. full of quiet awe. “our little moon.”

you leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “i hope she gets your eyes,” you whispered.

he smiled, eyes soft with wonder. “and your heart,” he murmured. “especially your heart.”

the room went quiet again—except for the soft hum of the mobile spinning slowly above the crib. gold stars turned, catching the light.

and in that moment, just one suspended, breathless moment, everything was still.

you. him. her.

and the love that built it all.

finally. completely.

beautifully yours.

[cheftsunoda]

reckless — ln4, op81

smau/real life

lando norris x !ex singer reader

oscar piastri x !singer reader

y/n and lando had been inseparable since they were nineteen, building a life together through the highs and lows. but lately, something felt off. as lando grew distant, yn’s suspicions quietly grew—until the truth unraveled…he’d been cheating with magui. instead of confronting him, yn poured her heartbreak into a song—one that ended their relationship for the world to hear. in the aftermath, she found comfort where she least expected it… in the arms of lando’s own teammate.

fc : stassie karanikolaou and various pinterest gals

special request from my love @cmgmikealson 🧡

i am legit posting heal your heart right as we speak so part 4 is posted if you’re looking for it

—

yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, carlossainz55, mclaren & 1,294,389 others.

yourusername : life’s been pretty good to me lately<3

—

username00 : so pretty love

username7 : no lando like?

username15 : he usually is first comment 🤨

username5 : im so confused where is her man

username8 : guys he is in the dump relax

alexandrasaintmleux : god you are so beautiful

liked by yourusername

yourusername : come smooch on me pretty

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

charles_leclerc : what did I walk into?

alexandrasaintmleux: look away cha

liked by yourusername

carlossainz55 : Miss you yn!

liked by yourusername

yourusername : miss you carlitos! golf with papà soon?

liked by carlossainz55 and carlossainzoficial

carlossainzoficial : Sí!

liked by yourusername and carlossainz55

kikagomes : my stunning girl

liked by yourusername

yourusername : love you to the moon and back

username10 : where tf is lando?

—

‘This chapter's about

How you said there was nobody else

Then you got up and went to her house

You guys always left me out’

—

He grabs his keys from the counter, barely glancing in my direction.

“I’ll be back later,” Lando says, voice flat.

“Where are you going?” I ask, keeping my tone light—casual, like I don’t already feel the distance growing between us.

He shrugs. “Just out.”

No name. No place. No explanation.

I nod, pretending not to care. “Okay. Be safe.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and silence floods the room. I sit there, staring at the space he just walked out of. My chest feels heavier than it should. I could’ve asked again, pressed for an answer—but what would that change? I already know the truth, even if I’m too scared to say it out loud. Something’s wrong. I feel it in the way he doesn’t look at me the same. In how he only kisses me when he thinks I’m not paying attention to the way his mind is somewhere else. Maybe I don’t argue because deep down… I’m tired of fighting for someone who’s already gone.

—

f1gossipgirls

457,296 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Rumors have been swirling for weeks about F1 driver Lando Norris and model/influencer Magui Corceiro, and it looks like things just heated up. The two were seen leaving Magui’s apartment early Tuesday morning, looking very cozy—and definitely not like just friends. Sources say Y/N, Lando’s longtime girlfriend, was not around at the time. The pair kept it low-key, both wearing sunglasses and casual fits, but witnesses couldn’t help but notice the chemistry (and the fact that lando was spotted there overnight).

—

username00 : yn deserved so much better. she gave that man years of loyalty and he gave her betrayal in return. i hope she writes a whole album about this.

username10 : lando leaving his apartment with Magui like we wouldn’t notice?? men have no shame.

username22 : you mean to tell me lando threw away 5 years with yn (the most stunning person on the planet) for felix’ sloppy seconds?

username30 : yn’s silence speaks louder than words.

usernameeee : lando FUMBLED.

—

‘When you told me that I was the only girl

You'd ever want in your life’

The post sits on my phone screen, still open. Lando and Magui, walking out of our apartment like it was theirs. Like I didn’t exist. When I hear the front door open, I don’t move. Just stare at the screen until it turns black. I lock it and set it face down.

Lando walks in, running a hand through his hair like he’s exhausted. “Hey, I’m back,” he says softly.

I look up, trying to sound casual. “Were you with Magui?”

He pauses in the middle of the room. Not long, but long enough.

Then he walks over slowly, kneels in front of me, and rests his hands gently on my knees. “Yeah,” he says, voice calm. “She needed someone to talk to. She was going through something, and I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“There are pictures,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he murmurs. “They look worse than it was. I swear, Y/N. Nothing’s going on with her. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

His eyes search mine like he’s begging me to believe him. He squeezes my hands. “You’re the only one I want. You always have been.”

I nod slowly, swallowing the knot in my throat. “Okay.”

He leans in and kisses my forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I whisper back.

But I still don’t believe him.

Because love shouldn’t come with this much doubt.

And the part of me that used to feel safe with him… doesn’t anymore.

—

‘Each day goes by and each night, I cry

Somebody saw you with her last night

You gave me your word, "Don't worry 'bout her’

The room is quiet except for the occasional sniffle I try to stifle into my pillow. The sheets are pulled up to my chin, but they don’t feel warm—just heavy. Like everything else. My phone is beside me, screen dimmed, waiting for a notification that won’t come. No apology. No explanation. Just silence. I open my Notes app instead, the cursor blinking back at me like it knows what’s coming. I start typing, barely able to see through the blur in my eyes. The words hurt. But they feel true. They feel like mine. I let out a shaky breath, backlit by the soft glow of the screen, when a buzz cuts through the stillness.

Max Fewtrell :

Hey. I know Lando is my best friend but what he is doing to you is so wrong, yn. You’ve been loyal to him for so long. I saw him out with magui again. I wanted you to know. I’m so sorry.

My heart drops. Max never texts me like this. Not unless it’s something important. Not unless he feels like I deserve to know. I stare at the message, my fingers trembling. He lied. Looked me in the eye and told me she just “stopped by.”

I feel something crack quietly inside me—not loud or explosive, just the kind of break you can’t come back from.

—

‘How could you be so reckless with my heart?’

I lie in bed for a while, Max’s message burning a hole in my chest. I keep hoping—praying—there’s a reasonable explanation. That I’m overthinking. That he’s telling the truth. But something inside me shifts. That quiet voice that’s been whispering doubts for weeks gets louder. I can’t ignore it anymore. So I get up. I move through the apartment on autopilot, careful not to make a sound, like I’m trespassing in a home that used to feel like mine. Lando’s bag is by the door, half-zipped, carelessly tossed like everything else in this relationship lately. I kneel beside it, heart pounding. I don’t want to be this person. I never wanted to look. But he made me. Inside, I find his phone charger, his sunglasses… and then a second phone. One I’ve never seen before. It’s not locked. My hands are cold as I scroll through the texts. Her name is right there—Magui—bold and glowing like a warning.

“Miss you already.”

“Last night was everything.”

“Don’t forget your hoodie. I kept it.”

Photo attachments. Her in our kitchen. Her in his hoodie. The same one he wore when he left that day. The same one I folded and left out for him the night before. My breath catches. I can’t cry. Not right now. My body won’t let me. I set the phone down on the counter and stare at it, like it’s some kind of weapon. Because it is. Proof of betrayal. Of everything he swore wasn’t happening.

And suddenly, I’m not heartbroken.

I’m done.

—

‘You check in and out

Of my heart like a hotel

And she must be perfect, oh well

I hope you both go to hell’

I don’t rush.

There’s a strange calm that settles over me as I fold my clothes, one by one, placing them carefully into the suitcase I bought on our first trip together. I don’t slam drawers or throw things. I just… let go.

Piece by piece.

Everything that once felt like home now feels like evidence. The framed photo of us at Silverstone. The hoodie he gave me when I first stayed over. The mug with my initial that he always filled before his morning races.

I don’t take them.

He can have the memories.

I zip the suitcase slowly and glance around the apartment one last time. It looks the same. But everything’s changed.

On the counter, I leave the second phone. Unlocked. Open to the last message from Magui.

And next to it, I place a folded piece of paper.

‘i trusted you. i loved you. she must be perfect, oh well. i hope you both go to hell.’

—

‘Hey, this is a story I hate

But I told it to cope with the pain

I'm so sorry if you can relate’

yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri & 4,379,275 others.

yourusername : i got cheated on so alex got me this shirt, we went to ibiza to party and i released my new single reckless out now 🗣️

—

username00 : alex is the best ever

username10 : this is so iconic. the shirt. the cig in ibiza. im in tears.

alexandrasaintmleux : i love love love you- the trip was so fun

liked by yn_ln

charles_leclerc : Glad you girls had fun! Hope you’re feeling better, yn:)

liked by yn_ln and alexandrasaintmleux

yn_ln : thanks for letting us borrow the jet Charlie;)

liked by charles_leclerc

kikagomes : so iconic FUCK HIM

liked yn_ln

oscarpiastri : Glad you’re healing, YN. He did you wrong.

liked by yn_ln

kikagomes : or fuck his teammate??

liked by yn_ln & oscarpiastri

username17 : OH MY GOD

carlossainz55 : glad to be your tour guide :)

liked by yn_ln

yn_ln : 10/10 would recommend

username000 : oh so she won everyone in the breakup

—

36 missed calls from Lando

115 messages from Lando

—

The Monaco streets are quiet this early—just the soft hum of waves below and the rhythmic slap of my sneakers against the pavement. The city’s waking up, but I’ve been up for hours. Running clears my head in ways sleep can’t lately. I round the corner near Port Hercule, pulling my hoodie tighter around me as the breeze cuts through. Just as I hit the incline by the marina, a familiar figure jogs past in the opposite direction—then slows down and doubles back.

“Yn?”

I pause, pulling out one earbud. “Oscar?”

He jogs up, slightly out of breath, curls damp with sweat, that easy smile tugging at his lips. “Didn’t know you were back.”

“Yeah,” I say, trying to steady both my breathing and the sudden flutter in my chest. “Just got in a few days ago.”

He nods, studying me for a beat. “You alright?”

I give a tired smile. “Getting there.”

He doesn’t push. Just offers a quiet, steady presence, the kind I didn’t know I needed until now.

“I was gonna grab a coffee and walk the market after this,” he says, shifting his weight slightly. “You feel like company?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is this a pity invite?”

He grins. “Only if you say no. Then it’ll definitely be pity.”

I laugh—really laugh—for the first time in days. The air feels lighter somehow.

“Alright,” I say. “But I’m picking the playlist next time we run into each other.”

He falls in step beside me. “Deal.”

—

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, kikagomes, carlossainz55 & 2,278,245 others.

yourusername : never been happier <3

—

username00 : new man??! bets??

username10 : better not see any “you moved on quick” comments because he moved on while they were still together

username5 : what if it’s Oscar???

kikagomes : you’re so cute omggg ily

liked by yn_ln

alexandrasaintmleux : my angel deserves to be happy 🦋

liked by yn_ln

—

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc & 1,238,255 others.

oscarpiastri : Been pretty productive lately.

—

username00 : mans is soft launching and is so nonchalant

carlossainz55 : Hell of a season for you so far amigo!

liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri : My good luck charm definitely helps

liked by carlossainz55

username10 : call me delulu but that’s def yn

hattiepiastri : who? what? when?

oscarpiastri : you could’ve just texted bro

hattiepiastri : you never answer your texts

nicolepiastri : or calls

—

The Monaco sun hits hard, even in the morning, but the buzz of the paddock is electric as always—cameras flashing, engines humming in the background, and whispers floating like static. This time, though, it’s not the usual chaos that turns heads.

It’s me.

Walking beside Oscar.

I’m wearing sunglasses, a soft black cap pulled low, and an oversized McLaren hoodie. Not just any hoodie—his hoodie. The number 81 stitched on the sleeve in that unmistakable papaya orange.

Oscar doesn’t say anything when the photographers start snapping. Just glances sideways at me with a small, knowing smile like he expected this.

I shrug. “It was the most comfortable one I had.”

“Sure it was,” he says, gently bumping my shoulder with his.

We pass a few crew members. They nod politely—but their eyes dip to my sleeve.

The whispers start instantly.

“That’s Piastri’s number, isn’t it?”

“Since when are they a thing?”

“I thought she was with—”

“Not anymore.”

Somewhere across the paddock, I catch a glimpse of Lando.

He’s mid-conversation but freezes for a split second when he sees us. His eyes drop to the hoodie, and I don’t miss the way his jaw tightens.

I don’t look away.

Oscar doesn’t either.

He simply says, “You ready?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

He grips tightly onto my hand as we walk through.

—

The podium celebration is chaos—in the best way. Champagne rains down like glitter, the crowd is deafening, and Oscar’s smile is wider than she’s ever seen it. There’s a light in his eyes that wasn’t there a few weeks ago. A quiet, humble pride. He climbs down from the stage, face flushed with adrenaline and joy, and immediately scans the crowd.

And then he sees me. Standing just behind the McLaren garage barrier, still wearing his hoodie, tears in my eyes and the biggest grin on my face.

He doesn’t hesitate.

He pushes through the crowd—crew members cheering, pats on the back, cameras chasing him—and walks straight to me.

“You did it,” i breathe, eyes shining.

“I told you I would,” he says softly, almost in disbelief.

And before either of us can talk ourselves out of it, he leans in and kisses me.

Not rushed. Not messy. Just sure.

The kind of kiss that says finally.

Around us, everything blurs. Reporters stop mid-sentence. Phones come up. Paparazzi lenses refocus. Someone gasps—someone else screams.

It’s official. Public. Real.

When we pull apart, Oscar rests his forehead against mine.

“I wanted to do that for a while.”

I laughed, still a little breathless. “Figured. You did win, after all.”

“Yeah,” he grins. “But I think you’re still my favorite part of today.”

—

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc & 10,279,255 others.

yourusername : finally got a man who can handle having a baddie

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charles_leclerc : the cutout picture has me rolling

liked by yn_ln

yn_ln : he told me to leave it out

oscarpiastri : i know how lucky i am to have pulled you;)

liked by yn_ln

oscarpiastri : my pretty girl

liked by yn_ln

alexandrasaintmleux: my loves!

liked by yn_ln and oscarpiastri

carlossainz55 : oh this is the good luck charm, huh?😉

liked by yn_ln and oscarpiastri

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☘️🌿🌎☁️🍃🌱🐢

[cutehoons02]

My posessive kitten!

Jake pt Sunghoon pt Jaypt

*pairing: pervy kitten hybrid Jungwon x vet Girl

*trope: roomates to lovers/oppositive attraction

*synopsis: You were in the shit, Your best friend had decided to move in with his boyfriend and you were looking for a roommate to even the apartment and every person you met to share the expenses didn’t convince you, until Jake your best friend’s boyfriend told you that Jungwon one of his hybrid friends was looking for a house and so you found yourself sharing the space with a kitten who looked so cute that he was crazy

*tags: Jungwon is a black cat hybrid, lots of tension, Jungwon behaves with superiority and loves to tease the protagonist always throwing arrows, the protagonist studies veterinary for hybrid and finds himself studying the world of hybrid, territoriality, fake innocent girl, neddy Jungwon, needy girl, kisses, pacifiers, masturbation, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) normal-doggy sex, knot filling, pet names (good girl,baby) (wonnie)

12.3k (🐈‍⬛)

(English is not my native language)

For decades now, hybrids had been living alongside humans. Once considered "special" beings, half-human and half-animal, a nature experiment that hadn't yet found its place in the world, they had fought for years to gain recognition of their rights and true integration into society. Now, hybrids could study, work, rent homes, and live freely, without necessarily having to belong to a human family that would adopt them.

However, there were still strict rules: until the age of twenty, they could live in Hybrid Centers, facilities created to provide education and prepare them for independent living. But after that age, they either had to be adopted by a family willing to take care of them, or find a job and an apartment like any other citizen.

Jungwon had reached that point, staring at the form they had just given him, his black ears slightly lowered, his tail flicking irritably behind him. “You just need to find a place, Jungwon,” said the operator from the Center, a man in his fifties with glasses perched on his nose. “It’s not that bad.” Not that bad for you, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek. You're not the one who has to change your whole life overnight. Not that he hadn’t known this moment would come. He knew very well. But a part of him had hoped to delay it a bit longer. He liked life at the Center. Sure, there were rules, but at least he had a safe roof over his head, guaranteed food, friends to spend time with... and he didn’t have to worry too much about the future. Now, though, he had to find a place. And fast. When he left the office, still holding the form in his hands, he found Jake waiting for him. The friend sized him up and tilted his head, his golden ears twitching with the movement. “Funeral face,” he commented with a little laugh. “Did they finally kick you out?” Jungwon shot him a glare. “Very funny.” Jake started walking beside him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie. Unlike him, Jake was the classic sunny hybrid, always smiling, always ready to help others. Very golden retriever. “I told you to find someone to adopt you, you know?” the friend continued with a sly grin. Jungwon flicked his black ears in annoyance. “And become some boring human’s pet? No, thanks.” He had never been the type to be kept on a leash – figuratively speaking, of course. He wanted his freedom, he wanted to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He didn’t like the idea of someone making decisions for him. Jake laughed, as if he had already predicted that response. Then he suddenly stopped and turned to him. “Speaking of homes... I know you're looking for one.” Jungwon stiffened. “It’s not that I’m looking for one… they’re forcing me to find one.” “Same difference. Anyway, I’ve got an idea for you.” Jungwon narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “What kind of idea?” “My girlfriend has a friend who’s looking for a roommate,” Jake explained, shrugging his shoulders. “And the price is great. Oh, by the way... she’s a vet for hybrids.” Jungwon froze. His ears immediately flattened, and his tail stiffened. “NO.” Jake sighed. “Don’t be dramatic, she’s not the devil.” “Hybrid vets are worse than regular humans,” Jungwon muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “They treat you like an experiment to study. They stick needles everywhere and talk to you like you're a helpless puppy.” “She’s not like that,” Jake assured him. “Really. And think about it: living with a vet could actually be a benefit for you. She already knows how to deal with hybrids, won’t ask stupid questions, and won’t bother you.” Jungwon made a sound of disapproval. The idea of living with a vet made him uneasy… but, on the other hand, he didn’t have many alternatives. “… I want to see the apartment first. And I want to smell it, and her,” he finally conceded, reluctantly. Jake smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I knew you'd come around to my idea.” Jungwon sighed, but deep down he was already curious. Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be that bad after all. At least, he hoped so.

You were desperate; it wasn’t an exaggeration, it was a fact. After two years of perfect cohabitation, your roommate and best friend had announced, with heart-shaped eyes and a smile that reeked of goodbye, that she was finally going to take the big step: move in with her boyfriend.

His boyfriend, Jake. Jake, the golden retriever hybrid who was the most cheerful and handsome one you’d ever known, the one you had studied carefully to make sure he was perfect for your friend. And you’d done a great job because those two looked like they had stepped out of a fairy tale. Great for them, but a disaster for you. Because now, you found yourself alone, with a too-large and too-expensive apartment to live in by yourself.

You had posted ads everywhere, set up appointments, and met possible candidates. But none of them convinced you.

The first one was a nice human guy, but he had the vibe of someone who forgot the bills and lived off pizza and takeout left lying around for days. No, thanks.

The second was a sweet girl, but she spoke to her hamster like it was her child and insisted you greet it every time you came home. Also, no.

The third… let’s not even talk about it. He was a fox hybrid who tried to hit on you with a terrible pick-up line five minutes after crossing the threshold. Eliminated.

In short, you were back at square one.

You were a social and friendly person with everyone, but also extremely perfectionistic. Probably a side effect of your training as a hybrid vet. Your studies honed your critical eye, your need for precision, and organization. You didn’t just want any roommate; you wanted someone polite, clean, respectful, and… well, bearable.

That’s when your best friend, perhaps feeling guilty for “abandoning” you, suggested a name.

'Jungwon.'

“Who?”

'A friend of Jake’s hybrid cat,' she answered with an encouraging smile. 'He’s looking for a place, and I think he might be perfect for you.' You weren’t convinced, but at that point, you were so desperate that you agreed to at least meet him.

The next day, you opened the door with a slight smile, letting your best friend, Jake, and… the black ball of fur that stared at you with piercing, bright green eyes, thin and probing.

It was unsettling. Not just because he didn’t take his eyes off you, as if trying to read you, but because in his gaze, there was something too self-assured, a hint of malice that sent chills down your spine.

Jake, holding Jungwon in his arms like he was a domestic kitten (though clearly, he wasn’t), spoke to him in a sweet, almost reassuring tone before setting him down.

'Come on, behave.” Jungwon landed gracefully on the floor, stretching slightly with a fluid motion, his long black tail lazily swaying behind him. He didn’t greet you. He just walked slowly through your apartment with an analytical, almost… predatory air.

You watched him closely as you showed him around. He was handsome, and that irritated you, but you never crossed the line of getting too close as you showed him the bathroom, the kitchen, his new room, and the living room. But when you opened the door to your bedroom, he paused longer. Too long. He gave a soft huff, as if absorbing the air in the room, and then, without hesitation, jumped onto your bed.

He mewed softly, rubbing against the sheets with a look of pure satisfaction as if he had found the perfect spot to stay.

“Ehm…” You looked at Jake, searching for answers, but he looked visibly embarrassed.

'Jungwon…' he scolded, running a hand through his hair. 'Come on, don’t do this.'

But Jungwon didn’t stop. He buried his face in the pillow, his ears twitching with excitement as his body slid across the blankets, leaving his scent behind, marking the space as if it were already his.

His mind was going to a dangerous place.

God, what a scent… It was sweet, and enveloping, with notes of lavender and honey. But underneath, there was something else. Something of yours, something that was driving him crazy.

Burying himself under the blankets in here…Jungwon bit his lower lip as a shiver ran down his spine. Hybrids didn’t have perfect self-control when it came to the scents that attracted them, and yours was… damn good.

He imagined waking up here every morning, burying his face in your hair while you slept, your warmth pressed against his body…He felt his tail twitch behind him.

I wonder how she would react if I brushed up against her like this… if my tail caressed her bare skin while she slept if my breath brushed against her ear before she even woke up…

He bit his cheek to suppress the low growl rising in his throat.

He was a well-behaved kitten, yes. He wouldn’t do anything inappropriate. But thinking about it? He couldn’t exactly stop himself. He barely lifted his gaze to you, his sharp eyes narrowing even further as he studied you.

Roommate, huh? Maybe, or maybe something more interesting.

When Jungwon returned to the kitchen, you expected him to just settle down and perhaps give you a clear answer about the house. But no, he purred—not at you, of course. Oh no, that would have been too easy.

Instead, he moved toward Jake and rubbed slowly against his legs, his long tail moving lazily behind him as his little face vibrated with satisfaction and he mewed something. A deep, slow, almost sensual sound.

You stared at him, unsure. Was that necessary?

“So?” you asked, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine. “Did you like the apartment?” Then, with a more cautious tone: “Did you like… the scent?” you asked the cat as he stared at you.

Jake scratched the back of his neck, laughing softly. 'I think he liked you.'

You stiffened slightly, trying not to let it show. He was just a hybrid, a territorial cat, nothing more. It didn’t mean anything. You didn’t answer, simply watching Jungwon as he and Jake moved into the guest room to talk.

'Oh my God, you're as stiff as a board!' exclaimed your best friend, sitting next to you with a mischievous smile.

You shot her an irritated glance. "What are you talking about?" She nudged you. 'You saw how hot he is, right?'

You huffed. "No, I didn't."

'What do you mean, no? Even as a hybrid, it's obvious he's a looker.'

You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes. "I don't care. I just want a normal roommate, to finish my studies, and not have unnecessary distractions."

She gave you a satisfied little smirk. 'Sure, sure... let's see if you'll say the same thing soon.' You were about to ask her what she meant, but then you heard footsteps.

First, Jake's—steady and relaxed. Then, slower, almost calculated steps followed behind him.

You turned around and— Oh. The guy leaving the room wasn’t a hybrid in animal form anymore. He was a man.

Blonde, slightly wavy dyed hair framed a face that looked sculpted with unnerving precision. Sharp, deep brown eyes that perfectly contrasted with his cat-hybrid form. His feline ears were still there, less pointed than before but still visible among his soft hair, and then there was his tail. Longer than in his animal form, but constantly moving— a detail your veterinary side couldn't ignore.

Joy? Tension? Embarrassment? No.

He didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he studied you, his gaze slowly scanning over you, as though he were analyzing every little detail, and in an automatic impulse, you extended your hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/n.”

He stopped. He didn’t immediately take your hand. He first looked you in the eyes, then lowered his gaze to your outstretched hand. A silence of a few seconds that felt like an eternity, and then he smiled.

One of those slow, almost lazy smiles, but with something too subtle to catch immediately, and finally, he took your hand.

His grip wasn’t excessive, but it wasn’t hesitant either. Sweet, but firm. His thumb barely moved across your skin, a touch almost imperceptible, and then…

'Nice to meet you, roommate. I’m Jungwon.'

Those words left his lips with a tone that made you shiver.

More than a month had passed since Jungwon moved into the apartment with you, and you still couldn’t figure him out. And it was absurd. You’d been studying and working with hybrids for years; you knew every one of their traits, habits, and instincts… Yet, he was an enigma.

One day he’d throw sharp jabs at you, the next, he’d almost be sweet.

“You’re always so precise and organized... almost boring,” he told you one day as he watched you carefully study and organize your veterinary notes.

“You don’t know how to have fun, do you? Maybe you should loosen up, every once in a while,” he said another day while you were out shopping, and you had been adamant about not going with him to a hybrid-only party.

“You stress too much, and when you do, your scent changes. I don’t like it,” he said one day when you came home with tears in your eyes for messing up a project on your exam.

“But the scent you leave on the couch... that, I like,” he said one day with a cocky tone while you were half-asleep next to him, watching a movie together.

He drove you crazy, and the worst part was his presence. No matter how much you tried to keep your distance, he was always there. In the house, in your space, and yet, when you came home and he was in his animal form, he wouldn’t even look at you.

Was he offended? Or was it just a game? He would barely turn around, flick his tail with a bored expression, and go to his room without a single meow of goodbye. But then, some nights, you’d find him under your bed.

And that’s when your patience ran out.

That evening, when you came home late from work, you found Jungwon—this time in his human form—sprawled out on the couch with his phone in hand. His black ears twitched slightly, signaling that he'd heard you enter, but of course, he didn’t even bother to look up. You sighed, tossing your bag onto a chair. Fine, I won’t ignore him this time. "Jungwon," you called flatly. He finally lifted his head, his ears perking up slightly as they caught the sound of your voice, with a look that was both bored and amused at the same time. 'Mmh?' You crossed your arms. "Can we talk?" He gave a small crooked smile. 'You’re always so formal… Go ahead, roommate.' You ignored the teasing tone. "Why do you keep sleeping under my bed?" He paused for a second, then tilted his head, his smile widening. 'Oh? You noticed?' You blinked, incredulous. "Of course I noticed! I've found you there more than once! Don’t try to deny it." Jungwon chuckled, stretching his arms behind his head in a lazy motion, as though stretching lightly. 'I’m not going to deny it. I’m just waiting to hear your lecture.' Your eye twitched with irritation. "I’m not going to lecture you. It’s simple: my room is mine. You have yours, and I don’t go into yours. If I did, you’d get mad because your room has to smell only like you. Yet, you don’t care and come sleep under my bed like it’s normal." He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly. 'I don’t see the problem. It’s just the floor.' "It’s not just the floor!" you exclaimed, exasperated. "It’s my space, and you can’t just… squat there!" Jungwon sat up slightly, his bright green eyes gleaming with mischief. 'What if I told you the problem isn’t the floor, but the fact that I’m under you?' You blushed. "What?" 'Your scent helps me sleep,' he said with disarming naturalness as if it were the most normal thing in the world. You stared at him, your brain trying to process. "You… what?" Jungwon slowly stood up, approaching with measured steps, his tail lazily swishing behind him. 'Is that so strange? You know better than me that hybrids have an excellent sense of smell, especially our cats. And your scent is…' He stopped right in front of you, lowering his head slightly to look at you better. '…comforting.' You swallowed. Don’t let him intimidate you. "Look, I don’t care if you find my scent pleasant or whatever," you replied, trying to keep your voice firm. "But I don’t want you sleeping in my room." Jungwon smiled. 'What if I told you I can’t live without it?' Annoyed, you stared him straight in the eyes. "What if I told you I’ll kick you out?" you said with a smile that made Jungwon growl internally. Silence. Then, to your surprise, Jungwon burst into laughter. It was a genuine laugh, light, almost musical. But there was a hint of mischief, as though he was teasing you. 'God, you’re so funny when you’re mad.' You spun around quickly to leave because you were tired of his behavior, but he was faster. He grabbed your wrist, not roughly, but with enough of a firm grip to stop you. 'Joking aside,' he murmured, his voice lower. 'I’m not doing it to annoy you.' You slowly turned to face him, locking eyes, and Jungwon ran a hand through his hair, an almost nervous gesture. 'It’s just that… I like knowing you're there.' You didn’t respond right away. Something in his tone at that moment made you hesitate, and then he smiled again, and that vulnerability vanished, replaced by his usual arrogance. 'But if you want me to stop, I’ll do my best.' “I’ll do my best” didn’t mean he would stop. It just meant he’d try, and somehow, you already knew he would never truly stop.

It was one o'clock p.m. when you heard the door open, and Jungwon was laughing, talking on the phone with someone. He seemed in a good mood, his low and relaxed laughter filling the air as he took off his jacket.

“…Come on, it’s impossible, Heeseung, the musical part is completely off-beat—” But as soon as he saw you sitting at the table, surrounded by books, notebooks, the tablet with some charts, and a plate of food next to you.

For a moment, he just stared at you in silence. Then, without even greeting you, he lowered the phone and abruptly ended the call. He raised an eyebrow, his tail twitching slightly as he took in the sight of you sitting there in front of him. It was strange because you always came home around 6 p.m. 'Why are you home already?'

You smiled innocently. "I have to stay home and study this week, it's exam time."

You pointed to the plate. "I made you some food in case you’re hungry. I know you love rice with vegetables, so I made some for both of us."

Jungwon walked over, put his bag down, and slumped into a chair.

'How thoughtful,' he muttered, picking up the fork with an amused smile. Then he looked up at you, his feline eyes scanning you as if they always hid something, and he began eating, apparently relaxed, but his eyes wandered over your books, curious. And then, he noticed the titles of the textbooks you were studying, and his cheeks tinged slightly red.

Reproduction in Feline Hybrids: Biology and Behavior.

Mating Between Hybrids and Humans: Probabilities and Precautions.

Heat Dynamics in Hybrid Cats.

Jungwon froze for a moment, seemingly analyzing what he had just read. Then, slowly, his smile changed, it was no longer a regular smile, but one of those smiles you had learned to fear, a mix of amusement and mischief.

Jungwon calmly put down his fork, leaned back in his chair, and intertwined his fingers on the table.

'Interesting.' You already knew where he was going with this and sighed, because you knew he’d start making jokes. "Don’t start."

He tilted his head, his gaze moving over the open texts. ìSo, that’s why you’re home all week? To study...' He paused for a moment, then lifted his eyes to you with a dangerous glint. 'Sex between hybrids?'

You hurried to correct him. "Reproduction. It’s not the same thing."

He smiled. 'Oh, but it’s very similar,' he said cheekily. You wanted to hide and sink into the ground with embarrassment.

'So,' he continued, tapping his fingers on the table. 'You’re reading about how… mating works between a hybrid and a human?' He said it slowly, almost savoring each word, and your face immediately heated up.

"I-I'm studying for an exam, Jungwon." You tried to stay calm, even though he wouldn’t take his eyes off you. "It’s important to know these things since I’m a veterinarian and I’m studying for my specialization."

He nodded slowly. 'I see.' Then he looked down at one of the books, and his smile grew even wider.

'And these numbers?' He pointed to one of the charts. 'Are you analyzing the success rate between a hybrid and a human?'

You swallowed. "Yes," and you handed it to him, and his eyes carefully scanned the various numbers and colors. Jungwon chuckled, amused. 'And tell me... how’s the percentage? High?'

"It depends on the type of hybrid," you replied quickly, trying to stay professional.

But he leaned in a little closer to the table.

'And for cats?' You lost your breath for a second.

"Jungwon." You tried to keep a serious tone. "You’re annoying."

He smiled again. 'And you’re too adorable when you try to be professional about topics so...' He paused theatrically. '...delicate.'

You covered your face with a hand, exhausted. It was only the first day. How the hell were you going to survive a whole week?

Jungwon shook his head, laughing to himself as he went back to eating, but in his mind, he was already looking forward to the days ahead. It was going to be an interesting week, he thought to himself.

Jungwon woke up late, the sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a soft light across his room. He stretched slowly, yawning, his tail moving lazily beneath the covers. It was then that he smelled it—your scent, sweet and persistent, lingering in the air, on the sheets, maybe even on him. A shiver ran down his spine, and a familiar warmth spread low in his belly. 'Shit.' He placed a hand on his face, trying to push away the thoughts invading his mind. You. You under him, your soft skin against his, your warm breath against his neck. You, moaned his name as he sank into you, his tail wrapping around your body, his knot filling you up and making you tremble. Just the thought of it made him growl quietly between his teeth. 'Damn study week.' As if it wasn’t already hard enough living with you, now he had to listen to you talk about reproduction, mating, and success rates. And now, his body was reacting on its own. He ran a hand through his light hair, trying to clear his thoughts. He couldn’t afford to ruin everything. He had finally found a decent roommate—though a little too perfect for his taste—and an apartment to stay in. He couldn’t let his cat instincts fixate on you in inappropriate and dirty ways. With a sigh, he got up, put on a pair of sweatpants, and left the room. You were in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a steaming cup in your hands, immersed in your books. As soon as you heard footsteps, you looked up distractedly… and nearly choked on your herbal tea. Jungwon entered the room shirtless, wearing only soft sweatpants around his hips, his smooth, pale skin fully exposed. He toned arms, sculpted abs, and a V-line that dipped too enticingly beneath the waistband of his pants. It was… It was too attractive and too beautiful at the same time. You coughed violently, trying to catch your breath as he looked at you with an amused smile. 'Woah, you okay?' he asked, walking closer and giving you a few innocent taps on the back. You nodded frantically, still coughing, your face probably on fire. He leaned against the counter, taking his coffee cup and sipping it calmly. Then, with the most shameless tone in the world, he tilted his head and looked at you with mischief. 'Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a guy shirtless.' You shot him a death glare, desperately trying to recover. “I’ve seen them.” You paused to swallow. “But not my roommate.” Jungwon chuckled, leaning against the sink. 'I’m just saying, it’s nothing shocking. I’m just a regular guy, part hybrid, with a pretty decent body.' He shrugged and winked at you, making his muscles move beneath his skin. 'I was hot.' You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms, and a shiver ran through your body. “Doesn’t seem like hybrid cats are in heat right now.” It was an innocent statement. Purely academic. But Jungwon smiled in a way that immediately made you regret speaking, and he moved a little closer, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 'I’m not in heat.' His voice was low, slightly husky, and your stomach twisted. You lowered your gaze to your cup, trying to focus on the fact that you still had exams to pass and a roommate who was always teasing you. You sighed. “Fine.” Jungwon chuckled, going back to drinking his coffee as if nothing had happened. But his tail, the one that kept moving slowly behind him, betrayed his mood far too well, and you already knew it wasn’t over yet.

That morning, Jungwon wasn’t home, and you finally had some peace.

You sat at the table with your tablet on, your books open, and a notebook full of notes. You spent hours studying carefully, softly repeating the harder concepts to yourself. Before lunch, you went out to do some grocery shopping, picking up what you needed and also getting a few things for Jungwon.

You have learned some of his cat hybrid preferences:

Hot milk with a bit of honey. He had told you he always drank it when he felt tired.

Smoked tuna. You’d noticed that every time he ate it, his tail moved slower, a sign of pure enjoyment.

Cream-filled pastries. He had never explicitly said it, but you’d seen how his eyes sparkled every time he had one.

Dried catnip, which he’d never admit to liking, but that would mysteriously disappear from the pantry now and then.

As you were putting away the groceries, you heard the door open, and it was exactly one o’clock p.m. when Jungwon walked in with damp hair from the rain. The scent of rain and wind mixed with the sweet aroma of vanilla and butter, something he must have brought back from the bakery.

He greeted you with a smile and handed you a white cardboard box.

'Spring’s beginning,' he said casually.

You took it, curious. “What’s this?”

'A cake.' He took off his wet jacket, shaking his hair slightly. 'It’s a new recipe we tested this morning.'

You eyed him with suspicion. “It’s not your birthday, right?”

Jungwon chuckled softly. 'No, of course not. I made it. You need to try it and tell me if it’s good.'

It was strange. Jungwon never did things without a second purpose, yet today he seemed... normal. After eating, you tasted the cake. It was soft, with a light cream and a hint of honey and lemon.

“Wow,” you said, genuinely surprised. “It’s really good.”

Jungwon smiled a flash of satisfaction in his eyes. You ate together, and for the first time, he acted almost kindly. Of course, there were still his usual jabs—comments about how you held your fork, how your face lit up when you ate something good, how your sweatshirt was way too big on you—but they were light, almost affectionate, and it worried you. It was strange seeing Jungwon like this.

At the end of lunch, he stretched with a little feline yawn and stood up. 'I’m going to take a shower and then sleep for a bit.'

You nodded, but you didn’t stop watching him as he left the kitchen.

What the hell is going on with him today?

It was already five in the afternoon, and you were immersed in your studies, completely absorbed in the descriptions of hybrid cat reproduction. The characteristics of the knot, its use in keeping the partner secured during mating, the success rates between hybrids and humans… And then you felt something soft brush against your legs. You looked down and found Jungwon in his feline form, a black ball of fur with sharp green eyes staring at you intensely. "Jungwon?" He meowed softly, rubbing his head against your leg. It was the first time he had approached you like that, and with slightly trembling hands, you stroked him. His ears lowered in pleasure, and as if that was the sign he had been waiting for, he jumped onto your lap, curling up against you. You stayed still for a moment. Jungwon wasn’t the type for physical contact, at least not in that way. He was more the type to brush against you briefly, to sneak touches, using contact as a game, but now he was here. Curled up between your legs, his small warm body vibrating softly with purring as he pressed even closer to your hoodie, rubbing his little face against the soft fabric as if trying to soak up your scent. It was too intimate of a scene. You went back to focusing on your notes, repeating aloud what you were studying.

"… during mating, the male’s knot swells inside the mate, preventing immediate extraction and ensuring a longer bond between the two partners…"

Below you, Jungwon moved slightly. You were distracted for a moment to look at him and his ears had moved imperceptibly and his tail had twisted around your legs. You continued reading.

"… in feline hybrids, this process can last several minutes up to a maximum of forty-five, increasing the chances of conception…"

You heard a light sound, something in between a meow and a little moan. You looked down again and Jungwon was looking at you. His eyes were darker, slightly narrower, and his tail moved slowly, languid. Then, with a fluid movement, he rubbed his face against your belly, making a little satisfied sound as if the idea of what you were saying had pleased him too much. You kept repeating it out loud for hours, Trying to ignore the strange atmosphere that had been created between you and Jungwon after his sudden-and very suspicious-meow of the afternoon.

Then, at 7:30 p.m., the door to his room opened and he entered the kitchen with the usual relaxed and cheeky attitude. 'Can you stop?' He asked with a tone that seemed almost bored, although in his eyes there was that usual glow of malice. You looked at him with a confused air. "Stop what?" 'To talk about knots, couplings, and all those things that we know to hybrids and even humans who are not veterinarians.' You snorted, trying to close the book. "I’m studying, Jungwon. Sorry if I want to pass my exams." But he was faster than you. With an agile movement, he took the book out of your hands and opened it again, scrolling through the pages with ease. A funny smile appeared on his lips as he read some passages, and then his eyes returned to you. 'Tell me, Y/n…' he said, tilting his head slightly. 'You’re so good at studying… then you’ll be able to answer some questions, won’t you?' You get stiff. "Jungwon, give me back the book." But he ignored your request and leaned to the table, browsing through the pages calmly. 'How long does the knot of a feline hybrid last on average?' he asked with innocence, though his tone was not at all innocent. You feel your cheeks warm. "It depends… can last from twenty to forty-five minutes, depending on the partner and the level of excitement." He smiled, smug. 'Interesting. And during the act, what do cat hybrids like most?' Swallowing, clenching fists on knees. "It depends on the hybrid." Jungwon shook his head, amused.

'Come on, doctor. You’re an expert, aren’t you? You know we have some innate preferences…' His eyes grew ever more intense as he waited for your answer. You bit your lip. "Cat hybrids tend to appreciate the bite on the nape… because they stimulate the instinct of submission and bonding with the partner." He tilted his head, his tail moving lazily behind him. 'What else?' You felt the beat accelerate. "Lick and nibble on the skin of your partner, especially in sensitive areas. Physical contact is important for you." Jungwon slowly licked his lips, as if he was tasting your words. 'Interesting…' He muttered, leafing through the pages again. Then he stopped at a chapter and a sneaky smile curled his lips. 'What about contraceptives?' You stiffened. "What?" He raised an eyebrow. 'What can a human girl use to avoid a pregnancy with a human? And a hybrid?' Deglutitors. "There are specific pills for both humans and hybrids. Those for hybrids also regulate heat hormones, while those for humans serve to prevent fertilization with the hybrid seed." Jungwon nodded as if he was satisfied with your answer. Then his gaze became more penetrating. 'Do you take them?' You were blocked. The air suddenly seemed heavier and his tone was playful, but there was something deeper in his voice. Something more authoritative.You lowered your gaze, feeling the heat rise to the cheeks. You never imagined having to answer such a question. Then, without looking into his eyes, you nodded slightly but Jungwon didn’t seem satisfied. With a slow step he approached and leaned slightly, his face dangerously close to yours. 'I want to hear you say the answer, Y/n.' His tone was low, almost a whisper, and it made your back shiver. "… Yes, I do." 'Yes, what?' "Yes, I will." He smiled, his smug expression. 'Good girl.' Then he straightened up and, as if nothing had happened, closed the book and put it on the table. 'Now you can stop studying for today. It’s dinner time.' he said lightly as if he had not just embarrassed you to the core. He glanced at you one last time, then turned to the refrigerator, leaving you there with your heart pounding and feeling that Jungwon was much more dangerous than you had imagined.

The heavy rain was thundering on the roof, accompanied by the deep sound of thunder that shook the air. You slowly opened your eyes, still groggy from sleep, but something seemed out of place. The door to your room was open, and you had closed it the night before. You leaned over the bed, your heart beating quietly in your chest, and looked down; under the bed, curled up in his animal form, Jungwon was sleeping deeply. His small body rose and fell with a regular rhythm, his black tail wrapped around his body, and a light puff of air left his lips now and then. For a moment, you found yourself thinking that he looked incredibly sweet when he slept. Almost… harmless. Maybe he should sleep forever, you thought sarcastically, aware of how cheeky and irreverent he was when awake. You slowly got up, careful not to wake him, and opened the blinds to let some light in, but the sky outside was dark, heavy with rain. A small meow caught your attention. Jungwon had woken up and, still in his animal form, lazily rubbed against your legs. You hesitated for a moment, then reached out and gently petted his head, feeling his soft fur under your fingers. It was one of the few times he allowed you to touch him without teasing. "I'm going to the bathroom," you said quietly. When you came out, he was there in his human form, leaning against the hallway wall with a small catnip twig between his lips, chewing absentmindedly. His hair was messy, his oversized sweater hanging off one shoulder, and his tail lazily swayed behind him. You stared at him. "Is something wrong?" Jungwon looked at you with an unreadable expression, then shrugged. 'Hmm… nothing.' But then, without any warning, he stepped closer and buried his face in the crook of your neck. His warm breath tickled your skin, and you froze completely, shocked by his sudden gesture. "J-Jungwon?" You felt his chest vibrating against you in a soft laugh. 'You smell good…' he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. You tensed slightly. "Are you going to explain to me what the hell is going on with you?" He pulled away just a bit, his icy green eyes meeting yours. 'I don't like thunderstorms.' His admission took you by surprise. Jungwon, the cheeky, territorial, manipulative hybrid, was afraid of something? All day long, he stayed incredibly close to you. You were on the couch, and he sat next to you, phone in hand, lazily scrolling through the screen. You quietly repeated your notes about hybrids, and every so often he threw in a teasing comment. But when the thunder struck the house with a deafening roar and the lights went out suddenly, his body moved instinctively. He grabbed your hand and sat next to you, his chest rising and falling faster. 'Don't leave me alone,' he whispered. You felt his fingers gently tighten around yours, his tail trembling slightly. You smiled, trying to lighten the tension. "What are you, a scared little kitten?" A low growl formed in his throat, and when you turned to look at him, his gaze was no longer that of a frightened pup. It was burning. His teeth were slightly sharper, his mouth barely open as if he were controlling his breath, and his expression… was something you had never seen before. Instinctively, you gently stroked his hair, brushing his feline ears. His body vibrated slightly at the touch, and you felt his tail tighten around your wrist for a second. Jungwon reached out and took the book from your lap, letting it fall to the floor. Then, without giving you a chance to react, he pushed you gently against the couch, his face moving closer to yours, your heartbeat quickening. When his lips brushed against yours, it felt like the air around you became even warmer. Jungwon didn’t say anything and kissed you.

The kiss was ravenous, impatient. Jungwon moved over you with a hunger he couldn’t contain, his body trying to imprint his presence on your skin, your lips, everywhere. He wanted to possess you, mark you, make you understand that you had entered his territory and that you would never leave, his mind a whirlwind of obscene thoughts. What would it be like to see you beneath him, your body trembling under his touch? What would it be like if he heard you moaning his name, your nails digging into his back? If he could bury himself inside you, fill you up until you were completely his? The thought made him growl softly against your lips, his hands tightening around you, and you pulled him even closer, letting your body respond to his instincts. Feeling him so close, the heat of his skin against yours, the way he rubbed against you slightly without even realizing it… it was almost overwhelming. Jungwon pulled away from you for just a moment, his breath heavy as he looked at you with glossy, cheeky eyes. Then he lowered his face and began licking your neck, first slowly, then with more intensity, nibbling and leaving little red marks on your sensitive skin. A shiver ran down your spine, and you couldn’t hold back a small moan. He smiled against your skin. 'You’re making the sounds I want to hear…' he whispered with a hoarse voice. You teased him, trying to keep control. “Are you putting into practice what I studied yesterday?” Jungwon chuckled against your neck, licking you slowly until he reached your ear. 'Mh, yeah… but I’m skipping straight to the more interesting parts.' You felt his tail lazily wrap around your thigh, his grip becoming more secure. Then his voice dropped, making you shiver. 'And you know what my favorite part is?' he whispered, licking his lips just barely. 'The part where I make you mine.' You laughed as you felt him lightly tickle you, teasing him, running your fingers through his light hair. “You’re too confident, Jungwon.” He lifted his face, looking at you with mischievous, gleaming eyes. 'And shouldn’t I be?' Before you could answer, his hands slipped under your sweatshirt, grazing your skin with the warm touch of his fingers. A shiver ran down your back, and Jungwon paused for a moment as if savoring the sensation of your body under his touch. Then his gaze grew more intense, and with a sly smile, he whispered in your ear: 'Not even the bra? Tsk. I knew you were a cheeky girl.'

With a fluid movement, he took off your sweatshirt, leaving you vulnerable under his predatory gaze. He wasted no time: his lips immediately found a beautiful bud of yours to tease, leaving kisses and small bites along your breast and with the other hand squeezing slightly the other breast and her warm breath against you made you moan. 'Who knows what you would be like,' he muttered between a little bite and licking your nipples, 'if you were full of milk for our puppies...' A shiver passed through your body, and for a moment you felt the primal instinct behind his words, the animalistic desire to mark you, to bind you to him in the deepest way possible. You quickly recovered and nudged him slightly, laughing. "In another life, or perhaps later," you provoked him, enjoying the spark of defiance in his eyes. Jungwon growled softly, his teeth shining in the room’s flickering light. 'I don’t like to wait.' Another thunder shook the house, and for a moment you just felt him stiffening. You noticed it, and you couldn’t resist the temptation to mock him. "Oh? Big Jungwon is afraid of a thunderstorm?" You shouldn’t have said that because with a quick movement, his body presses against yours, its hard and warm length rubbing against your sensitive pussy, even through clothes. The sudden contact made you moan her name before you knew it. Jungwon smiled, satisfied, and then his voice became lower, deeper. Authoritarian. 'I’m afraid again. I challenge you.' He rubbed against you and this time to drive you crazy, you felt his cock grow against you, hard, insistent, making you moan involuntarily.

A sharp smile was painted on her face as her lips began to come down, kissing you with adoration along the belly until it stopped right at the edge of your pants. You looked up at him, the bright eyes of a restrained desire. He waited as if he wanted to hear you plead, but you, biting your lip, gave him only a nod of assent. This seemed to amuse Jungwon, who with a mischievous look tickled you a little more before slowly taking off your pants.

A low whistle slipped from his lips when he saw your black lace panties. 'You are so beautiful not to mention your smell,' he whispered with a note of amusement as his finger traced a fiery path along your inner thigh. When he touched the damp cloth, his smile widened.

'Look how wet you are...' he muttered in a provocative tone. 'Don’t tell me that it’s all my fault?'

You felt yourself burn, but the playful spark in your eyes made him growl softly. He stooped down, the warm breath touching your skin as his fingers made small circles closer and closer to where you wanted it most. 'Tell me...' whispered in a low and territorial voice, his gaze chained to yours. 'Has anyone ever filled you before?' You reckon softly, shaking your head with a mixture of challenge and embarrassment. "No," you replied, your voice a flutter of excitement.

Jungwon licked his lips, his eyes curled up with pure possession and his tail began to swing as happy as he was to have heard those words.

'Then I will assure you that you will never need anyone else.'

His mouth settled on the skin of your thighs and began to give you small kisses and marks, as his hands crept deeper and deeper.

'I will be the only one to fill you... and make you feel so good that you won’t think of anyone else.' A shiver ran through your back as his fingers moved with a torturing slowness. He smiled, satisfied with your reaction.

In a slow, almost studied movement, he pulled off your panties, leaving you completely vulnerable under him. 'So beautiful and already so wet for a hybrid, then.' His tone was a mixture of joke and satisfaction while with a curious act, he opened your legs.

His feline eyes shone with malice, his warm breath grazed your skin. Then, without warning, his fingers went down to pull off your pulsating clit. A groan eluded you at the feeling of his slow, torturing touch, as he tilted his head with an accomplished smile. 'Tell me, little vet, what are you going through for the exam?'

His voice was low, charged with a restrained exception, as his finger began to massage your swollen clitoris with unnerving precision.

'Maybe the reproduction of feline hybrids? The node filling?' The heat went up to your face. Your mind tried to join theoretical concepts, but its touch made it difficult to even think. "Yes, the cat hybrids have a knot that serves to hold the seed" you managed to stutter, the voice broken by the shivers of pleasure running down your back. He giggled softly, his breath stroking the inside of your thighs while increasing the pressure on your sensitive spot.

'Good, but it seems to me that it is distracting you. I bet you might have asked yourself a few spicy questions about the links between hybrids and humans at times.' Suddenly, without ceasing to torment your clitoris, he slid a finger into you, the hot and invasive feeling made you gasp. He smiled, satisfied. 'Answer me, have you ever thought of me filling you up while you were studying?'

his finger began to pump inside your slimy cunt but at the same time, he stopped because he wanted to tease you and you knew you had to answer him as soon as possible. "Yes, yes I thought of you" he laughed and his ears picked up every sound you made and his tail moved more and more no matter how excited he was. 'Let's see if you can stay focused... How long is the bond created by the knot of a cat hybrid?'

You clutched the sheets, trying to formulate a sensible answer despite the growing pleasure. "D-Depends... it can last from a few minutes to ... to half an hour...and if your cats are in heat the knot act could last even hours!"

He tilted his head, satisfied with your answer. 'You want another finger, baby?' Nod frantically, the need to feel it deeper was now unbearable. He smiled, but before settling, he formulated another question: 'And how does the human's body react when it is filled by the knot?'

You struggled to think, but between the desire and his expert touch, the answer came out wrong. As soon as the words left your lips, you felt a slight pinch on your thigh. 'Wrong.'

His voice became lower, more authoritarian. 'And yet you should know, given how excited you are to just talk about it.' You bit your lip, his dominant tone made you shudder, while his fingers resumed moving inside you with more intensity. 'Maybe, I'll have to give you a more practical lesson, as you struggle to concentrate.'

He dipped another finger inside your now moist, sensitive, and slimy cunt and you pulled his tufts of light hair to bring him closer to you, your legs were now completely open under him, breathless as his fingers explored every inch of your intimacy with a wise and vicious touch, he looked down on you, his gaze burning with a primitive and possessive desire.

'Look how you tremble for me...' he whispered in a voice full of satisfaction, sliding a third or finger into you with maddening slowness.

'You're so tight ... like you were made just for me.' His tone was poisonously sweet, charged with a confidence that made you cringe. You felt completely at the mercy of his touch, yet you could not hold back a small flicker of provocation. "it's too much"

He froze for a moment, then laughed softly, a low, dangerous sound. His feline eyes became darker and hungrier.

'Oh, baby ... do you really think you can give me rules?' Suddenly, his fingers inside you moved deeper, faster, making you gasp out of control. 'Let me teach you one thing...' he whispered, lowering himself to touch your lips with warm breath.

'You don't decide anything. You're mine. You were born to be filled by me, always and only by me.' You could hear your heart pounding in your chest as its tone became darker, and more viscous.

'I'll ruin you, understand? I will fill you so well that you will not even be able to think of someone else, you will always have my seed and my knot inside you. No one will ever catch you like I will.'

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and when his mouth lowered on your sensitive buds, the heat became untenable. His tongue played with you, wet, slow, torturing, while his fingers inside you continued to move with precision, spreading and preparing you with perverse attention.

'I have to prepare you for my knot, baby. You'll have to welcome me completely.' His tone was a promise, a threat, and a sweet condemnation. He crawled at you, his movements languid but territorial, like a cat marking his territory.

'Tell me ... are you ready to be mine alone?' But at that moment you were already completely fucked, at the mercy of him and no one else. You nodded as you felt your spasms consume you inside your pussy throbbing as you came between his fingers, he meowed at the sight of your excitement against his lips, and like an animal hungry for its prey he began to suck all your excitement as if it were his favorite meal and at the same time he sucked your clit throbbing and the room was full of moans and small growls.

'Yes what?' his voice was low, slightly amused, but there was an authority in his question that made you cringe. Your face warmed as you clasped your legs instinctively, biting your lip. "I want you... I want your knot." A satisfied grin appeared on his lips as he tilted his head slightly, almost like a predator watching his prey play alone in his trap.

'So good and obedient ... at least in words,' he muttered, lowering his face until he touched your lips with hers.

'Let's see if you can keep this sweet submission even after I've ruined you completely.' Before you could answer, his arms closed around you, lifting you up without the slightest effort. The heat of his body pressed against yours as he carried you to your room, the lips tracing fiery kisses down your neck, leaving behind shivers of anticipation.

'You know,' he whispered against your skin, his voice charged with an almost possessive desire, 'I'm tired of sleeping under your bed in my animal form.'

You felt his teeth graze your earlobe before he added in a lower, rougher tone: 'I want to sleep with you, squeeze you, feel your body against mine every night... and most importantly, I want to fill you whenever I feel like it.'

He dropped you gently on the mattress, his eyes never taken away from yours. You felt chained under that gaze, unable to move while his presence dominated the room. You tried to play down, play with him, but the smile on his lips betrayed that he knew exactly what you were doing. Your trembling hands moved to lower his pants and then boer It was impressive, more than you had imagined. Its length throbbed, thick and full of desire, the transparent liquid that perled its tip was a silent promise of what he would enjoy in making you his own. he noticed your gaze and laughed softly, his hand caressing your cheek before descending along your body, tracing every curve with slow, possessive fingers.

'Do you like what you see, baby?' You could feel yourself burning up, but nodded slowly, biting your lip.

'Be clear.' His voice grew deeper, and his fingers grazed your center with an expert touch.

'Tell me what you want. Ask me well.' Your breath broke under the combination of his authoritarian tone and the touch that turned you on more and more. "I want you, ... I want yo, Jungwon to fill me." A contented growl escaped from his lips as he ducked over you, his body pressing against yours in an inescapable promise.

'Good girl.' His lips moved over yours with an intensity that made you lose your breath, his hands caressing you with a possessiveness that left no room for doubt.

'You are mine.' he whispered against your skin. 'And after this night, you will no longer have doubts about who owns you.'

Jungwon's eyes shone with a dangerous intensity, his smile curving into a contented grin as he watched you tremble beneath him. He grazed your dripping cunt with his cock, snatching a muffled moan at you. The heat between you was unbearable, and he seemed to revel in seeing you so vulnerable, completely at the mercy of his will.

'Tell me,' he muttered in a low, velvety voice, leaving a kiss on your neck. 'What have you studied about hybrids like me?' Your breathing was irregular as you tried to put the words together.

"The knot..." you whispered, but he interrupted you with more determined pressure against your center, making you gasp.

'Be more precise.' His voice was an order disguised as sweetness.

'You will know that hybrids have an instinct... a need to completely fill their mate. And you, sweet prey, want it, don't you?' You could feel yourself blazing and nodding slowly, your fingers clinging to the sheets beneath you as his body left no way out.

'It's not enough to nod, I want to hear you say it.' His mouth came close to your ear, his warm breath making you shudder.

'Tell me what you need, or I'll have to teach you to respond better.' You bit your lip, your mind clouded by desire and the way he was making you feel completely his. "I need you ... your knot."

Jungwon laughed softly, smugly, as you felt the tip of his mushroom cock push slightly inside you which made you tremble. 'So good and obedient...' he muttered, brushing your chin with his thumb.

'Let's see if you're as good at answering.' His lips rested on your neck, leaving a trail of slow, provocative kisses as she continued to touch you, still not giving you what you so desperately wanted.

'If you want to be filled as you wish, you will have to deserve it. Answer my question: how does the body of a human companion react when she is greeted by a knot?' Your mind struggled to remember the notions studied, but it was difficult to concentrate when his body pressed against yours in such an intimate way, causing you to lose all lucidity. "Yes ... it fits..." you managed to say, with a thread of voice. "the knot tightens around and then fills the girl's belly..."

'Very good. If you answer well ... well, I could be generous enough to give you exactly what you want.' You felt a shudder at his tone, a mixture of fear and excitement burning inside you. You wanted it more than anything else, and he knew it very well.

'What happens when the knot swells completely?' Swallow, trying to formulate a response as the heat inside you grew more and more. "It hangs inside ... prevents it from separating until ... until the binding is completed."

'Exact answer, I wonder,' he continued, her voice imbued with pure perversion, 'Will your body be tight enough to hold me back? Or will I have to teach you to adapt to my size?'

You covered your face with one hand, your embarrassment now skyrocketing. 'Don't hide, baby,' he whispered with a sharp smile.

'I want to see your every reaction as you answer me.' Your voice was a trembling whisper. "S-yes... it will hold you..."

'Very good,' he muttered, rewarding your response with a deep, possessive kiss.

'So, get ready. Because once I'm inside of you...' his smile got even more dangerous, 'I won't let you go for quite a while.'

And with those words, you felt with a determined push, his big cock go inside your pussy full of excitement. A groan escaped from your lips as your body adjusted to its presence, feeling it deeper than you ever imagined. The warmth, the fullness, the sense of connection—it was all too much. He paused for a moment as if he wanted to enjoy every second of the feeling of being inside you. His breathing became heavier, his hands clasping your hips with force. 'You're so tight...' he muttered, lowering herself to nibble at your earlobe.

'You're perfect for me, you know?' His words made you tremble. You could feel it throbbing inside you, its warm, thick length moving with maddening slowness as if it wanted to imprint every push into your body.

'You're really mine now,' he whispered against your skin, his hands holding you still as he upped the pace. 'No one can ever have you like I have you.' You nod, your mind clouded with pleasure. "Jungwon-you are the first...” He froze for a moment, his gaze becoming darker and more intense.

'Oh?' His thrusts became more decisive, deeper as if he wanted to imprint his mark on you indelibly.

'Tell me again who you belong to,' he ordered, the tone more authoritarian now. You groaned, your arms clasped around his neck. "Only you"

A satisfied growl escaped from his lips as he increased the pace, his breathing getting heavier. The heat in your belly grew more and more, and you felt the tension build up inside you, your body responding perfectly to its movements. And then, suddenly, you felt something change. A primal heat spread through your body, more intense than anything you had experienced before. Your breath stopped for a moment as you felt something swell inside you, filling you even more. Node.

Your eyes widened as your hands slid down her back. "J-Jungwon..." you whisper, in an unsure tone. "Is it... is it the knot?"

He looked down at you, his smile slightly mocking. ‘Mh? You’re really not very perceptive for someone who studies veterinary on hybrids...’

You felt blushing, but any protest died on your lips as he pushed even deeper, increasing the pressure within you.

‘See?’ He whispered against your mouth, kissing you slowly as it kept moving.

‘Now you really know what it means to be mine.’

Your body trembled, every nerve lit by the heat and sense of fullness that increased with each push. It was too much. It was everything.

And when the plane knot swelled completely, sealing you to it, you felt a wave of pleasure crossing you, leaving you breathless.

Jungwon leaned over you, forehead against yours, breathless as his hands caressed you softly. ‘Good girl,’ he whispered, leaving a kiss on your cheek.

He slid his hand along your belly, touching you with exasperating slowness. The knot within you pulsed slightly, and the sensation made you shudder.

‘So tight to me...’ he whispered, His voice full of desire. ‘Tell me, baby, has your textbook ever told you what it feels like to be filled with a hybrid?’

You bit your lip, trying to maintain a minimum of lucidity, but your body was already yielding to pleasure.

"N-no..." you panicked, your breath breaking as he kept teasing you with small movements of the pelvis.

Jungwon laughed softly, his tone a mixture of satisfaction and fun. ‘Then you are really lucky to have me... To make you feel everything on your own skin.’

His hand slid lower still, and his fingers touched the point where you were united, collecting some of the heat that flowed from you. He brought it before your eyes, watching with a smug grin your embarrassed reaction.

‘Look at you...’ he murmured, taking His fingers to His lips and tasting you slowly. ‘You’re all wet for me... so obedient... so mine.’

Your face caught fire, and Jungwon seemed to adore your embarrassed expression. He slowly leaned over you, brushing your lips. ‘Tell me what you want, baby. I want to hear you beg.’

You shivered beneath him, your body moving unintentionally to seek more contact. "I want..."

He sank his light nails into your hips. ‘Speak well. I want to hear every single word come out of that pretty mouth.’

Swallowing hard, the knot inside you that pressed gently against your walls. Your body was on fire, your mind completely clouded. "I want... I want you to fill me up... and louder please fill me up like a cat."

Jungwon smiled a satisfied and predatory smile. ‘So good...’

His thrusts reclaimed, more sails but incredibly deep, making you completely lose control. Your body trembled beneath him, every fiber of you seeking more, more, more. Your pussy couldn’t stop grabbing it and rebutting it against you, Jungwon brought his mouth to your ear, his voice a harsh whisper. ‘You feel so full, don’t you? Can you feel my knot swell inside of you? At this point, you should know that you can’t run away anymore...’

Groans, hands clutching desperately behind his back. "J-Jungwon..."

He laughed softly, kissing your jaw before leaving you a light bite. ‘Oh, baby... you’re so lost now.’

His fingers found your center, playing with you as his thrusts became more intense and animate. Every fiber of your body vibrated, the knot inside you pulsed in a way that made you lose your head.

‘Oh, yes...’ Jungwon whispered, squeezing your hips as he sank deeper. ‘You were born for this, to be under me, to welcome me completely...’

You panicked hard, your body bowing under him. "Yes... yes... Jungwon..."

‘Tell me whose you are.’

"I am yours..." you replied without hesitation, your heart beating madly.

A satisfied growl vibrated in her chest. ‘Good girl.’

The pleasure exploded inside you, leaving you completely breathless as your body huddled around its knot. Jungwon held himself over you, his breath broken as he filled you completely.

The knot swelled completely, sealing you to him, and you groaned at the feeling of being entirely his.

Jungwon stood over you, his eyes still dark with desire, his body not letting go of yours. Slowly, she lowered herself on you, pressing a languid kiss on your lips.

‘You are perfect so...’ she whispered against your skin. ‘Mine. Completely mine.’

And at that moment, lost in its warmth, in the beating of its heart against yours, you knew you could never be anyone else’s, Jungwon’s breath was still irregular as his body relaxed against yours. The knot had finally deflated, leaving a trail of languishing heat between your legs. But instead of walking away, he stood there, his chest pressed against your back, his face hidden in the hollow of your neck.

He left you a little bit on your skin before licking you flat, his feline way of marking what was his. You shivered at the sensation, a warm shiver that ran through your spine.

Jungwon laughed softly at your skin. ‘You’re still so sensitive...’ he whispered, his tone filled with satisfaction.

You were leaning towards him, feeling him still against you, warm and present. "Mh... enough, you tickle me..." You chuckled, trying to move slightly.

But in the movement, you felt something.

You get stiff.

Its length is still pressed against you, not completely hard... but not completely extinguished.

You barely lifted your head to look at him, standing in front of his slightly shiny eyes, his most vulnerable expression I had ever seen. He seemed confused, almost frustrated.

"Jungwon...?" you called softly.

He snorted, sinking his face in your hair. ‘Ugh... it’s not fair,’ he murmured against your skin. ‘I still want you.’

The heat went up to your cheeks as he drew even closer to you, almost as if he wanted to merge with your body. His hands slid slowly down your hips, caressing you with a dangerous delicacy.

‘I want to fill you again...’ he whispered, the tone sweet, but the words dangerously sinful. ‘ i want to make you mine again and again and again.’

A shiver ran through your body. It wasn’t just desire what you saw in his eyes. It was obsession.

You lightly sunk into his arms, looking at him with a funny smile. "Again?" You teased him, biting your lip. "You’re so insatiable, Wonnie..."

He stared at you, his eyes darkening. ‘Are you too tired for my second knot?’ He asked, the warm and low voice as one of His hands crept between your thighs, touching your still sensitive and swollen clitoris.

You flashed, a groan escaped from your lips as its skilled touch made you shiver.

Jungwon grinned. ‘Strange... your body seems to tell me otherwise.’

You gave him a look, but the redness on your cheeks only made him more amused. "Jungwon... I-"

‘Shh.’ He leaned over you, licking the lobe of your ear before whispering dangerous words to you. ‘Leave it to me, get on all fours you just have to be my good human girl.’

You turn your belly down with the beautiful show of your ass and Jungwon moans at the sight of you so embarrassed but also excited about what you were going to do, your little pussy emanated a heavenly smell for the hybrid and the sight of your excitement slowly descending beneath you made him growl. His hands go over your hips to guide you, and you feel Jungwon’s arm under you, wrapped around your stomach as he lifts you up, lowers himself and kisses you on the temple.

‘Ready, baby, to be filled again?’ You look up at him and your eyes tear slightly from the overstimulation that will come against you, and groan when you feel a finger of Jungwon enter you again.

"Wonnie, please..." you said sighing

‘So fucking sexy, you’re so fucking beautiful like that, baby,’ groans behind you, making you clench awkwardly as a soft chuckle resounds behind you and he sinks for the third time another finger inside you and pumps it, You screamed of pleasure because it was too much but he did not seem to care anything, his cock was again big and could not wait to fill you again and while you felt that you were coming he let out the finger from your poor pussy and yelled.

‘God, you’re so embarrassing little one,’ he said laughing as he lined up his big cock, the tip of his dick touching your pussy again, poking at your clitoris, and making you weep with needy names.

He can’t help but moan as he starts grinding the head of her cock against your folds.

‘Oh fuck,’ he says in a husky voice.

Breathless, you grab the sheets and hold them tight in your hands, while your ass and back rise slightly to feel it even more inside you.

"Fuck me, Wonnie, I want to hear you again".

Jungwon does not waste any more time and aligns itself to your entrance and pushes its length into you by sliding in until it is pressed all the way down. You groan in the hollow of your elbow, and your walls pulsate, full and so sensitive, he leans forward until his chest is flush with your back and the tip of his cock presses on your G-spot.

‘Do you feel good? Who would have thought that my roommate could take my cock so well’ whispers in your ear and you can only whine and nod.

‘This pussy is all mine, isn’t it?’ asks with clenched teeth as you hear his tail give you small slaps against the legs, nibbling on your shoulder skin, and starts rubbing his hips against you, rubbing his cock on your G-spot over and over again.

"Yes, all yours, please fill me up," whispers, gasping and he wasted no time starts pushing in and out his cock and as first you felt again that inhumane and visceral heat enveloping your body and especially the lower part of your belly, Your mouth opens immediately for the sensual sensation of being stretched and tied to him and you feel your belly full again.

‘No one else?’ He’s humming as if he didn’t already know.

"No, just your Jungwon" when he heard those words his knot tied you completely and you came together making a mess in his dick and him filling you again.

The sound of the storm roaring outside the window seemed farther away now, but the strong gusts of wind still shook the house. Jungwon was there, holding onto you, as if your presence was the only thing that could reassure him.

‘Are you really this calm when there’s a storm, Y/n?’ Jungwon asked, his voice a little lower, almost shy, as if embarrassed by his own behavior. He cuddled up even closer, his warm body pressed against yours, seeking comfort in your embrace.

‘I don’t understand… sometimes, when the noise is too loud, it feels like… it invades me completely. It’s strange.’

You felt tender toward him, even though his proximity made your heart race. You’d never seen Jungwon so vulnerable. His usual playful attitude was now replaced by a need for protection he couldn’t hide. With a gentle smile, you hugged him a little tighter.

“You know, as much as you may seem like a wild cat, you do like feeling safe, don’t you?” you asked, gently stroking his hair.

Jungwon lifted his head to look you in the eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips. ‘Everyone needs to feel safe,’ he said, but his tone immediately shifted to something more mischievous. ‘Though, sometimes, I think you’re protecting me from… something more intense than just a storm.’

You stirred slightly but didn’t pull away. “Well, it’s not like I mind holding you tight, Jungwon. Seems like you need me, huh?” you said, the warmth of your voice blending with the sweetness of the moment. You liked teasing him, seeing that spark of interest in Jungwon’s eyes.

He lowered his gaze, pretending to appear unfazed, but his eyes sparkled with a different light, one that spoke of hidden desire. ‘You’re right. I need you… more than you think. Especially when you make me feel… so real.’ His hand, which had been resting on your side, began to slowly slide down your back in a provocative manner, making you shiver under the touch.

The tension between the two of you was palpable, and despite trying to keep a light tone, you couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh.

"Oh, so you’re helpless, huh? You didn’t look helpless at first, it seemed to me that you had a lot of weapons at your disposal," you replied, as your eyes lowered to his lips.

Jungwon didn’t miss a chance. ‘It’s not just the weapons I have... it’s also my instincts’ he said with a dangerous grin, ‘can’t be ignored for long.’

A shiver ran down your spine. " Oh, really? And what will you do with all these 'instincts', Jungwon?" he chuckled and pinched your side and told you to stop

"You know...I’m really curious to see what it’s like when you’re in heat."

Jungwon, in a moment, became more serious, and his breath became heavier. ‘Oh, Y/n, you have no idea what can happen when I’m in heat. But I will tell you something...’ he whispered, bringing his mouth to your ear, his warm breath against your skin. ‘If you liked it so much when I filled you up before. Wait until I’m really in heat. It will be an experience you’ll never forget.’

A shiver ran down your back, but you couldn’t hide your smile. "I can’t wait to find out, Jungwon. But I hope you’ll be ready to handle it, because... I warn you, I have my ways of making you lose your head."

His hands gently grabbed your face, forcing you to look at it. ‘Oh, I will. I promise you that I will be as intense as possible. And when that time comes... you will not run away.’

The game between you two became more and more electric and yet there was a sweetness in all this, as if, under each provocative word, there was also a hidden love. And as the storm raged outside, within you was only the warmth of a bond that was growing ever stronger.

—————————————————————

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[mead-iocre]

Wife? | Leah Williamson x Reader

synopsis: "accidentally" calling Leah "wife"

warnings: none

wc: 3.7k words

There is another new tiktok trend. 

Again, not a viral dance routine.

This one was definitely more nerve-wrecking than the one you did a few weeks ago. With the other tiktok trend, you could pretty much predict how your girlfriend was going to react. However, with this one, it could go either way. 

The good thing was that the trend itself was still a fairly simple one. All you need to do was to call your boyfriend/girlfriend “husband” or “wife”, and film their reaction. 

From the embarrassingly long time you’ve spent scrolling through videos of other couples doing the trend, most of the reactions have been pretty positive. The ones getting pranked either grew shy or reacted excitedly at their new nickname– kissing their partner and playing it up with the camera. However, there was a video that you saw where the reaction was exactly what you were afraid of. A viral video of one couple, where the man getting pranked reacted quite cruelly. He immediately shut down the implications of the new nickname, leaving his girlfriend awkwardly staring at the camera in shock.

You just prayed Leah wouldn’t react as bad as that. 

Marriage was something you and Leah had talk about before. In passing. It was always a fleeting part of the conversation, something that never really went beyond the mutual agreement that you both saw yourself getting married one day. Whether that marriage was to each other was never really a topic of conversation. However, you could see yourself being married to her. Early mornings would be a hectic time since you both had had to leave for practice early. Afternoons on the weekdays would probably be spent having brunch by the river with friends, or spending time at home cuddled up on the sofa while a football match is blasting in the tv. Evenings would be spent cooking together, or arguing about who should be the main builder for the latest Ikea furniture that was purchased.

You just hoped she pictured a similar future. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Hey everyone!” You smile brightly, waving at your phone’s front camera. A flood of hearts started floating across the screen, comments pouring in. Your phone is propped nicely by the new tripod your girlfriend had recently gotten for you. Leah had grown tired of you using random bits around the house to prop your phone up everywhere you had to do your tiktok lives, grumbling about how you always forget to put things back where they belong so she had to do it for you. 

In the middle of Leah’s kitchen, you were stood on the other side of the island, checking over the ingredients one more time. The kitchen around was a charming, lived-in space, with mismatched mugs hanging from hooks and spices haphazardly arranged on a shelf.  You were dressed in your favourite comfy loungewear set, your hair cascading down your back, and fuzzy slippers on your feet. You loved filming these tiktok videos and fans often left suggestions for your next video. However, what you enjoyed more was having someone with you to film. Usually, you could rope a teammate or two to participate in the latest tiktok dance, but other times, when you begged hard enough, you could sometimes convince Leah to film with you. 

Leah, oblivious to the prank looming ahead, was standing right beside you. Clad in a worn-out vintage arsenal t-shirt and grey nike track bottoms, she leans casually against the counter, arms clasped behind her back. Her hair is tied away from her face in a loose ponytail, short strands of blonde hair framing her face. After much nagging (and kisses), she agreed to go on live with you again. 

“I’ve gotten quite a few requests to have Leah back for another video.” You gesture to the blonde right beside you. “And I know you guys really enjoyed the last cooking live where we attempted to make Leah’s infamous pasta dish–“

“Which is a Williamson secret recipe mind you” Leah interjects with a signature finger point at the camera. “You lot should be grateful I shared it!”

amanda: first time im joining a live!!!! hellooo

maise: pls say JONAS OUT!

woso.fc: I made it and it was actually really good

katiesgirl: leah looks gooddddd. respectfully, y/n MOVE

“Yeah well thanks for sharing the recipe, Lee. Who knew a basic bolognese sauce and some pasta would taste so good”

“Oi! You love my pasta!”, Leah exclaims as she points at you accusingly. 

You laugh loudly, head thrown back. “To be fair the pasta that Leah makes is quite good” 

“good? good. mate you go for seconds–” You place your palm over her mouth to shush her, playfully glaring at her. The delicate skin around corner of her eyes wrinkle in amusement.

“Alright. I'll admit it. Your pasta is delicious.”

Leah pulls your hand away from her mouth, pressing a quick kiss on the back of it, and keeping it held hostage in hers. 

“Okay. Let’s get started. Today we will be making red velvet cupcakes!”, You turn to the blonde beside you, squeezing the hand that she was holding, practically bouncing on your toes in excitement. Red Velvet cupcakes were one of your favourite treats and Leah knew exactly how much you were craving it lately, hence why she had no complaints when you suggested the recipe. 

“But…”, Pausing for dramatic effect. You grab the box of ready-to-make mix and show it off to the camera. “We’ll be using cake mix to cut time”

The comments flood through- probably laughing at you for cheating the recipe. You were so excited for the cupcakes that you almost forgot that you were supposed to also be doing a prank on your girlfriend.  

Pulling out a mixing bowl from the cupboard and a couple of measuring cups, you set them on the counter with a clatter. “So, step one!” Leah read aloud, reading from the back of the box. “Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.”

You turn around to the oven behind you, dramatically turning the dial on the oven, earning a sarcastic round of applause from the chat and a few teasing comments.

“Now,” she continued, tearing open the box, “we need to pour this into the bowl. I think this is the most technical part.” She dumped the powdery cake mix into the bowl, a small cloud of white dust puffing into the air, making you both cough and laugh. You leaned in closer, your shoulder brushing Leah’s as you worked together, the warm glow of the kitchen light casting a soft shadow over your figures. 

You moved through the steps, laughter echoing as you watched Leah comically crack the eggs into the ball, exaggerating her movements and making faces at you. You glance at the chat that was a constant stream of comments and emojis. “I feel like we’re on a cooking show, but with way more judgment.”

“You lot can’t judge! we’re professional footballers— not professional bakers,” she warned playfully waving the spatula in the air. You giggled as you poured in the vegetable oil, watching the amber liquid sink into the cake mix. “Someone just asked what flavour of cake we’re making,” she read aloud. “It’s red velvet! Her favourite” Leah points a finger at you. 

“I wish more weddings served red velvet. It’s always vanilla or lemon— red velvet is superior!” Turning to the camera, you wave the whisk around. “I’d serve red velvet cake at my wedding” 

You don’t weren’t a hundred percent certain, but you swear you heard Leah mutter “noted” under her breath, but you pay it no mind. Maybe it was you brain playing tricks on you. 

The both of you two exchanged amused glances as the sound of the stand mixer continued to fill the room. It was then you noticed the a smudge of white flour on her chin, the pale powder a contrast to her lingering tan from your last holiday. How she even managed to get flour on her chin, you have no idea. 

“Look at me, love” Leah turns her attention from the chat back to you with an eyebrow raised. You gesture for her to turn her cheek to the other side so you can wipe away the dust of flour. Thumbing it away gently, you grin at her and whisper “messy girl” only for her ears. 

Unable to resist, Leah sneaks a quick kiss, planting a peck on your lips. You get a quick whiff of white musk and pear before you felt her lips soft against your own. Between the two of you, Leah was always more affectionate, uncaring for any eyes and attention from others around you. You, however, were shy by nature; however you weren’t opposed to how much your girlfriend loved on you so you gladly welcomed her affection.

“Thanks, baby” She whispered back to you, kissing the crown on your head since you were bowing your head, trying to hide your cheeks that you had no doubt were blushing bright red as of that moment. “Okay! Now we have to pour this into the pan and wait!”

As she carefully tipped the bowl over a greased cake tin, the batter flowed smoothly into it, spreading out evenly. “I’m actually enjoying this. Reckon I should quit football?” she said,  turning to you with a grin on her face. She taps the bowl to get the last bit of batter out. 

“Let’s perfect this recipe first, Lee. And stay with the football thing for now” 

lacy: stick to football we need youuuu

paige: no leah no arsenal

stephanie: Leah on Great British Bakeoff when?

awfcsgirl: im craving red velvet cupcakes now 

“Now into the oven it goes!”

You opened the oven door with a mock bow, and she slid the cake pan inside. Closing the door together, you give the camera a triumphant look. “And now we wait!” you say, leaning against the counter with a grin.

The live chat was buzzing with messages, some asking about decorating, others just enjoying the playful banter. Leah grabbed her phone to read a few comments. “People are really invested in what we’re going to top this with,” he laughed. “I’m thinking frosting. Lots and lots of frosting.”

You both moved to the kitchen table, pulling up chairs to chat with the audience while the cake baked. The timer on the oven ticked softly in the background. The conversation was relaxed and easy, filled with laughter as you both responded to questions from the chat. Every now and then, you would glance over at the oven, impatient, and Leah would joke about how you had the patience of a toddler.

When the timer finally beeped, you both jumped up, racing to the oven. The scent of baked goods filled the kitchen as she carefully opened the door and pulled the tray out, red and perfectly risen. “Look at that! It didn’t burn” she exclaimed, holding it up for the camera.

After letting it cool for a few minutes, you got to work on the frosting, spreading a generous layer of cheese cream cheese frosting over each of the cupcakes. The soft white contrasting beautifully with the deep red.

“There you have it!” she said, holding the cupcake you were working on for the final reveal. “From cake mix to masterpiece, with love and a little help from you guys!”

You turn towards the camera. “All right, guys. We’re about to do a taste test. Red velvet cupcakes, made from scratch, and zero fire alarms were set off in the process. A win for us.” 

“Moment of truth,” Leah whispered, glancing over at you with a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. You nodded, handing Leah a cupcake, your fingers brushing against each other as you exchanged the treats. You caught her eye and smiled, a playful glint in your gaze. And if Leah was paying attention to you she would’ve noticed the way you were pressing your lips together and nervously shifting on your feet, a telltale sign that you were up to something. However, your girlfriend was completely oblivious. She was already too focused on the cupcake in her hand, studying it like it was a masterpiece.

“Ready?” You asked, holding your cupcake up for the camera. Then, without any ceremony, you each took a bite at the same time. Leah took a generous mouthful of the soft, velvety cake, while you hesitated for a second; debating on whether now was the right time.

You took a smaller bite and instantly the rich, velvety cake melted on your tongue. The sweetness mixed perfectly with the tang of the cream cheese frosting. You closed her eyes, letting out a quiet hum of approval, savouring the flavour of your favourite sweet treat. When you opened your eyes again, you found Leah already watching you, her lips dusted with frosting. She grinned at you in approval, and prepared to take another big bite of the cupcake. As you watched her chew thoughtfully, you took your chance.

“You look like you’re enjoying it. Let’s let my wife give her review first” You said, your voice surprisingly dripping with casual nonchalance, as if you hadn’t just thrown a verbal grenade into the middle of your taste test. Instead, the endearment came out quite naturally from your lips.

Leah froze mid-chew. Her eyes wide, she slowly turned towards you, cupcake still in hand, as the word wife echoed in her mind.

“Wife?” She managed to say through her mouthful of cake, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. In the warm glow of the lights, you can see the slight flush of her cheeks, though she tried to cover it by taking another bite; her eyes narrowed at you, who was now struggling to contain your laughter.

The TikTok chat went wild.

awfc_fc: WIFE???

sav: Did she just say WIFE??

liv: DID I MISS A CHAPTER WHAT

zachary: WIFE??? HELLO?!

Unable to hold it in anymore, you burst into laughter, the kind that made you double over and clutch at your stomach. “What? It was an accident,” you say, though the mischievous twinkle in your eyes said otherwise.

Leah swallowed her bite, narrowing her eyes at you, though you can see a smile tugging at her lips. “An accident? Really?”

Wiping a tear from the corner of your eye, you straightened up, still grinning. “Yeah, it slipped out. Didn’t mean to call you my wife, love.” You sneak a quick wink at the camera. 

The blonde shook her head, trying to stay serious, but the grin she was holding back finally broke through. “You’re lucky this cupcake is so good, or else I’d throw this at you right now.”

“Oh, c’mon, you love it,” You teased, taking a victorious bite of your own cupcake. Now that the prank was over, you can freely enjoy the sweet treat. “And, technically, I’m not wrong. I mean, future wife, right?”

Leah felt her heart skip at that as she continued to gaze at you. She watched you enjoy your cupcake, humming after every bite. Your earlier words still hung in the air, lingering and nagging.

In the midst of you enjoying your treat, you noticed a small shift in her expression. Your teasing demeanour melted a little, ever so slightly. You tilted your head at her, trying to read the expression on her face. “I mean… eventually, right?” You asked, quieter this time, like you hadn’t meant for those words to slip out either.

Leah’s heart fluttered again at the way your voice caught slightly against the back of your throat when you spoke. Like there was a blanket of uncertainty and doubt over your words, which was a rarity for someone as self-assured as you.

She cleared her throat, feeling it tighten and clog as a result of the palpable tension in the air. This raw, vulnerable moment awarded a fleeting pause in the midst of a long day filled with football practice, article deadlines, red velvet cupcakes, and now sudden talks of the future-- it was overwhelming.

As you both sat in brief silence, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. Every heartbeat seemed louder than the last.

Always the fixer, Leah broke the silence first. She cleared her throat again, rolling her eyes playfully at you, trying to steer the mood back to light. She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe. Are you rushing me? Otherwise I wouldn't put up with your pranks and accidents." The last bit was accompanied by finger air quotes.

She felt you were rushing her?

You looked down at your half eaten cupcake, absentmindedly tracing the edge of the wrapper. The prank was meant to be fun, but as the words "future wife" slipped from your lips earlier, you noticed the way leah's smile faltered, just for a second. Barely noticeable, but it was like a neon sign in your mind, glaring and buzzing, leaving your stomach knotted.

Had you unintentionally placed a burden on her?

You forced a smile, hoping it masked the uncertainty bubbling inside. It wasn’t like you meant to bring up marriage all the time—well, maybe you did. Looking back, it was always you initiating the conversation on marriage or your future together. But it was hard not to. After three years together, you could already picture every detail: the dress, the flowers, the vows. It was all so clear in your head, yet now it felt like you was rushing towards something Leah hadn’t even fully considered.

The uncertainty now gnawed at you. Part of you wanted to blurt out, “Are we okay? Do you really feel that I'm rushing you?” But the fear of hearing something you weren't ready for kept you quiet. Instead, you leaned back in your chair, feigning relaxation, while your thoughts swirled like a storm you couldn’t control.

"I really got you there, didn't i?" You tried to lighten the mood with another joke. “Who would’ve thought I could leave Thee Leah Williamson speechless by calling her my wife”

Shit.

Silence. 

Silence.

Silence.

There you go again, carelessly throwing the word away without making sure she was comfortable. You wanted to smack your head against the table, mentally cursing yourself. Maybe she really wasn't comfortable with the implications of that word yet. Maybe it was too soon.

Thinking you had made the moment awkward again, you try to backtrack. “I-I didn't mean--I'm not rushing you. At all. I was kidding--“

“Baby” 

You ignore her at first, turning to the camera to cover up your embarrassment. You desperately try to settle the way your heart was practically beating out of your chest. Maybe this prank wasn’t such a good idea in the first place.

“Baby”

You finally look at her. You lips were pressed tightly in a line, ready to end the live if she said the word.

“I got it.”

You tilt your head, furrowing your eyebrows, very confused by what she meant. “Wha–“

“I heard you the first time” You really couldn't read the expression on her face right at that moment. However, the corners of her lips were tipped up slightly, which is a good sign. 

You did not expect to hear the next thing that came out of her mouth. 

“I’ve already got the ring. I plan on marrying you. Just give me a minute to plan something, yeah?”

Your breath hitched, heart thudding in your chest as your eyes widened. You stared at the blonde, completely caught off guard, as if the rest of the world went still for a moment. Her expression was soft, teasing still, but there was something undeniably real in her eyes.

You opened her mouth to say something—anything—but words seemed to escape you. This time, it was you who was rendered speechless. You had known that a proposal might come sometime soon. In fact, you had been having thoughts about proposing to her yourself, but getting confirmation that she was thinking about it too has caught you completely off guard. But it was just like Leah to throw you completely off guard when she proposes. This was probably the most Leah-proposal ever. 

meademaa: CHAT IS THIS REAL

mac: I HEARD HER SAY RING DID SHE SAY RING

lacely: NO FCUKING WAY

goonerrr: PAUSE DID SHE JUST

“I know you lot aren’t acting surprised!” Leah turns her head towards the camera with a little laugh, completely oblivious to the fact that you still hadn’t spoken a word for over a minute or so– which was a new record for a yapper like you. 

You were usually quick-witted and composed, but in this moment, you felt utterly stunned, as if time had slowed to a crawl. Finally, you snapped out of it and turned towards the camera. There might be tears already welling in your eyes and your voice might’ve come out a bit shaky but no one could blame you. 

“R-right then. We’re ending the live here. Thanks for watching, everyone!” You round the kitchen counter hastily, practically speed-walking to turn off the recording button. You give the camera one more watery smile and wave, eyeing the flood of comments who are already giving ‘congratulations’ messages. 

alessiasextensions: DID WE JUST WITNESS A PROPOSAL

lessifc: CONGRATS MOTHESR

amber: wheres my invite to the wedding????

jordy: might cry or something 

You turn around to face your girlfriend– soon fiancé perhaps. You couldn't help but admire the way her eyes sparkled, the blues reflecting the gentle glow of the setting sun. Every feature of her face was etched into your memory – the curve of her smile and the crinkle at the corners of her eyes when she laughed.

Leah was in the midst of bringing another cupcake to her lips, and she’s got the widest grin on her face. She also looked lighter, more relaxed somehow, like she'd been finally free of a heavy load that's been weighing her down.

And in that moment, as your eyes meet hers, you knew with absolute certainty that you would wait for however long it took for her to ask you the question. You knew the moment you met her she would be someone special to you, so you could afford to wait a little longer. Besides, you already knew your answer. It would be the easiest ‘yes’ in your life. 

Sitting back in your seat beside her, you narrow your eyes slightly, pointing a finger at her.

“I want you down on one knee when you propose for real, you cheeky fucker” 

this has been in my drafts for a whiiiiile. i wrote and rewrote this one so many times until i was satisfied with how it played out.

dedicating this fic to the anon who gave me the idea back in march and everyone else who was waiting so patiently for it to escape the WIP jail lol.

hope it was worth the long wait <3333

comments and reactions appreciated!

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[softsunnyy]

hi!!! i just saw your luke hughes thing and I LOVE IT 🥰 but I’m more of a jack girlie so could you write about jack being protective to you after some crazy devils fan is rude to you?

hi sweetie!! sorry it took me a couple days, hope u like it <33

here's some angsty and fluffy Jack just for u

the place was electric, full with fans wearing your boyfriend's team jerseys, and many wearing his last name on the back. Lights illuminating the ice, music filling your ears. People drinking, smiling children, couples in love, and friends betting. 

today would be different tho, because you'll sit close to the ice, away from your friends who usually sat higher up. Jack asked you, convincing you with a couple of kisses and sweet words that made you giggle with love. 

the Devils are facing the Flyers, and you hope it´ll be one of those games that has you on the edge of your seat, screaming and cheering. 

your boyfriend's team has been going through a rough patch, with some heartbreaking losses and others really frustrating.

you had seen Jack in a bad mood, frustrated with himself, and receiving constant talks from different people telling him to just shoot the puck.

you´re his support, even before you were a couple. You keep him grateful, reminding him why he loves what he does so much every day. You help him enjoy, but also process his emotions, giving him a safe space to be himself; away from the cameras, the press, the judging eyes and the cruel questions. 

your relationship is not that new, but for months no one outside your private circle knew about it. You both preferred it that way; private. Unfortunately, one night a video was leaked of the two of you in your car, arriving at a game when some fans stopped you. Since then you´ve also been part of his public life, where some of his fans love you, talking about how happy you make him; and others hate you, saying that the Devils' recent results are due to you and your relationship with their star. 

you usually try to avoid these comments, knowing full well that most of them come from people who are frustrated, and who are trying to find a reason, someone to blame, so they don't get angry with their team anymore. You understand it, you don't share it, but you can understand where they´re coming from, and you try your best not to take it too personally.

when the game started, the speed was incredible, mesmerizing. Your eyes move, following the players. You cheer, you get angry, you get happy. You're caught up in the game, becoming one with the people in the crowd, hoping that luck will be in your favor that night. 

the first two periods were tense. Some stupid penalties, many shots on goal, but no goals. The crowd is hungry. The chants from the fans are incredibly loud, stunning you. 

anxiety consumes you, you want the game to move forward, for the boys to win. Besides being Jack's girlfriend, you're a fan of the sport, you understand what you're watching and you get to a point where your emotions depend a little on how that game went. 

you get frustrated, you get happy, you live it as if you were playing. You even try to learn from the players, giving your boyfriend some advice when you sit on the couch to watch the replay, making him notice certain details that can help him.

that's why you feel devastated. With only 20 seconds left, in a 0-0 game, one of them steals the puck from Jack and scores the winning goal, in front of a stunned, hopeless arena, that went completely silent for a few seconds. 

you see the faces of the team as they begin to surrender, sighing, convincing themselves that in the remaining seconds they´re not gonna be able to do anything. 

but what hurts you the most is seeing Jack's face, and the way it fills with frustration. His stick crashed on the ice when he returned to the bench 

it's a depressing end to a game that everyone thought would end differently. You could already see the articles for the next few hours, or the cruel comments from the reporters. Everyone questioning Jack, like in his first season. 

with a sigh you get up, ready to buy something to drink before approaching the locker room, knowing that the boys would take a while before coming out. 

as you went to buy a coffee, you tried to be quick, trying not to be seen. You thought you won, but as you were on your way to the locker room, with your coffee in hand, someone called your name, making you turn around, with tense shoulders and somewhat confused. 

“yes?” you asked, seeing a man, somewhat drunk, approach you.

“you should tell your boyfriend to learn how to play, y´know?” he said, slurring his words and standing a little too close for your liking. You frowned, moving away slightly as you tried not to grimace at the smell of alcohol reaching your face. 

“sure... have a good night,” you said quietly, trying to avoid the situation, feeling nervous with the interaction. 

“i always said that bitches make these players play like shit,” he said, ignoring the way you wanted to leave. “Jackie’s been playing like a pussy since he started dating you.” You tried to keep walking, but he was coming up behind you, his voice rising with every word. A few people turned to look, but kept walking, clearing that area in a matter of seconds as everyone left frustrated after that game. 

“excuse me, sir, i understand your frustration but…” you started to say, turning to look at him, your senses on alert and anxiety seeping into every part of your body. He interrupted you before you could finish. 

“no, you clearly don’t understand, you’re just a silly brat who’s ruining our star.” He approached you again, your hand gripping the coffee tighter, full of tension. 

“i’m sorry sir, i didn’t…”

“shut up!” he raised his voice, and a sharp pain settled in your chest. Your legs feel like jelly and you feel nauseous. You wanna run, scream, leave. You feel humiliated, scared, frustrated. You want to leave. You wanna throw your coffee and run to your car, away from people, away from that. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he asked you, frowning and getting dangerously close to you. 

at that moment a hand landed on your waist, fast, agile, and moved you backwards. Soon your boyfriend’s body was in front of you, facing the man, who opened his eyes wide, surprised. The man stammered, distracted, forgetting for a moment all the rage he felt. 

Jack was about to explode. He was coming out of the locker room, with Timo at his side. His head was somewhere else, and all he wanted was to take refuge in your arms and recharge his energy. It was a surprise when his teammate gently nudged him with his elbow to get his attention. 

his stomach dropped, his breath hitching. Anxiety, surprise, panic. He could see the way your body looked smaller and smaller.

he reacted automatically, moving before he could think twice. 

“man, what a surprise,” the man said, still disoriented. Jack could smell the alcohol on his breath and frowned. 

“do you have a problem?” he asked, his voice calm, although you noticed the coldness in his words. His arm stretched out at his side, preventing you from getting closer. 

the man laughed nervously and uncomfortably, not looking at you again, now with his eyes fixed on the floor. 

“i don’t wanna see you near her, if you have a problem, you can come talk to me or the coach, or whoever, but not her.” Jack stared at him. Out of the corner of your eye you saw everyone slowly getting closer. Timo had warned them. They were there, they were protecting you too. 

“yeah, i’m sorry,” the man muttered, his face and neck flushed and still looking at the floor. 

“don’t apologize to me man, apologize to her.” this time, Jack failed to hide the disgust in his voice, and he complied, looking at you with panicked eyes. 

“i’m sorry, kiddo, i actually like your relationship, i’m just a little frustrated.” he tried to laugh, but when no one laughed with him he just apologized and tried to leave as quickly as possible. They’ll have to keep an eye on him from now on, Jack thought.

when you saw him disappear behind the doors, the air left your lungs shakily, the now cold coffee almost slipping from your hand. Your body leaned forward, and your free hand rested on your thigh. Jack quickly turned to look at you, and with one of his hands he gently caressed your back. 

“are you okay, babe?” he asked in a sweet and low voice. He knew the answer, but he wanted to check that you were paying attention. You nodded in response, although both of you knew the truth. 

they gave you a few minutes to lower the tension, and then one by one the boys and your friends approached to make sure you were okay, wishing you two a good night and then saying goodbye. 

Luke isn't going to stay with you that night, since he won't be home. So before he left he came over to you to hug you tightly, almost breaking that image of security that you had tried to maintain. Whispers of comfort filled your ear before he pulled away, and with a small smile he left.

when you and Jack were alone, he took your hand and quickly led you to the car. You quickly climbed into the passenger seat, and when he sat down, it only took you a couple of seconds before you burst into tears. His arms wrapped around you tightly, moving your body and settling you on his lap. There, in his arms, was your safe place, where you could break and put yourself back together. 

Jack spent the night reminding you how important you are to him, because he would never let you forget that, but at the same time, you did not forget him, and you tried your best to comfort him. 

cuddled up in the bed you both share, you found your safe place again, where everything would be okay no matter what, because you have each other.

divider by: @cafekitsune

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact) Giving Headpats to Furina, Lynette, Arlecchino, Chiori, Lumine, Jean, Eula, Noelle, Ayaka, Sara, Yae, Shenhe, and Xianyun

No one requested this, as for the reason this post exists, the only thing I can give you is this image:

Furina freezes up the moment she feels S/O's hand pick up her hat, only to ruffle her hair.

She squawks for just a moment, quickly blushing and pouting as Furina yanks her hat down.

(Furina) "D-Don't just start patting me out of nowhere!"

Crossing her arms, she looks away, trying to not look bothered about the whole affair.

She finds it highly embarrassing. At least in public.

The moment they're alone and she feels their hand, she closes her eyes and completely relaxes, humming in content.

There's still a blush on her, but it's far more subdued unless S/O starts teasing her about it.

Lynette does not like just anyone rubbing her head due to her cat-like features.

In public, the top of her head in general is completely off limits.

But if it's just her and S/O at home, then she allows it.

In fact, when S/O's hand starts petting her head, she leans into them completely as her eyes close, just like an actual cat.

Her ears twitch a little, but her tail swishes left and right happily.

If they stop too early, Lynette's eyes slowly open and looks at them expectantly.

(Lynette) "...Why did you stop?"

Feeling the warm of their hand allowed Lynette to rest comfortably, and to space out to her heart's content.

Arlecchino did the same thing to comfort many of the children at the Hearth.

Yet she didn't know what to do when S/O did the same, feeling her hair slightly ruffled.

If her S/O was taller (in which case "Dude, you look huge"), she really wouldn't comment on the height difference, but if they were shorter, THEN she'd be surprised they would even attempt it.

Arlecchino doesn't care if it's in private or public, but she would care if they did so in front of her kids.

Because then they'd see that she has someone that can make her comfortable too, which in turn makes them happy.

Seeing their father cared for puts them at ease, making Arlecchino thankful in her own way.

But as for the action itself: she would just talk to them in her usual tone, though with a bit of a "threat" lying underneath.

(Arlecchino) "Did you wish for me to pat your head too, S/O? I might be rougher with you than the others."

Chiori raises an eyerbrow.

(Chiori) "S/O, what are you doing?"

Once they explain themselves, Chiori can't help roll her eyes.

(Chiori) "Did you expect me to get all flustered from that? Psh, it'll take a little more than messing up my hair to do that. Speaking of which, can you fix it for me? I'm a little busy here."

She finds it cute, yeah, but it's not that big of a deal.

Plus, she finds it weird.

Who just goes around, patting their girlfriends' heads unprompted?

Oh well, it's not like this was particularly harmful, so Chiori lets it slide.

But if they do that in front of customers or in public, S/O is dead.

Lumine's body stiffens when S/O's hand ruffles her hair lovingly, before she quickly giggles.

(Lumine) "Hey, stand still!"

She quickly does the same back, though her retaliation is far more playful and destructive.

S/O's hair is an absolute mess now, Lumine giving a cheeky grin back.

(Lumine) "There, now you look better than before!"

It does not take long for the situation to quickly devolve into a tickle fight with both of them on the bed laughing.

Jean takes a moment to register what S/O is doing, but after a few seconds she smiles.

Jean lets her shoulders drop, feeling more at ease by the second.

So this is how Barbara and Klee felt when she did the same.

(Jean) "Your hand feels quite nice, S/O..."

She doesn't realize her own flushed cheeks as her vision becomes slightly hazed with her affection.

If anything, she feels a little sad everytime they pull back.

It was such a relaxing sensation, and honestly made her feel a little sleepy.

Eula's head feels a bit colder to the touch, but her body is rapidly heating up, especially her face.

(Eula) "What do you think you're doing, S/O?"

Hearing their answer, Eula pauses for a moment before responding.

(Eula) "Next time, you should ask for permission instead of rubbing my hair like I'm some sort of child...I don't recall asking you to stop either."

In classic Eula fashion, she doesn't tell them directly that she loves the feeling of their hands.

But she'd be damned if she was going to admit something so embarrassing.

Noelle feels a mixture of pride and embarrassment everytime S/O pats her on the head.

On one hand it felt quite nice, and the gesture was very sweet!

But it made her feel a little childish.

She never voiced her latter feelings aloud, because it still made her flustered all the same.

(Noelle) "A-Ah...Um, thank you, S/O...!"

It made her want to do her best everytime just so she could receive such affection, and made sure to do it back to them!

But with her strength, she accidentally completely dishevels their hair.

Before promptly fixing it in nearly an instant with her skills as a dutiful maid!

Ayaka exhales deeply, any words she had completely fading away in bliss.

These were the kinds of moments Ayaka longed for, to simply share affection with a lover of her own.

It made her feel quite normal as opposed to the prim and proper noblewoman she was forced to be.

(Ayaka) "If I may be selfish for a moment, might I ask for you to continue...?"

She'd be a little embarrassed asking for more, but her shame vanishes the moment she feels their hand on her head again.

Ayaka is too shy to initiate the headpatting on her own, most of the time having her hand almost reach her S/O's head before pulling away last second.

Sara flinches and leans away from S/O on instinct.

(Sara) "What are you-...M-My apologies, I was just not expecting you to..."

Her hand fidgets for a moment before Sara lets out a sigh.

(Sara) "If you wanted to touch my hair, you can just ask."

Now that she was actually ready for S/O, she enjoyed the feeling of their fingers brushing against her hair.

It was relaxing as she let down her guard and enjoyed the physical affection.

Needless to say, Sara absolutely did not want S/O to do this in public.

Seeing Inazuma's general get pat on the head so lovingly would obliterate her image.

Yae smirks as she leans her head closer to them, not saying a word at first.

Her ears twitch for just a moment as she opens her mouth to speak.

(Yae) "Well, does my hair feel nice, S/O?"

And before S/O knows it, her tail wrapped around their waist before bringing them closer and her the back of her head is resting on their lap.

Yae's hand waves nonchalantly, and her tone growing increasingly ever more teasing.

(Yae) "I expect to be pampered properly, S/O. You can't leave a job half-finished after all!"

Now, Yae expects S/O to tend to her hair, in public or private, she doesn't really care.

As long as there were some good reactions from S/O both was fine, though in public tended to provide the funniest result.

...Oh, and their hands did feel nice. But she'd figure it'd be more entertaining to let S/O figure that one out themselves.

Shenhe knows this feeling well.

Cloud Retainer did the same thing whenever she meant to comfort her.

And of course, the feeling is much of the same when S/O does it to her.

WIth zero shame or hesitation, she closes her eyes and the corners of her lips grow into some semblance of a smile.

(Shenhe) "Your hands are soft, S/O...They feel good."

Instead of leaning into them, she grabs their entire arm and has their hand stay stuck in place.

But Shenhe is careful enough to not hurt them during the process.

She opens her eyes and calmly asks them:

(Shenhe) "Can you keep your hand in place for a little longer?"

Xianyun had provided much of the same comfort to all her disciples before.

But never has anyone attempted to pat her head.

So when she feels S/O's hands do the same motion, she is stunned for a few moments.

Clearing her throat and adjusting her glasses, she puts on the best poker face she can.

(Xianyun) "W-Why did you feel the need to rub One's head, One is not feeling upset."

...The blush on her cheeks gave her feelings completely away, if the stutter didn't already do that.

Xianyun is far too proud to admit that headpat made her heart skip, and she would refuse to ever do so.

A mortal patting an Adeptus' head? Absolutely ridiculous!

...She wanted S/O to do that again.

[no-144444]

marco polo- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve

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Things had been a little awkward since coming back to Monaco. Oscar had noticed the way you’d become a little bit more… closed off, or just a bit less talkative. That didn’t bother him. If Oscar Piastri could do anything, he could definitely talk. It took a few days for the two of you to get back into a flow of things, but no matter, he just kept suggesting things you could do together, and you didn’t have anything better to do, so off you went.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“When do you leave for Kigali?” Oscar asked, sipping on his smoothie. You’d think it wasn’t December with the Monaco weather around the two of you. You and Oscar had decided to go for a quick training session (in the form of a swim) before you left for the awards. The FIA prize-giving. The one night of your life that, if you could, you’d pay any half-good impersonator to be you, and you could fuck off and enjoy your break. 

That, alas, would not be happening this year. You had to go. You were World Champion after all. 

“Tomorrow morning I think,” you huffed, swiping your card into the gym. “Want to come by any chance?” you asked, awkwardly. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a date?”

You rolled your eyes, walking away. “I don’t want one,” you sighed. “I have you.”

And with that bombshell, you walked into the women’s dressing room. 

He genuinely didn’t know what to do for a solid minute. He just stood there, his arms out in front of him and his jaw dropped. One of the gym employees had to ask if he was alright. He went into the changing room with a lot on his mind. You hadn’t meant it like that, surely? 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You hadn’t meant it to sound like that, really. You just meant, ‘oh, I don’t want to bother with asking someone to go with me and dealing with the online chatter about the prospects of my dead dating life, and you’re here and my best mate and people know we’re mates so that’s easier and I’d have much more fun with you anyways so yeah’, but you seemed to have a way with words. A way that made everything coming out of your mouth to him, deeply, deeply awkward. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

He honestly couldn’t get over the earlier comment, but when you came out in a bikini, his brain stopped altogether. 

“25 metre pool… 40 laps?” you suggested, pulling on your goggles. Granted, the goggles made you look a little bit less sexy, but much more you, and he felt his shorts get tighter again. 

“Sounds good,” he nodded, following you into the pool. That did not sound good. Oscar was a good swimmer, but you went every day you could. He was fucked, but he didn’t notice that since he was too busy staring at you. 

You enjoyed swimming, you found it relaxed you. Your favourite was sea-swimming, but Monté-Carlo beaches are pretty swamped with fans, and you don’t enjoy people taking pictures of you in your swimming togs. You shot off in the pool, a simple breast stroke as Oscar followed behind you. After about 30 minutes, you’d done 46 laps, and Oscar had given up halfway through and had somehow ended up in a marco polo game with a few kids. When you walked over to get him, you sat at the edge of the pool, watching the game with a soft smile on your face. 

“Is that your girlfriend?!” one of the girls gasped. “She’s so pretty!”

Oscar opened his eyes and smiled when he found you, then he looked back at the girl. “She is, isn’t she?” 

The girl swam off again, giggling as she swam around one of her friends. He didn't deny it. He didn't try to correct her. He just smiled and agreed. As much as every voice in your head screamed that he should be ashamed of you, he never was. He wasn't ashamed of you

“You playing?” one of the teenage boys asked, coming up beside you and holding a hand out. 

You looked up to Oscar who smiled and nodded. “I’ll be on again,” he promised. 

You grinned. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Marco?” he called out. You’d both been playing with them for about 20 minutes, but you were genuinely having too much fun to notice. 

“Polo!” you called back, and he could hear the smile on your lips. God, it was good to hear you laugh again. The last triple header had been nothing but work (except from the party but he hadn’t had gained the courage to talk about that yet), and it was nice to see you let loose. 

He reached a hand out and brushed your midriff, making you laugh, and he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his arms, opening his eyes as he laughed with you. He loved this, loved you, loved being around you.

Your giggles died down, as did his and you smiled at him, looking up. “Alright?” he asked, pulling his arm around your shoulder as you both turned back to the kids. You nodded at him as they started explaining the next game to you both. You didn’t mind how his hand stayed around your shoulder. You didn’t mind it one bit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You ended up back at your house, enjoying the setting sun as Oscar cooked dinner on your barbeque. You were busy staring at your garden while he was busy staring at you (and the dinner). 

“I meant it earlier,” you told him, joining him beside the grill. “I want you to come to the awards.”

He shook his head, smiling. “Take someone else,” he insisted. 

“Who else would I take?” you questioned him. “Some random male celebrity who everyone will think I’m dating?”

He tried to ignore the fact that the thought of you with someone else made his stomach flip, but he couldn’t really. He turned to look at you. “People think we’re dating.”

You stared back at him for a second, then rolled your eyes. “That’s different.”

“How?” he pushed. Again, you just looked at him. It was weird. The air changed. 

“It just… is,” you said, your voice small. “Look, if you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. I was just asking because you’ve really been the only person there for me, and I think the trophy is as much yours as it is mine,” you huffed. 

He stilled for a moment. Of course he was going to go, from the second you asked. He’d literally do anything you asked. He just… he wanted to give you an out, just in case the offer wasn’t genuine. He was happy to say that it was. And he planned on taking it. 

“Of course I’ll come,” he smiled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders again, and pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “I love supporting you.” 

The both of you stilled. Your stomach churned and he just couldn’t believe what he’d done. He hadn't even meant to, it was a complete accident, but it happened. He liked it. He loved days like these, and he hoped that he hadn’t just fucked everything up with one little action. You honestly held your breath for a few seconds, shock taking over, then decided that it was alright, and leant into him more. 

“Thanks Osc.”

Like he’d said earlier, whiplash. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Oscar was an ‘Airport Dad’ in the worst sense of the word. He made sure you two got to the airport 3 hours early (you were flying private), made you triple check your passport and boarding pass three times before he let you get out of the taxi, and demanded the window seat you were sitting in even though it was a private plane. 

The plane ride was enjoyable though, a night of playing uno with him, Max, Charles, Yuki, and George. 

“He’s cheating!” George argued, slamming his cards down after Oscar won a fourth time. 

“How?!” Oscar laughed, arguing back as both Charles and Max rolled their eyes at him, throwing their cards on the table. 

“I don’t know, but he’s doing it!” George seethed, getting up. “I’m getting another drink and by the time I get back Y/n, I expect your race engineer to be sorted out!” 

You laughed at the exchange, taking no sides. Oscar turned to you with a bright smile and roll of his eyes while you started fixing the cards up for the next round.

“You two are insufferable, aren’t you?” Yuki sighed. 

“What do you mean?” you scoffed, throwing a card at him. 

“I’m so single!” he groaned, letting his head rest on the table. “You two keep reminding me of that!”

Max laughed as Yuki groaned again, and you gulped back a shocked chuckle. Oscar excused himself to the bathroom for a moment. 

“We’re not dating,” you reminded Yuki. 

He scoffed. “Yeah, it’s not like he’s madly in love with you or anything as well then,” You stared at him for a moment and he rolled his eyes. “I mean come on! The way that man looks at you? It’s insane!” 

You shook your head, brushing him off. “We’re friends, nothing more.” 

“Oh sure.” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You all landed and were driven straight to the arena to get ready. You were immediately thrown into makeup and getting dressed, and basically separated from Oscar because Max stole him away. 

You were nervous, there was no point in lying about it. You hated making speeches, you hated being on stage, and you hated being celebrated. You knew you just had to remind yourself that Oscar was somewhere in that audience and he was there for you. He didn’t care what happened, he’d sit there with a smile on his face no matter what. 

Knock knock. 

“We want to see the dress!” Max called from the other side of the door. Good thing you were almost ready. You smiled awkwardly as you opened the door, trying to show off the dress but it just ended up looking like a weird pose. Oscar’s jaw dropped anyway, but you didn’t see since Max was busy pulling you in for a hug. 

Oscar’s slacks got a lot tighter as he watched you in the dress, and he realised the night had become nearly impossible, but he’d do it for you. It would just be slightly tortuous. The way the dress clung to you made him crazy. The red, a stark contrast to the regular papaya racesuit or dark workout clothes he was used to seeing you in. It was maddening how badly he wanted to just reach out and smooth a hand on your hip, or just run a hand through your perfectly styled hair. You were goregous, to put it simply.

“What do you think?” you asked, your voice uncomfortable. 

He smiled down at you. “I think you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “I think you’re always beautiful.”

You wished he didn’t say the sweetest things. You still felt like you didn't deserve them. 

He knew you did.

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[losers-clvb]

rebounded dean winchester x sam's ex-girlfriend!reader

content: mentions of sam cheating on reader in the beginning, sam and dean are estranged brothers, dean gets competitive with sam, smut (grinding, fingering, dirty talk, finger sucking, nipple play, slight mentions of marking, incorrect use of kitchen table, unprotected piv penetration, breeding kink (but no actual breeding, trust, not in this economy!), very very very brief use of "daddy", praise), sam calls during the smut and they answer, fluff

word count: 3.2k

note: this is a part two to "rebound". special thanks to @amourcri3s and @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth for inspiring this in the comments. here is reader's revenge on toxic!sam.

Surprise, surprise, Sam Winchester broke your heart. Again.

You were sure it couldn’t get worse than this situation.

You had come home from work, already having a shitty day, and all you wanted to do was cuddle up into the arms of your boyfriend. Unfortunately, he already had someone cuddled up into his arms.

Though, it was technically less cuddled up and more him fucking up into her while pornstar-quality moans filled the space.

You don’t know how long you had stood in the doorway, just watching them with watering eyes. When Sam finally looked up, he wasn’t kind enough to look remorseful or even shocked.

“Come join us, baby.” Sam had beckoned to you. You had let out a cry in response, dropping your purse to the floor.

Fast forward a heartbreakingly long 72 hours and you were fumbling with the key to Sam’s own apartment. You knew he was gone. Mason had managed to track him down, finding his location to be in a different state with the same girl he had bouncing on his dick on your couch.

You needed to grab your things and run. You were never getting back together with him, and this, taking back the few possessions that you kept at Sam’s place, would help you fully get away from him.

You took in a breath before stepping inside, quietly closing the door behind you.

“Mmm, you are not my little brother.”

You jumped, a small shriek humming from your throat. What the hell? No one was supposed to be here.

Your eyes flew to the small couch in the corner of the living room space where a man, a very attractive man, sat with a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He smirked at you, tilting his head to the side.

“Who are you?” The hot guy asked. You shivered at the way he growled the last word.

“I’m just gonna go,” you mumbled, wrapping a hand around the door handle.

“You his girlfriend?”

Your fingers tingled with the familiar sensation you got when you were about to cry. Girlfriend. You weren’t, not after everything, but it was still hard to say out loud. You looked over your shoulder at the stranger, lip jutted out.

“Ah,” he sighed, like he knew about all the lies and manipulation just from your sad eyes. “What’d the bitch do?”

You blinked at him. Why did he care so much?

“Who are you?” You asked this time, voice small. He gave you a crooked smile.

“Dean.” When you furrowed your brows in confusion -- how were you supposed to know who Dean was? -- he continued. “Sammy’s big brother.”

“Oh.” Was all that you could say in response.

“He didn’t tell you about me.” Dean stated. He knew the answer.

After Dean caught his ex on her knees with Sam’s dick in her mouth just a week after they’d broken up, his and Sam’s fight had been too much to come back from. Fists flew, words were spat out, and Dean sped off in the Impala before he killed his little brother.

“I guess it slipped his mind while he was balls-deep in Kristy on my couch.” You immediately replied. You didn’t know where the sudden anger came from. Years of repressing it, maybe?

“You got a mouth on ya, sweetheart.” Dean smirked, enjoying every moment of this. He’d come to see Sam, maybe try to piece things back together since they were the only family they both had left. With you standing in front of him in the prettiest lavender dress he’d ever seen, he was quickly switching plans.

It was only fitting Dean sleep with Sam’s ex-girlfriend, just to even things out.

“Sorry.” You cringed at the apology that slipped out on instinct. Sam was always getting you to take the blame for things.

He had a bad day? It was all because you didn’t make his coffee in the morning. He flirted with a waitress? Well, maybe you should’ve given him head in the car before going into the restaurant. Even when he slept with other people, it was somehow your fault for not wanting to sleep with him the week beforehand. And you believed it every single time.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” Dean beckoned you over, gesturing with his hand. “C’mere, angel.”

You hesitated. You shouldn’t be here, alone in Sam’s apartment with his older brother, who was making you feel so much better without even trying. You almost turned back around, walked out the door, and left this entire mess behind you. Almost.

Dean’s eyes were locked onto yours while you walked over. Your boots -- the ones Mason bought for you as a “reward for leaving that douche for good” -- made soft thumps on the flooring. You stood in front of him, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

“You still love him?” Dean finished off the rest of his drink and deposited the glass on the window sill near the couch. You shrugged. Yes was the answer that first popped into your mind until you remembered Sam’s proud grin at getting caught.

“I can help you forget him.” Dean spoke again, throwing his arms up casually on the cushions behind him. You dared to glance down at his spread legs. They looked like they would be nice to sit on. You wondered if he would feel like Sam, if he would be able to make you come like Sam had.

Only one way to find out, you decided.

You sank down into his lap, knees on either side of Dean’s thighs. Your dress rode up, lacy panties pressing against the seam of his jeans. He clutched onto your hips. If you wanted to, you could stand back up, no problem, but the grip still felt possessive, like you were his and he wasn’t ever letting you go.

You liked that.

“You wanna let me kiss you, pretty girl?” Dean asked, grinning at you again.

You swallowed down your hesitancy this time. You needed this. What was that thing Mason had said the last time you broke up with Sam? “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else”? You were certainly going to take her advice this time.

Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you kissed him. You were thrown off by his hunger as he kissed you back. He was motivated by something, this wasn’t just another lay. You didn’t care to ask. What difference would it make?

You rocked your hips into his, humming when you brushed against his belt buckle.

“Fuck, sweetie,” Dean growled into your skin when he moved to your jaw and neck. You slid your hands down his face, over his chest, onto the growing bulge that was pressing into your heat.

“Please,” you breathed when he bit into the side of your neck, just enough to leave a bruise, his tongue flattening against it to soothe.

“‘Please’ what?” Dean teased. His hands found their way up your bare thighs.

“Please make me forget your brother ever existed.”

Dean ignored the twitch in his cock and instead pressed both of his thumbs onto your clit. The lacy cloth did nothing to cushion the pressure. You moaned, kissing him again.

Your teeth and tongues gnashed against each other. Your shared saliva was spreading across your chins. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, not when Dean was rubbing circles into you.

The connection only broke to allow space for your dress to pass over your head, then he was right back onto you. You were glad you’d chosen not to wear a bra that day. It was just one less layer between you and Dean.

“Sammy ever fuck you good? He make you see Heaven when you come?” Dean groaned into your mouth, palming at one of your breasts, a thumb still swirling on your clit.

“Mhm…,” you answered, half-moan. You couldn’t lie. It was the one thing Sam was actually good at in your relationship. The man knew how to fuck.

Dean didn’t seem to like that. It was as if you had told him that he wasn’t good at sex purely because his brother was.

“I’m gonna be better.” He growled and pulled your panties to the side. He slipped two fingers into you, making you arch forward into him, whining in pleasure. You had no doubt in your mind he would be better, just from the sheer confidence he held.

“Dean,” you sighed as he moved his fingers skillfully.

“That’s right,” Dean curled them forward, right into that spongy spot that had your spine giving out from holding you up. You were completely draped onto him, not that it slowed his pace. “Remember my name. By the end of the night, it’s the only thing you’re gonna know.”

You held onto his shoulders, soft moans leaving your lips. You muttered his name like it was a sacred chant.

“De… oh, I’m…,” you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. He knew what you were trying to say. He licked into your mouth, moving his tongue in sync with the way his fingers were pumping and curling.

You came with a moan of his name, just the way he wanted. It wasn’t the last time he’d be inside you. He was never going to get enough of those noises leaving your mouth.

You were still hungry for more. You squeezed his bulge just enough to make him hiss in pleasure. He promptly pushed his fingers into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around them, sucking. The eye contact you held made him groan.

“Sam’s a damn fool. He’s out chasing pussy when he’s got the best one right here.” He kissed onto the length of his digits you didn’t fully reach. This taste of you lingered on his lips as he kissed you, his fingers still in your mouth. He hooked them around the corner of your lips, moving his mouth on you like he was a death row inmate and you were his last meal.

“You’re mine now.” He mumbled, finally dragging out of your mouth, spreading your saliva over your cheek. You panted and watched his hands unbuckle his belt, mouth watering when his fingers slipped the button of his jeans open.

You helped him pull his jeans off, scrambling off of his lap until you were standing there, lace the only thing keeping you from complete nudity.

Dean shifted forward, falling from his sitting position on the couch to his knees in front of you. He shimmied your panties down, letting you hold a hand on his shoulder for balance to fully get them off.

“Gorgeous.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to your clit before standing, hooking an arm under your ass to lift you up with him. Your legs found a home around his waist, hands holding onto his shoulders. He kissed you, holding you close to his chest.

“Kitchen… table…,” you gasped into him. Dean didn’t question this. He carried you to the small kitchen, laying you out on the counter. He kissed down your sternum before latching onto a nipple, sucking until you moaned.

“He ever fuck you here?” He asked, looking up at you from where he was licking a stripe onto the plush of your breast.

“No.” You smirked. You had a few ideas of your own to make Sam pay for his treatment of you, and the spark of competitive edge in Dean’s eyes told you this was the correct choice. This was the exact reason you’d chosen the table.

“Good.” He pushed his boxers down enough to free himself.

“No condom?” You offered. Dean raised an eyebrow at you with a smirk.

“You let him do that?” Everything had to give him an extra thing to hang over Sam’s head.

“No.” You bit your bottom lip. Sam used to try to get you to do it raw constantly. You didn’t want to risk it, pregnancy and STDs, since Sam was so friendly with the neighborhood pussy. This? This was worth any fucking risk, just to see how Sam would react to the knowledge of it.

“Good.” Dean growled. He ran his tip through your slick, loving the way you shivered at the touch. He finally pushed into you, slowly moving in, inch by inch.

You groaned, eyes rolling back when he bottomed out. He gripped onto your hips, pulling out almost completely before snapping back into you.

“So fuckin’ tight.” Dean rocked his hips back and forth. He folded over you, kissing you again. You whined into his mouth.

“Gonna let me come in you? Fill this pussy up until she can’t take anymore?” Dean grunted.

“Yes!” You bit out, voice cracking from the pleasure.

“Yeah,” he chuckled darkly, “‘Uncle Sammy’ has a nice ring to it. Really show him how bad he fucked up when you’re walkin’ around all swollen with my kid.”

You rolled your hips into him, clenching around him at the thought of Dean showing you off in front of Sam.

A chime from near the couch broke you from your thinking. Your phone. You knew it was Sam. It was the ringtone he’d picked out for himself, at your request.

“It’s him.” You breathed. Dean’s hips faltered and you watched a wicked shine flash in his eyes.

“It’d be rude to ignore him.” He pulled out of you, making you involuntary whine in protest. To his credit, he was quick to shuffle through your purse and get back to you.

“Hey, baby.” You heard crackle out from your phone. Crawling back to you again, it seemed. This time you weren’t falling for it. You had better things to do, like moan at the stretch that Dean gave you when he pushed back into you.

“What the-,” Sam started to question, but Dean cut him off.

“Hi-ya, Sammy.” Dean had the widest grin you’d ever seen. You ran your hands up the sides of your body, cupping your breasts as he thrust into you at a steady pace.

“Dean.” Sam grumbled. You could almost see the dark glare in his eyes as he said it. “What the fuck are you doing to her? I wanna speak to my girl.”

“Ah, ah,” Dean tutted, rubbing a thumb onto your clit to make you whine. “She’s a little busy right now.”

“She’s never too busy for me.” Sam sounded far too confident about that fact. Dean snapped his hips into you. A sharp cry left your lips.

“And she’s not yours anymore, Sammy.” Dean growled. He smiled down at you. Your eyes fluttered shut with a sigh.

“You can’t fucking do this, Dean. She’ll never leave me. She loves me too much.” Sam was fumbling for arguments. Dean laughed dryly.

“Let me paint you a picture, Sam. I’ve got her spread out, naked, on your table, tits bouncing. God, I gotta tell you, this pussy was made for me.” Dean leaned down to place another kiss on your lips. You were breathless, both from him moving so effortlessly into you and from his taunting to Sam. He sounded so mean yet so sweet at the same time.

“Whatever,” Sam huffed out, the poison of jealousy stinging through his voice. “Have fun with my sloppy seconds.”

“Mmm, Sammy, she’s not too sloppy yet, but she will be when I come deep inside her. Fuckin’ leave my mark, right, sweetheart.” You babbled out a slurred “yes”, arching your back when he pulled your leg to wrap around him, allowing him to go deeper. “She ever let you do that? Fuck her raw?”

Dean already knew the answer, but it pulled a smirk onto his face when he heard the flex of Sam’s jaw while he spoke.

“She wouldn’t let you do that.” He huffed.

“It was her idea, man.” Dean chuckled. He turned his voice back to you. “You gonna let me do that?”

“Yes.” You gasped.

“Gonna make me a daddy?”

“Yes.”

Dean groaned and threw his head back.

“She-,” Sam sucked in a breath, “she loves me.” He was stuck on that. There was a time when it was true, and all he had to do was say it back in order to get you back. That changed the moment Dean kissed you like he had something to prove.

“Who do you love, pretty girl?” Dean asked you, grasping at your jaw. You opened your eyes, wanting eye contact for the words that were about to leave you.

“You.” You moaned, rolling your hips. “I love you, Dean. Only you.” You were laying it on thick, trying to prove a point. Was it true? You didn’t know. Maybe you loved Dean. You certainly loved the things he was doing to you.

You stuck your tongue out to meet Dean’s fingers halfway when they started to crawl up your chin. He watched as you closed your lips around three of them, sucking, never taking your eyes from his.

“Fuck, Sammy, can’t believe you let her get away. I’m not making the same mistake.”

“You fuckin’ ass-,” Sam growled, getting cut off again.

“Hey, we really gotta let you go. Talk later, ‘kay?” Dean didn’t wait for a response before ending the call, dumping your phone onto the table next to you. You hummed in approval. You hoped Sam was feeling just as shitty as he had made you feel. He deserved so much more than that, but it was a good start.

“Proud of you, angel. You did so fuckin’ well.” Dean grunted, using his newly freed hand to grip onto your hip. It was the last thing to send you over the edge. You clenched around him as you came, an incoherent whine sounding from you. It was muffled with his fingers still in your mouth.

Dean’s jaw dropped in pleasure and he slammed into you, chasing his own high. It didn’t take long before he was pulling out of you with a groan, spilling himself onto your lower stomach. A few drips of release slid down your waist.

You panted, keeping your mouth open to let his fingers fall free. A tired smile grew onto your face when he gently grabbed your bottom lip in his teeth. You closed your lips around his mouth, kissing him.

“Changed your mind?” You asked when he pulled away, looking pointedly to his cum still sitting on your stomach. He gave you a crooked grin.

“Figured I’d take ya out before I knocked you up.” Dean answered, rubbing soothing circles into the muscles of your thighs. You scrunched your eyebrows at him, ignoring the swoop of emotions flooding you at his words.

“Out?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, kissing the top of your bent knee. “Out. I meant it when I said you were mine now.”

The way he said it told you he not only meant it, but he meant it in a different way than Sam ever did. You were Dean’s in the same way he was yours. There would be no Kristy or Stephanie. It was you and only you.

You let him help you sit up and take you to the bathroom, running the shower to clean you both of the sweat and cum.

This was the best way to get over a breakup, you’d decided, especially when it was with the brother of the man who had broken your heart.

everything taglist : @littlesoulshine @sacr1ficialang3l @blossomingorchids @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @mostlymarvelgirl @missus-ackles @tinas111 @ambiguous-avery

jensen ackles taglist : @arcannaa

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part two)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns. 

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: I truly appreciate every single one of you who has enjoyed this story and has shown it love. I want to have a slow start to things so I hope everyone appreciates a good slow burn lol. enjoy! <3

part two: pathetic

London was absolutely beautiful. You’d always dreamed of coming here- simply exploring anywhere out of America really. It was so fun being in a foreign place hearing silly accents all day, you loved it. You wanted nothing more than to do a world tour for your debut album but your label decided to play it safe by only touring around North America. Now that you were here, you dreamed bigger and would try your hardest to gain the fan base it took to have a world tour. Traveling was honestly one of the best perks of being famous. 

famous

It was a word you were still getting used to as it almost felt shallow to refer to yourself as such. Though it was true. You were famous. Having that interaction with Hugh and Ryan yesterday made the reality sink in even more. Two men who had been in the industry for decades knew who you were, it was mind boggling to put it simply. The embarrassment seemed to keep creeping in when you would remember your interaction between the two men yesterday. The yelp of surprise and the quick, but loud, ‘holy shit’ that was thrown from your mouth involuntarily made you cringe. Hugh asking about Pedro was something you weren’t prepared for at all either. It made sense for him to ask, if he was a close friend of Pedro’s then your name being brought up didn’t seem like the oddest thing. However, never meeting Hugh before, you wished the conversation could have been different. 

Ugh stupid hot, tall, older, Australian man that could sing. He was literally everything you found attractive bundled up into one man. You had a brief obsession with The Greatest Showman, as every theater kid did, but your celebrity crush of the movie was Zac Efron. If only freshman you could see current you, she’d probably laugh. 

Hugh had been on your mind all night and hadn’t left since you woke up this morning. If you could remember, you’d be certain he was the focus of your dreams too. The following and the comment was shocking to say the least. From Ryan’s words, they were fans but why did he follow you after he had met you instead of before. Ha, as you think about it more, it probably wasn’t even him. It was more than likely someone who was hired to run his socials, just like the person on your team that posted that photo for you. You were definitely overthinking it all…This morning when you were brushing your teeth, you kept trying to remember the feeling of his big hand on the base of your spine. It was all a bit pathetic. 

“Helloooo…earth to y/n.” Ashley, your best friend, says as she snaps her fingers in front of your face. “Are you going to tell me what has you all spaced out or do I have to deal with you moping around this entire trip?” There's a hint of annoyance in her voice. 

Ashley has been your best friend since middle school. She was always your number one supporter, so in return, you take her almost everywhere with you. Of course you invited her to London and of course she planned an entire itinerary around your busy work schedule. Her company was appreciated but it was impossible to hide your emotions from her, making moments like this difficult. 

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing really, it can wait until later.” If the two of you weren’t sitting in the middle of a small cafe, you would have told her every single thought that sat in your brain, but you couldn’t. You never knew who was listening in on your conversations. That became something you had to get used to, not being able to exist in public. It usually wasn’t too bad, for example, you could sit in a cafe with your best friend but sometimes things got out of hand and you couldn’t even walk down the street.

“Okay, you better.” She gave you an understanding nod. “So, I bought us tickets to go on the London Eye at 2pm then I thought we could go grab a late lunch or dinner, whatever you-” You’re looking at her and nodding trying your best to pay attention but you can’t. You hated the way one singular interaction with Hugh had your entire day scrambled. If you ever saw him again, you’d have to tell him off for being so hot and ruining the fun London trip you had planned. 

—

The wait for the London Eye ended up taking an extra forty five minutes and Ashley was pissed. She was a very schedule oriented person, one minute off and she’s stressed the fuck out. The entire time we waited, she complained and would have had the king on the phone if you hadn't stopped her. Her mood was unchanged by the time you stepped into your private cart.

“If I tell you all of my boy drama, would it make you calm down and enjoy the ride?” You ask slyly as you look down at the water below as the wheel starts to move the bubble you’re sitting in higher. 

She gasps and her eyes go wide.

“BOY DRAMA???” She screams out, her previous negative mood disappearing and her eyes light up with excitement.

You sigh as you gather your thoughts. 

“Well..it’s not really drama. I may or may not have a teensy crush on someone.” 

“Oh my god!! Who is it? Have I met them?” 

“Uh no. I actually just met him-” She’s cutting you off before you can finish your sentence. 

“YOU SLUT!” She yells, pointing an accusing finger at you. 

“What the hell Ash? I didn’t even tell yo-” 

“It’s Hugh fucking Jackman isn’t it? Stacy said she saw the way you looked at him yesterday. Jesus y/n, you don’t even know the guy.” She’s rambling on, judgment clear in her voice. 

“Since when are you and Stacy on talking terms?” You purposely ignore everything else she said. Ashley was jealous of Stacy for awhile. When you asked her about it she claimed that Stacy was trying to steal her best friend away. It took a lot of reassurance that the relationship you had with Stacy was work before friendship- and if she had become a good friend along the way, that was something you weren’t going to tell Ashley. 

“We can be civil when it comes to concerns for you.” 

“And what concerns are there lately?” 

“Huh… Stacy let me in on your little conversation yesterday about swearing off men for a little bit but once Hugh stepped through the door, she said that she could tell that idea was out the window.” She’s trying her hardest to keep a straight face but there was a slight smirk peeking through. 

“Oh my fucking god, you guys are so dramatic. Yes he’s fine as FUCK but like you said I dont know him. I probably won’t ever see him again.” You sigh at the end. You really wanted to see him again. 

“What even happened that has you wrapped around his finger already?” You don’t speak for a moment as you think about how to say your thoughts without feeling dumb. 

“Please don’t tell me you only have a crush on him because he’s hot…You take your crushes too far for that.” There's a look of panic resting on her face. 

“He uh…well…you know how we took the pictures yesterday for BBC?” You ask and she's nodding. “I thought he looked good but I swear I wasn’t thinking anything irrational. It was when we had to take those stupid pictures and he rested his hand on my back…Ash, I swear there was a spark or something. It felt so… I don’t know…so.. right?” The cart you’re in is sitting at the top of the wheel and you’re taking advantage of the view while you wait for Ashley to respond. When she doesn’t, you turn to look at her. She’s staring blankly at you, giving you slow blinks. 

“What?” Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper. 

“Y/n, how old is he?” Her expression is unchanging. 

“Fifty five…I googled it last night..” You were feeling ashamed of your behavior. You felt like a kid with a stupid school crush. Pathetic. 

“Hm, that’s your oldest yet. What’s next, eighty or ninety five is probably more to your taste huh?” She’s making fun of you and it hurts. You know she’s never approved of your taste in men but you can’t really help it. It’s not like you block out guys your age, they just don’t satisfy you. They’re mean, boring, and losers. You wanted a real man. Someone who was established in life and could take care of you. 

“Whatever..” You let out softly. The cart was nearing the bottom once again and you were ready to be free of the room of gossip and judgment. 

“Y/n… you know I only want what’s best for you. I mean look at what happened with Pedro and all the other men before him.” She’s sincere and you understand her point of view but you wished she would understand yours as well. 

“I know Ash. It’s just a stupid crush anyways.” It was more of a reminder to yourself rather than to Ashley. She was right, you did have a habit of taking your crushes too far. You always had to try to get the guy who held your attention but you were confident in who you were. Most times it worked but a break from dating was what was best for you. 

—

To apologize for being mean, Ashley was currently on the phone with some poor worker from one of Gordon Ramsay’s restaurants. She already made a reservation for tomorrow night but thought tonight would be better to cheer you up. You tried to reason with her by telling her that there were plenty of great restaurants in London we could get into tonight, but she insisted on having a very touristy dinner tonight instead of tomorrow, like it made any of a difference. 

“I know the reservation is for tomorrow but miss y/l/n needs it for tonight.” Her voice is strong and unwavering, determined to get a table tonight. She’s been throwing your name around left and right hoping that someone would know who you were. It all felt too pretentious for your liking but you couldn’t control Ashley when she was like this. 

You were sprawled across your hotel bed, scrolling through instagram. The voices inside your head were screaming to look at Hugh’s page, just a peak. Last night after you saw the comment, you practically threw your phone across the room, too afraid to look at it again. You're honestly thankful for that reaction because who knows how long you would have stayed awake thinking about it and diving into his life. You did make that quick google search to see just how old he was but that was the end of your exploration. 

Your fingers moved faster than your brain could process, typing his name into the search bar and clicking his profile the second it popped up. You didn’t have to scroll far into his account before your heart started to race. You clicked on a mirror selfie he had posted of him in his wolverine costume with sunglasses on. The pose and the caption really showed his age but for your sick brain, it made everything about him even sexier. You cautiously swiped out of that picture to prevent an accidental like. The next picture to catch your attention was one of Hugh in the trunk of a car. Your eyes almost jump out of your face with your tongue rolling onto the ground like the cartoons. The size of his arm was insane. You weren’t one to go for muscular men, but Hugh could choke you out with that arm any time he wanted to. His smile was so dreamy. You hadn’t seen Deadpool and Wolverine yet, not really having interest before, but now you might have to take a solo trip to the movies. You were cooked.

“Thank you, I’m glad we were able to come to an agreement. Yes tonight at 8pm.” Ashley is hanging up the phone and lets out a high pitched squeal. 

“How do you do that?” You’ve always been amazed at her negotiating skills and her ability to get whatever she wants. 

“Natural talent..also having a famous bestie doesn’t hurt.” She giggles and checks the time. Her laughter turns to a gasp. “We have to get ready, it’s already 6pm!” She’s gathering her things and as she’s rushing out of the door, she’s telling you that she’ll be back soon to get dolled up together. 

You had to learn how to style yourself over the past year of being in the limelight. Fashion was something you had been interested in but in Minden, if you dressed too out of the ordinary, people would stare. You shied away from it for longer than necessary and only recently learned how to express yourself freely thanks to your stylist, Kat. For dinner, you picked out a lengthy fitted black dress. It had the prettiest floral pattern that covered it with butterflies popping up here and there. What sold you on the dress though were the two frilly pieces of fabric that hung on either side of the dress. It was stunning and it looked even better on you. You decided on letting your hair sit in its natural state, not caring to put much effort into it. 

When Ashley came tumbling back into your room, wearing a red fitted dress, the two of you put some music on and got to work. You weren’t going for a super complicated makeup look, simply deciding on a small winged eyeliner, mascara, a dark blood red lip stain, and a hint of blush. Layering a few necklaces and adding some hooped earrings, your look was almost complete. All that was left were a pair of black heels that had two strings that you effortlessly swirled around your calf tying it into a cute bow at the top. 

“You look smoking hot! Let me take a picture of you.” Ashley whistles and grabs your phone to take a few shots. She was right, you looked good. You decided to post one of the pictures of your instagram story with a small caption that said ‘dinner time 😋’. 

What you loved about Ashley is that she took your fame with a grain of salt most of the time. When you wanted to take an uber or taxi somewhere, she never complained. You often got tired of taking private cars everywhere, wanting a little normality when you could get it. The uber ride over was a quiet one, both of you too focused on the view outside of your own windows, soaking in the reality of being in Europe. 

The restaurant was gorgeous. It wasn’t over the top fancy with normal everyday people littering the dining area, it was nice. Ashley and yourself were in quiet conversation as you looked over the menu. Feeling adventurous, you asked the waitress what she recommended and you ended up ordering the dish. Sipping on your espresso martini, you took a moment to feel grateful for the life you got to live. 

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.” Ashley is sighing with a slight roll of her eyes. 

“Good evening y/n.” A voice is approaching behind you before you could question Ashleys sudden annoyance. It was a voice you recognized, hearing it the day before. You turn around to see Hugh standing behind your left shoulder and you stand up to greet him properly. You’ve gotten accustomed to hugging almost everyone you meet nowadays, you lean in without thinking. 

“Oh my god! Hi Hugh.” There's a big grin on your face. It felt like a sign that you were seeing him again. 

“I don’t want to bother you ladies for too long. I recognized your dress and wanted to come say hi. I also wanted to apologize for bringing up Pedro yesterday, it was rude of me to do without even introducing myself first.” He lets out in his gruff voice, accent strong. His arm and yours are still interlocked in a weird side hug type of position. 

“It’s totally fine, you didn’t know.” You look into his eyes with utmost sincerity. “Oh uh, this is my best friend Ashley. Ashley, this is Hugh.” He breaks the side hug to reach to shake Ashley’s hand. 

“Nice to meet you.” Hugh lets out and Ashley responds with a short ‘you too.’ You give her a look that says ‘be nice’. 

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair. It was really nice seeing you again sweetheart.” He smiles down at you.

“It was nice seeing you again as well.” 

“Here let me.” He’s motioning to your chair. You take a seat and he's pushing it forward for you. 

“Thank you.” Looking back at him with a shy smile. He gives your shoulder a squeeze of acknowledgment and he’s walking away. 

“Maybe the universe does want you with a man old enough to be your grandfather. I mean what are the fucking odds of running into him at a Gordon Ramsay restaurant.” Ashley lets out in total disbelief. 

You don’t say anything, you give a sly shrug instead. The rest of the dinner is tame. The food was delicious and you felt woozy from the martinis you’d been downing. Ashley let you know half way through the dinner that Hugh was sitting not to far from us and that he ‘had a fucking staring problem’, her words exactly. It made you giddy to think he was looking over here and if you begged Ashley to trade seats with you it was no one else's business. She obviously refused and you spent the rest of your time focusing on your friend, with Hugh sitting in the corner of your mind. 

When you got back to the hotel, you immediately stripped yourself from your heels and dress. Laying in the bed in nothing but your undergarments, you opened instagram and took a look at your story one more time, wanting to see just how good you looked. It was shallow for sure but it made you feel good. You saw the hearts flooding the bottom of the screen and decided to swipe up to see who had liked it. As you scrolled nothing really caught your attention until that name caught your eye again.

“I recognized your dress and wanted to come say hi.” 

What the actual fuck.

thank you for reading <3

part three

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre

I think I got everyone tagged that asked to be! If you want to be added/removed let me know. <3

[067supremacy]

Kang No-Eul x fem reader!!

Jealousy 18+!!

Description: A jealous Kang No-Eul drags you back to her place to remind you who you belong to.

Warnings: 18+ smut!! Fingering, spanking, light choking, squirting, filth, oral, more filth.

Masterlist

It was a long walk back to Kang No-Eul's place but the walk gave you the opportunity to think about the consequences of other people's actions tonight. It was snowing lightly, and you made the awful decision to wear a simple dress tonight. Not even a jacket to keep you from the cold and that was your first mistake.

No-Eul scolded you the moment she laid eyes on you. Your girlfriend was extremely protective of you, and in the front of her mind, the thought of you catching a sickness worried her to death, but that would be the least of her worries tonight.

You and her walked into the club hand-in-hand, one of her strong hands also gripping the side of your body to lead you through the crowds as you look for your friend group.

As the beat of the music thumped, and multiple drinks were consumed to the point of nearing tipsiness. One of your friends jokingly pulled you onto the dance floor, and in No-Eul's eyes, was touching you a little too inappropriately. It was completely innocent and only a bit of fun, but her mind was already made up. Someone wanted what was hers, and she would have to remind you later of who you belonged to.

She sat patiently watching you like a hawk and when you had finally had enough, you cheerfully approached her, but you felt the energy was off. Her usual happy gaze at you was replaced by something else. Jealousy.

"Oh my god, you're jealous. Aren't you?" You playfully ask her but she doesn't respond. No-Eul takes her jacket off her shoulders and wraps it around you, before taking your hand in hers.

"Let's go back to mine." She whispers, her lips barely scraping past the lobe of your ear, making you shiver. Pushing through the multiple bodies in front of you was a struggle, but eventually you made it out of the hot and sweaty club and brisked the walk on the snow-covered streets.

You thought it would be a good idea to tease your girlfriend with multiple comments about the night, but she was in no mood to entertain your fun with her. She was serious this time, and you felt excitement building inside you. No-Eul mumbled something to herself but you didn't quite catch it while you were looking at the intricate patterns of ice floating weightlessly down to the ground, each flake swirling and dancing in the breeze.

The fresh layers of snow crunched under your feet, the sound keeping you occupied as you wondered just what No-Eul had in store for you. She mumbled again, but this time you caught it. " You're mine tonight and always."

With her home finally in sight, she passed you her key to the front door and asked you to open it for her. As you arrive at the front door and stand at attention, getting the key in the lock became an impossible task made harder when you felt two arms snake around your waist and your girlfriend's hot breath on the back of your neck. she pressed her body on the back of yours and ran her tongue up the nape of your neck.

"What's wrong, baby? Are you struggling?" She teases. You find yourself lost in the touch, you forget that you are in the middle of the street where it is snowing, but you don't care. Your care disappears further when your girlfriend's hands travel from your waist to your dress covered tits, she harshly kneads them in her hands and chuckles when she hears your shaky breath release, you were surprised your legs didn't give way after this action.

With whatever strength you have left, you manage to open the door and push yourself through, creating some space with the intention of giving her a taste of her own medicine, but No-Eul closes the door behind her and pins you against the wall just beside the front door.

Her hot breath now invades your neck as she traps the skin there between her teeth, sure to leave a mark. Exactly what she wanted, a way of showing that you belonged to her. she moves to your collar bone, harshly sucking on the skin to leave more marks. She was enjoying herself, but the fun hadn't even begun yet.

As the world around you fell dark, and the blanket of white outside was embedded in the ground, The heat from Kang No-Eul’s apartment could be felt from Antarctica. Your skin blazed with every touch she made on the exposed skin peaking out of your dress.

When you finally separated for the first time, you realised that tonight, you were her prey. She watched you with black eyes. Her predator-like instincts stalked you toward the bedroom, as the doorway opened; the uncovered window lets through a beam of silky white light. The moon shone exceedingly from behind the snow clouds that once again threatened to burst.

The rest of the room was dark, and even though you couldn't see her clearly. The room's energy was extensively present; she flicked a small switch, illuminating the room in magnificent hues of green, red, and blue. The walls of her large bedroom were littered with little fairy lights that lit up her features perfectly.

The woman gave off no signs of moving. She watched you from the doorway, and the thoughts of making a joke right now crept into your brain, but for your sake, you knew it was best to stay quiet.

"Strip" No-Eul, demanded from her position in the doorway; you didn't need to be told twice; with unsure hands, you unzipped your dress and let it pool at your feet, but her mood was unchanged. This was usually the time when she would tell you how beautiful you are, kisses, and compliments would flood your ears, but this time she stayed still and deafly silent.

Unclipping your bra and removing your now soaked underwear still had little effect on the intimidating woman in front of you; she smirked in your direction before slowly making her way toward you.

You indeed were her prey in this situation; instead of coming straight to you, she circled you, taking in every inch of your beautiful body. She disappeared behind you one last time. You gasped as her cold yet soft hands snaked around your waist and began exploring all of the skin you had to offer.

Really, in the current climate around Seoul. The snow-covered grounds and harsh icy winds would dictate that being stripped bare would leave you shivering. Her touch, however, lit your whole body on fire; a raging inferno filled you to the brim.

She placed a light kiss on the back of your shoulder. "If you want me to stop, say the word. Ok, baby?" you could only nod; no words were capable of leaving your mouth. As soon as the nod was unveiled. She spun you around and pulled you toward her king-size bed.

As you jumped on the bed and came to rest in the middle, she grabs your ankles and pulls you to sit at the edge. No time is spared. She separates your ankles, spreading you wide open for her lustful gaze.

Your arousal was evident; your breathing was ragged as you eagerly awaited her touch. It was like she snapped at that moment; she lunged forward to engage in a lustful kiss. Her lips fit yours perfectly like the piece of a puzzle; No-Eul’s teeth took your bottom lip hostage as she harshly bit down on the flesh. She smoothed the bite with her tongue before invading your mouth.

There was no fight for dominance, you were more than happy to let her take control, and besides, she would always come out on top. As she dominated the heated kiss, you felt a hand wrap around your throat, holding you in place. This action made your want for No-Eul even greater.

Her other hand slithered up your leg and the inside of your thigh. The closer she got to where you needed her the most, the more you reacted. You squirmed underneath her; you were so ready for what she had to offer.

You were given some form of release as she found your clit, rubbing slow circles while tightening her grip on your throat slightly. She broke the kiss as your quiet but strangled moans rolled out. No-Eul held a proud smile; she knew you were honestly all hers. And she was planning much more pleasure for you.

It didn't take long for her grip on your throat to release completely and be placed on your breast as she massaged its entirety; she tweaked your nipple at the same time as coating her index and middle finger in your wetness.

Your slicked folds made her feel weak at the knees; her two fingers teased your tight entrance for a short time before she became impatient. She pushed into your heat; the moan that erupted from you once again elicited a smirk from her pink lips.

She was able to glide all the way in down to the knuckle. Her eyes trailed all around your beautiful body. She was fascinated with the arch of your back as she slowly pumped her digits. The slight parting in your lips as you let out soft moans. She watched you thrash around as she began to speed up the pace.

She now knew that there was something else she had to do. Her head went down between your legs, her fingers still repeatedly pumped inside of you. Her tongue flicked out and made contact with your fleshy button.

By this point, you were moaning uncontrollably. The pleasure is almost reaching the utmost height. You feel like your world is about to crash, but.

She stops. She pulls her fingers out and prevents the flicker of her tongue. No-Eul laughs at your whines for a finish; this is all very amusing to her. She stands up straight and looks at your figure once again. Legs spread wide open, your wet channel just begging to be touched.

No-Eul knelt in front of you, she separated your lower lips before plunging her tongue deep into your heat, she worked all your angles, she flicked and sucked at your most private region like her life depended on it. She hooked your legs over her shoulders, bringing you even closer so she could get deeper.

Now your moans and screams of her name were flying. People passing in the street could no doubt hear you; No-Eul got her wish after all. "Y/N come on, let go for me," she spoke before diving back in.

That was your undoing, you cried out as your climax hit you. You felt like you were on cloud nine, and No-Eul didn't stop. Even after a burst of your liquid hit her tongue. She slowed significantly to let you ride out the high, but she kept her tongue stroking your insides.

"You taste good, baby. I can't wait for round number two." Your eyes widened; number two? This girl would genuinely be the death of you. And with that announcement, she went right back to work.

She pushed you further on the bed and commanded you to spin around. She licked her lips at the sight of you on all fours, ready for her. She smacked your ass harshly which was sure to leave a handprint before licking up the valley of your spine. "I'm fucking obsessed with you." She says in your ear as two fingers enter you again. This time she adds a third after a few pumps but she keeps talking in your ear. The sensations were all too much for you.

"You want to cum on my fingers again, don't you sweetheart." She purs directly into your ear, all you can do is nod your head, but that doesn't work for her.

"Fucking say it." No-Eul demands as she takes your face in her hand, almost squashing your cheeks. You can only whine as the movement of her fingers stops completely deep inside of you, she curls them lightly, making sure to graze your G-spot. She truly knew you inside and out.

"F-Fuck, I need to cum on your fingers." you manage to spit out but still that doesn't satisfy Kang No-Eul's needs.

"Come on, you can beg better than that." No-Eul suggests still keeping her movements still to torture you.

"Fucking, Please. Please let me cum on your fingers." You plead as you make movements of your own for some relief.

"Say you belong to me." No-Eul commands with another harsh slap on your ass. You don't even give it a second thought. You spill the truth out in the open. Happily declaring who you belong to, and this was good enough for No-Eul, to finish you off. With three fingers pumping in and out of you at a rapid pace, her fingers still curling inside you to stroke your sweet spot, it isn't long before a burst of your cum squirts out of you, leaving you a breathless mess on the bed which you collapse on face first. Once the aftershocks subside, you feel No-Eul stroking your sweat-slick forehead as she turns back to her usual sweet demeanour.

"Are you okay, Y/N? Did I hurt you?" She questions with real worry evident in her voice.

"You were perfect, don't worry baby." You reassure her. You feel her take a place next to you on the bed. Jealous, Kang No-Eul was a different kind of hot, unfortunately for her, you figured it could be worth it to try this more often.

[ashwhowrites]

Would you be able to do a mild angsty fic with Steve where he’s self conscious about how hairy his chest is? He’s dating reader but she hasn’t seen him with his shirt off yet and one day maybe someone makes a joke (cuz Steve hasn’t told anyone he’s insecure about it) and reader is like ?? And they’re like oh have you not seen yet? And Steve is awkward and embarrassed for the rest of the day and reader notices. So after they’re alone she asks to see and just kinda runs her hand through it and cuddles into his chest and talks about how sexy she thinks it is and makes him feel good?

I love your stuff so much. Thank you!🙏

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Ladies dig it

Y/N felt like her relationship with Steve was going incredibly well. The connection and attraction were there, stronger than either had felt before. But there was one thing Y/N felt insecure about and she felt silly about it. She hasn't seen Steve without a shirt, like ever. She was worried he was hiding an offensive tattoo or something worse. At first, she thought he wanted to take it slow and she was fine with that. But now they are coming up on three months and nothing. It wasn't like they had to have sex, but at least move forward.

She wasn't going to bring it up, she didn't want to embarrass him. And she was going to let it go and continue to wait. But last night was the final straw.

~

"And Lucas asked, "When did he get so hairy?" And I was like "Right?.....but he says the ladies dig it." Dustin said, telling the story of Max stealing a look at Steve's hairy chest. Y/N felt ridiculous to be jealous of a teenage girl but why the hell was Steve shirtless in front of her?

The gang laughed, except for the couple. Steve felt his cheeks flush red when Y/N stiffened. Dustin noticed the weird look on Y/N's face like she didn't understand the joke.

"Get it? Because we all tell Steve he needs to tame his chest hair!" Dustin explained the joke, leading the group into a fit of laughs.

Y/N, feeling a little annoyed, turned to look at him. Shrugging she teased, "I don't get it because someone won't show me." Steve stared at her with his jaw dropped. He awkwardly laughed and lowered his voice.

"You know me, just wanna go slow."

Y/N accepted the answer, giving him a small kiss. He smiled and pressed his lips against hers. "You're worth the wait."

She was going to leave it alone, but then Dustin spilled the beans that everyone had seen Steve's chest. So why was he only private with her?

Y/N left it alone, figuring it should be a conversation to have in private. As they hung out with the rest of the gang, she noticed how anxious Steve was. He fumbled his words, leg bouncing, and spaced out.

~

Y/N waited for Steve to wake up in the morning before she began questioning. He was half awake when he noticed her sitting next to him with coffee in her hand.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked, his deep morning voice made her shiver. She smiled and pushed back his fluffy hair.

"What happened yesterday? After Dustin's stories about your chest, you got all nervous and awkward. Why don't you want me to see your chest?"

Steve sighed and sat up, looking over at her with puppy eyes. "It's stupid."

She scoffed and waved his comment off, moving closer to cuddle his body as she sat down her coffee on his nightstand. "It is not stupid. Talk to me."

"When I was with other girls I always had a naked chest. And I was single for a good amount of time before I met you so I let the hair grow. I feel better with it but my friends make it seem like it is a bad thing. So now I'm insecure about it." Steve explained, not able to look into his girlfriend's eyes.

"Can I see?" she asked, unable to hold back her smile. Thinking about his chest made her feel warm and excited.

Steve seemed conflicted as she moved to straddle his lap. "I promise you, I'll give you nothing to feel insecure about." The seductive look on her face made Steve less worried. Steve nodded and pulled his shirt over his head.

Steve's ears perked up when Y/N let out a small moan as her eyes took in his hairy chest. There was lust swimming in her eyes and Steve couldn't help but harden underneath her.

"You were right," she smiled, leaning in to speak against his lips. "The ladies dig it." Steve chuckled and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss started getting hot and heavy, making him wish he had shown her sooner.

She pulled away and Steve couldn't help but chase her lips. "May I?" she asked, her hands ghosting over his chest. Steve nodded, holding his breath.

Y/N looked at her hands, teasing Steve as she trailed her nails through the hair. She ran the rest of her hands through, loving the way his body shuttered.

"Feel nice, Stevie boy?" she looked up at him with a smirk. His face was flushed red and he licked his lips.

"Yeah, really nice," Steve whispered. She continued to run her hands through it, obsessed with the way it felt.

"You are incredibly sexy. And so manly," she purred. "Can I show you how much I like it?" She asked, slowly moving off of his lap. Steve watched as she moved down to his legs, hands hovering over his sweatpants.

"Oh god, please," he whined, heart racing as her hands slipped under his sweats.

[miaaaxxz]

Request : "Hello 👋 How are you ? Hope you are ok. Can i request a fwb to lovers with Max? Angst with happy ending. " requests open

And If I Stay? | MV1

almost. lost. found

summary: What began as a casual fling turns complicated when feelings get involved. After a painful silence and misunderstandings, the weight of what’s at stake becomes clear, but will they find a way back to each other?

pairing: fwb!max verstappen x reader

word count: 1.7K

The sheets were still tangled around your legs when he stood up.

It wasn’t like in the movies , no slow, lazy morning kisses, no lingering warmth in the silence between you two. Just the soft rustle of fabric, the distant hum of a car driving past outside, and the barely-there weight of him pulling his hoodie over his head.

“I gotta go,” Max said, voice rough from sleep or maybe from disinterest. You weren’t sure anymore.

“Training?”

“Yeah. First session’s early.”

You nodded into the pillow, not trusting your voice to sound neutral. You didn’t want to sound disappointed. Or clingy. Or ,god forbid , in love.

His shoes scuffed against the floor as he moved toward the door. Halfway there, he paused. You felt it, even with your eyes closed , the hesitation, the tension curling in the space between your shoulders.

Then you felt his lips on your temple.

Soft. Gentle. Just for a second.

And then he was gone.

You didn’t get up right away.

The bed felt colder without him, but you stayed anyway. Face half-buried in the pillow that still smelled like him.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

You weren’t supposed to care.

This was just fun. Just a thing. A mutually agreed upon arrangement between two people too busy, too broken, too guarded to want anything real. No promises. No good mornings. No “stay a little longer.”

But every time he left, you stayed.

And every time he didn’t text for a few days, your chest ached more than it should have.

You hated that you’d memorized the sound of his laugh , the real one.

You hated that you could recognize his footsteps in a hallway.

You hated that you watched his races and your heart pounded not because you were afraid he’d lose , but because you were afraid he’d win, and forget all about you in the celebrations.

Because someone like Max didn’t stay in moments like this.

He ran.

And maybe he didn’t mean to make you feel like this: disposable, invisible, temporary.

But the silence he left in his wake said more than any rejection ever could.

You pulled the sheets tighter around yourself and stared at the ceiling.

You weren’t his.

And that had been fine.

જ⁀➴

You didn’t hear from him for three days.

Not that you expected to , not really. That wasn’t the way this worked. Max texted when he wanted something. And when he didn’t… silence.

Still, a stupid, small part of you kept checking your phone anyway.

Refreshing Instagram. Closing it. Opening it again five seconds later like something would magically appear.

You weren’t looking for anything. Not specifically. You just didn’t want to be forgotten.

And then, of course, the universe laughed in your face.

The post showed up on your explore page. One of those F1 gossip accounts.

Max. At a club. Arm slung casually around a tall blonde in a backless dress. She was laughing at something he’d said, leaning into his chest like she belonged there.

His smile ,wide and easy, made your stomach twist. You hadn’t seen him smile like that around you in a long time.

“Max celebrating last night’s win in Monaco 🎉 Looks like someone had a great night 😉”

The comment section was full of flames, heart eyes, and a few people speculating on whether they were dating.

You stared at it for far too long, fingers tight around your phone, chest tightening with something you didn’t want to name.

Jealousy?

Heartache?

Humiliation?

No. That would imply you had some kind of right to feel any of those things.

And you didn’t.

You weren’t his girlfriend. You weren’t anything. You were just… available.

And somehow, that was the worst part the knowledge that you’d made yourself available. That you’d shown up every time he called, every time he needed someone, every time he was lonely and didn’t want to be alone.

But now, someone else was there ,someone prettier, taller, probably less complicated.

And she didn’t have to pretend she didn’t care.

The next evening, your phone buzzed.

A name on your screen.

Max.

You free tonight?

You didn’t answer.

You read the message twice. Then three more times.

Your heart clenched so hard it felt like it cracked.

He had no idea.

He didn’t know that you’d seen. That you’d stared at that photo until your eyes burned and your throat ached. That you’d cried even though you told yourself not to.

He didn’t know that you were trying not to fall apart over someone who was never really yours to begin with.

You locked your phone.

And then, slowly, you went into settings.

Blocked.

Just like that.

One tap.

Clean. Simple.

It wasn’t fair. You knew that. You knew he hadn’t broken any rules, hadn’t betrayed you, hadn’t made you any promises.

You didn’t cry. Not really.

Just a few tears, slipping down your cheeks without permission. Quiet. Steady.

You told yourself it was fine.

You’d be fine. After all, you couldn’t lose someone who was never really yours. Right?

It’s been three weeks since she stopped answering.

Three weeks of messages left on read, calls going unanswered.

Three weeks of silence growing louder inside him.

જ⁀➴

At first, Max told himself it was just life , the hectic schedule, the races, the traveling, maybe she needed space. Maybe she was upset, but not like this.

He replayed every conversation.

Every joke he made too late.

Every time he left early.

His mind spun in circles.

Did I push too hard? Was I too distant? Did I scare her away?

He sent texts.

No reply.

He called.

No answer.

Each day without hearing from her felt like losing something real.

He didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t know what had changed.

He didn’t even know if she was okay.

Until finally, he gave up on waiting for a sign.

Instead, he decided to go to her.

The night is cold and the rain falls steady as Max stands outside her door.

His clothes soaked, heart pounding.

He raises his fist and knocks soft, hesitant, unsure if she’ll even open it.

The door opens just a crack.

Her eyes meet his ,guarded, distant, weary.

“Hey,” he says, voice raw and trembling. “I didn’t know what was wrong. I didn’t know why you stopped talking to me.”

She stays silent.

“I tried,” he says, voice breaking. “For weeks, I tried to reach you. To understand. And the silence it felt like losing something I didn’t even know I needed.”

He swallows hard. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

The space between them thickens.

He takes a deep breath.

“I’ve never been good at saying what matters,” he admits. “I hide it. I pretend everything’s fine.”

She leans on the doorframe, silent and guarded.

“With you… I told myself I could keep it casual. That you were just someone I liked being around. Someone I could call when things got loud in my head.”

He laughs bitterly. “I lied to myself for months.”

His voice cracks.

“I memorized your schedule. Watched your stories even when I didn’t reply. Wanted to know what made you laugh, what songs you played, how you liked your coffee.”

He steps closer , careful, respectful.

“And when you weren’t there anymore, not just in messages, but in my life something inside me shut off.”

His jaw clenches. “Everything since then’s been noise. Races, parties, people. But without you, it’s just noise.”

She closes her eyes briefly.

“This is what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?”

Her voice is barely audible. “You don’t get to say this now. Not after acting like I didn’t matter. Like I was replaceable.”

He looks down, rain dripping from his lashes.

“I know.”

He means it.

“I was scared. Scared that if I let this mean something, I’d fuck it up. That I’d lose you anyway. So I kept you close, but not too close. I thought that was safer.”

No reply.

He steps back a fraction.

“But I think about you every damn day,” he says quietly. “And no matter how much I mess this up, I just don’t want to be without you anymore.”

The streetlight flickers. A car splashes past.

Neither moves.

Finally, she asks:

“If I let you in again… what then? What does that look like, Max?”

He’s silent for a beat.

“It looks like me showing up. Properly. Not just in your bed. Not just when it’s easy.”

A pause.

“Slow mornings. Staying. Learning how to love someone the way they deserve.”

The silence breathes between them.

She reaches for the doorframe, voice small but steady:

“You don’t get to leave again. Not like that.”

“I won’t.”

“And if you get scared?”

“I’ll stay anyway.”

He steps closer.

“If you tell me to walk away right now,” he says, “I will. But know this , I’ll still love you. Even if I don’t say it out loud yet. Even if I don’t know how.”

Her eyes sting. Heart tight.

Finally… she opens the door.

Only a little.

Just enough to say:

“Then stay.”

[i2rizz]

can i ask a version of “no way he pulled that”about shidou? where reader is not only gorgeous, she’s also like the total opposite of him, please and thank u💗💗

Sure girll! There were also other requests for shidou from anons so this is for yall too.

No Way He Pulled That Pt.12

There was a rumor floating around NEL.

Not the usual one about Rin and Isagi’s passive-aggressive arguments, or about Reo buying three new jet skis just to race them down the hallway (which did, in fact, happen). No, this one was different. More outlandish.

Apparently… Ryusei Shidou had a girlfriend.

Which—let’s be real—no one believed.

Rin straight-up laughed. "No woman with a functioning nervous system would voluntarily be with that thing"

Barou didn’t even entertain it. "You mean someone tolerates him?"

Even Isagi, ever the peacemaker, said, "He probably made her up"

Chigiri had the most logical explanation: "She’s probably imaginary and lives in his ego"

But Shidou kept talking about you like you were real.

"I got a volleyball queen, bro. She's got that ‘I could ruin your life and you'd say thank you’ kind of look! Trust"

No one bought it.

So when NEL organized a beach day—partly to relax, partly to stop Shidou from threatening to set the weight room on fire again—Shidou just grinned. "Hope y’all like volleyball"

It started like any other beach day: sunscreen flying, Bachira doing flips in the sand, Reo building a comically massive umbrella fortress, and Nagi lying facedown under it like a collapsed Roman statue.

Kaiser tried to start a game of beach soccer. Isagi threatened to drown him. Typical stuff.

And then someone said, "Hey, isn’t that a volleyball net set up down there?"

The boys looked.

Farther down the beach, the sun caught the glint of a net swaying lightly in the breeze. And then they saw her.

You.

You moved like poetry in motion.

Barefoot in the warm sand, black volleyball shorts hugging your legs, a fitted swim bra that left just enough to the imagination, and your hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that bounced as you leapt up—smack!—and absolutely spiked the volleyball over the net like your life depended on it.

The way your muscles flexed, the confident arch of your back, the way you laughed when you missed a hit but adjusted with ease the next second—

You were dangerous.

Not just beautiful—but lethal. That mix of elegant and athletic, with a face that belonged on the cover of Vogue and a presence that screamed: I could ruin your ego with a single comment.

And God, you were smiling. Not just sweetly—fondly.

Especially when your eyes drifted toward the group of NEL boys gawking from a distance. More specifically—to him.

Shidou, who had been unusually quiet for five whole minutes (a personal record), was grinning so hard it looked painful.

"That’s her" he said proudly, like he just dropped a nuke on their fragile psyches.

"NO WAY IN HELL!"

Isagi dropped his water.

Aiku blinked and whispered, "I think I’m in love with her already"

Barou scowled harder than the sun could burn.

Rin squinted. "She’s…smiling. At him?"

Chigiri looked personally betrayed. "You’re telling me he pulled that?"

Kaiser straight-up choked on his drink. "No. No way. This is PR. He hired her"

"Oh? She lookin’ this good for fun now?" Shidou smirked, tossing his shirt over his shoulder like the menace he is. "That’s my girl, boys"

As if to punctuate his statement, you jogged over after winning the set, your smile radiant, your arms glistening with a sheen of sweat, volleyball cradled in your hand like a trophy.

"Baby!" you beamed.

Baby.

The boys blinked.

You jogged straight up to Shidou, leaned into his space like you owned it (you did), and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He grinned so wide he developed dimples.

They lost it.

"THAT'S ACTUALLY HER?" Isagi hissed. "I thought he made her up!"

"No way," Chigiri muttered, looking personally offended. "She's normal looking. Like, emotionally stable and everything"

"Maybe she hit her head" Rin said.

"You think she's being held hostage?" Nagi offered.

"Blink twice if you need help!" Reo yelled across the sand.

You just laughed.

"What, didn’t believe me?" Shidou purred, arm snaking around your waist. "Told you I don’t cap about perfection"

You rolled your eyes, tapping his nose. "You also told me dolphins were just ‘ocean dogs,’ so forgive their skepticism"

"See?" Aiku hissed. "She’s funny, too! And she touches him without flinching!"

"She deserves an oscar for putting up w him" Isagi muttered.

"She needs therapy" Rin grumbled.

"She could kill me and I’d thank her" Bachira added dreamily.

Nagi, still lying facedown in the sand, mumbled, "Too much light. Can’t look directly at her"

Meanwhile, you turned to Shidou again, gently fixed his crooked necklace, and said, "You forgot sunscreen on your shoulders again, didn't you?"

The man who once bit a player on the field melted instantly. He looked like a golden retriever being praised.

"Oh my god," Barou said in horror. "He's soft"

"He let her touch him," Bachira whispered, stunned.

"He didn't bite her," Isagi added.

"He kissed her cheek," Charles muttered.

"Maybe she has a taser," Rin concluded.

You turned to them with a sweet smile and a wave. "Oh btw, I'm (Name)!"

Dead silence.

Then Bachira, bless his soul, grinned. "Can I get adopted into whatever romantic comedy you two live in?"

Shidou tossed an arm over your shoulder. "Don't get jealous now, losers. You could never"

And that was the day the NEL realized: Ryusei Shidou did, in fact, have a girlfriend.

Not just a girlfriend. A walking, talking goddess with soft eyes, who gently told him to stop harassing seagulls and actually listened when he started ranting about new goal techniques.

The worst part?

You actually liked him.

You laughed at his jokes. You held his hand. You kissed him like he didn't start fistfights just for fun. And every time he looked at you, it was like watching a rabid pitbull turn into a very confused housecat.

Shidou would grin and say, "Yeah, I'm the luckiest bastard alive"

And everyone else would whisper behind his back, "How the hell did he pull her?!"

And the cherry on top?

When Shidou turned and yelled, "Ey! Who wants to get demolished in volleyball by me and my queen?!"

You just smirked, tossing the ball in the air. "Losers serve first"

They never stood a chance.

[jzprncess]

love language by sza

“help me understand how you speak your love language ”

pairing: Max Verstappen x Y/N reader

part 1/2 next part

word count: 2,823

summary: a girlfriend of a successful f1 driver decides to learn Dutch to better understand her boyfriends world—his culture, his emotions, and the language he speaks—hoping to connect more deeply and navigate the complexities of their high-speed, high-pressure relationship.

note: first time writing a fan fiction so be nice please! i don’t know how to work tumblr to the fullest so if you want to requests anything, message it to me! this will be in two parts! please leave comments so i know im doing something right!!

　　　　　　 ❛ ━━･♡❪ ❁ ❫♡･━━ ❜

Out of all the unexpected turns her life had taken, learning another language was never on Y/N's radar. Yet, here she was, grappling with the complexities of Dutch, staring at her laptop screen during a Zoom call with her tutor, Anne. They had been chatting frequently, especially while Max was off competing in a grueling triple-header race weekend.

Before he left, Y/N had noticed the shadow of frustration in Max's eyes, a rare shift from his usually upbeat demeanor. It wasn’t lost on her—or anyone, really. The weight of the season’s challenges had begun to press down on him, making his once confident posture seem a little more hunched, his usual optimism now clouded by self-doubt. Everyone could see it. With the way the season had started, Max had envisioned triumph. But now, in October, his hopes felt distant. He hadn’t clinched a victory since June, and every reminder of that fact only seemed to add to his frustration. Y/N wished she could lift that burden, even if just for a moment.

In an attempt to brighten his spirits, she decided to do something special for him—a gesture that would help him escape the pressure he was under. The very day he departed, Y/N found herself scouring the internet, searching for someone who could teach her some basic Dutch. Max, ever the romantic, had always whispered sweet phrases in his native tongue—whether it was giving her a compliment or simply wishing her a good morning. And though she often required translations, Y/N thought, Why not learn the language myself? It couldn’t be that difficult, right?

And so, here she was, earnestly trying to master the phrase “I love you, handsome” in Dutch, yet somehow fumbling over the words.

“Y/N, your pronunciation is getting better, but you need to keep practicing,” Anne encouraged from the other side of the screen, her fingers dancing over her keyboard. The rhythmic sound of her typing seemed to fill the space between them, as if punctuating her words with gentle encouragement. “Have you taken my advice and started watching shows in Dutch? Immersing yourself in the language will really help you improve, especially with those tricky pronunciations.”

Y/N leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms, and stared at the screen, her lips pressing together as she tried to hold back the exhaustion creeping in. She had been working hard at this—between the classes, the practice, the late nights watching Dutch shows, and the constant racing schedule with Max, it was all starting to feel like a lot. “Yeah, I’ve been talking to the TV like it’s my best friend,” she said with a small, self-deprecating chuckle, her voice sounding a bit weary. “The characters probably think I’m crazy by now. But, you know, I think I’m making progress? Or at least I hope I am.”

Anne’s eyebrows raised in an encouraging way. “Well, that’s the spirit! The more you immerse yourself, the more natural it will feel. Dutch can be tricky, especially with its sounds, but you’re not giving up, and that’s what matters.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples. It had been one of those days—between working on the language and managing the quiet space Max left behind when he was away, the weight of it all was starting to wear on her. “I don’t know... I keep stumbling over the same words, Anne. Like, I feel like I’m so close to getting it, but then I hear myself speak Dutch, and it just sounds... off. I’m trying, but it’s hard to know if I’m really improving.”

Anne smiled gently from the screen, as though she understood exactly where Y/N was coming from. “That’s completely normal. Language learning isn’t a straight path. There are ups and downs, but the key is to be patient with yourself. Remember, it’s not about perfection—it’s about progress. You’re already doing so much more than most people would.”

“I guess so.” Y/N’s voice softened, her eyes drifting away for a moment, lost in thought. “I just wish I could see it, you know? Max always speaks so fluently, and when he says something sweet in Dutch, it sounds so effortless. I want to understand it all, to be able to speak with him like that without stumbling or needing translations.”

Anne nodded, her face sympathetic. “I get that. You want to connect with him in the language that’s so familiar to him, and that’s a beautiful thing. But don’t forget, language is just one part of communication. Max will appreciate your effort no matter where you are in your learning. It’s about the intention, the heart behind it. And besides, if you’re working hard at it, he’ll see that.”

Y/N let out a small sigh, leaning forward in her chair and running a hand through her hair. “I just want him to know how much I’m trying. I know it’s hard for him when the season gets tough, and I want to be able to understand him better, not just the words, but how he’s feeling... especially when he gets frustrated. I want to be able to share those moments with him in his language.” She looked back up at Anne, a mixture of fatigue and determination in her eyes. "But it's like I'm still learning a whole new world, Anne. It's a lot to take in."

Anne’s expression softened even more. “Learning a language is like learning a new way to see the world. And you’re doing it for the right reasons. Max will notice that. Even if you don’t think you’re where you want to be yet, he’s going to appreciate your effort, your commitment to him and to his language. And you’re already showing him that you care in ways most people wouldn’t.”

Y/N gave a faint smile, feeling the weight of Anne’s words settle into her. She took another deep breath, her gaze flickering back to the screen. “I hope so. I’m doing this for him, and... for me, too. It’s just hard to see the progress sometimes when you’re so deep in it.”

“Well, keep at it, Y/N,” Anne encouraged again, her voice gentle but firm. “The progress is there, even when you can’t see it. And remember, when Max comes back, you’ll have a whole new way of connecting. That’s something special. Now, how about we wrap up for today, and next time, we focus on a few of those tricky sounds you’ve been stumbling over?”

Y/N nodded, the exhaustion beginning to fade as she felt a renewed sense of determination wash over her. "Yeah, let’s do that. Thanks, Anne. Really."

Anne smiled warmly, her tone softening. “Good night, Y/N. You’re doing great. Keep going, and keep believing in yourself.”

With that, the call ended, leaving Y/N in the quiet of her room. As the screen went dark, she sat still for a moment, letting Anne’s words settle into her. She still had a long way to go with Dutch, but now, she felt a little less weighed down by it all. She stood up from the desk, stretched, and with a deep breath, made her way to the kitchen. There was more to learn, yes, but she could do it. For Max. And for herself

This had become her routine for the past few weeks—immersing herself in a new language while navigating the emotional ups and downs of Max's racing career. Each night flowed into the next, filled with lessons and the hope that her efforts would spark joy in him when he returned. In a way, she couldn’t help but feel that this small adventure might not only help her connect with him in a deeper way but also serve as a reminder that even in tough times, he had someone in his corner—someone ready to support him and learn alongside him.

Time passed, and soon enough, the hectic three-race weekend was behind them.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure when Max would be home. The unpredictable nature of his F1 schedule made it hard to keep track of his exact arrival time. As the hours stretched on, she decided to make the most of the quiet afternoon. She started by tidying up the house, picking up scattered race memorabilia and smoothing out the couch cushions, which always seemed to get tossed around after a long weekend of travel. The kitchen was next—dishes stacked in the sink, a few crumbs left from breakfast, and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. She cleaned with a kind of absent-minded rhythm, her thoughts drifting between the tasks at hand and the excitement of his return.

Not wanting to spend the whole day indoors, Y/N grabbed her coat, slipped into her shoes, and decided to run a few errands to break the monotony. She mentally made a list of things she needed—a trip to the grocery store for fresh produce, perhaps a quick stop at the florist to pick up some flowers for the dining table. The gentle hum of the city as she walked outside felt like a welcome distraction. As she moved through the familiar streets, her mind kept drifting to Max—imagining his arrival later that evening and wondering how he would feel after the intense race weekend. With a small smile, she pushed the thought aside. There were errands to run, and time had a way of slipping by faster when you were busy.

After a while, Y/N decided it was time to head back home, the errands and quiet city stroll leaving her feeling a bit more tired than usual. The exhaustion crept up slowly, settling into her bones in the best way—a peaceful kind of tiredness that made the thought of being home all the more appealing. Once she stepped inside, she kicked off her shoes by the door and shrugged off her jacket, instantly feeling the comfort of her own space wrap around her.

She sank onto the couch, letting the weight of the day melt away, but it wasn’t long before she found herself wanting to do something—something simple and familiar to bring a sense of warmth and routine to the day. The kitchen seemed like the perfect place. She stepped into the kitchen, the warmth of the space a comforting contrast to the quiet of the house. Her mind immediately wandered to dessert—something sweet to fill the silence. Pulling out her phone, she swiped through a few recipe sites, curiosity leading her fingers. After a moment, she typed "Dutch desserts" into the search bar. Her eyes quickly landed on appeltaart, the iconic Dutch apple pie. The thought of the rich, spiced apples wrapped in buttery crust made her stomach rumble. It was exactly what the moment called for.

With a smile, she set the phone down and rolled up her sleeves. The comforting hum of her favorite playlist began to fill the room, chasing away the silence and replacing it with familiar tunes. As the music flowed through the speakers, she started pulling ingredients from the pantry—flour, sugar, butter, and cinnamon. She paused for a moment, letting the soft beat of the song take over as she laid everything out on the counter. The scent of cinnamon already began to stir a feeling of warmth and anticipation.

With a deep breath, she moved into the rhythm of the recipe, the steady motion of measuring, mixing, and prepping grounding her. She could already picture the golden crust and warm, sweet filling that would soon fill the kitchen, and her heart swelled with a sense of simple joy.

As she hummed softly to the tune playing in the background, completely engrossed in the rhythm of her mixing and the warmth of the kitchen, she remained oblivious to Max stepping through the front door, his footsteps barely audible on the hardwood floor. Max paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the room before he crept quietly toward the kitchen, careful not to make a sound. He peeked around the corner, his gaze falling on you as you worked your magic, your movements fluid and focused. A smile tugged at his lips as the sweet scent of apple pie hit him, and he inhaled deeply, savoring the warm, comforting aroma that filled the air.

Max moved silently behind her, his steps light as he closed the distance between them. With a smile, he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close against him. He rested his chin on her shoulder for a moment, savoring the warmth of her presence, before pressing a tender kiss to her soft skin. As he inhaled the sweet scent of the kitchen, his lips brushed her shoulder, and he murmured in a low, appreciative voice, "Smells amazing."

The unexpected touch causes her to flinch, a small gasp escaping her as she instinctively tenses, but her body quickly relaxes when she turns to find Max standing there. A soft smile tugs at her lips as she meets his gaze. "I didn't hear you come in," she murmurs, her voice gentle and warm as she leans slightly into his embrace, feeling the comforting weight of his presence. She glances toward the counter, her hands still lightly dusted with flour, and then looks back at him, her eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and pride. "I made apple—" Her words falter for a brief moment, and she pauses, taking a breath before finishing with a playful smile, "Ik heb appeltaart gemaakt." (i made apple pie) She lets the Dutch phrase roll off her tongue with a touch of pride, her eyes lighting up as she anticipates his reaction to the homemade treat and at the sudden Dutch.

Max chuckles, the sound warm and teasing. "Oh, dus je spreekt nu Nederlands?" (Oh, so you speak Dutch now?) His eyes narrow playfully as he takes her in, studying her with a hint of disbelief, almost as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. It takes a moment for her to process his words, the surprise registering on her face before a grin tugs at her lips. She lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head slightly as she meets his gaze. “Leren voor jou,” she responds with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, her voice light and teasing as she repeats the phrase—"Learning for you."

Max hums contentedly into her skin, his voice soft but filled with affection. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" His words are a gentle murmur, as though he's savoring the moment. She chuckles, the sound warm and light, as she wipes her hands on a nearby towel. Without missing a beat, she spins around, her eyes sparkling, and wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace. "I've missed you," she whispers into his chest, her voice filled with sincerity, as if the distance between them had only made her feelings stronger.

He gently pulls away, his hands lingering at her waist as he looks down at her, his eyes soft with affection. There’s a quiet warmth in his gaze, a tenderness that makes his heart swell with emotion. "I've missed you too," he murmurs, his voice low and sincere, the words wrapped in a quiet vulnerability. He smiles, a soft, almost teasing glint in his eyes as he adds, "Mijntje," (my little one), his tone filled with both love and playfulness. With a tender sigh, he leans down, his face drawing closer to hers. As he lowers himself, he brushes his lips gently against hers, the kiss soft and lingering, a promise of everything he feels for her in that quiet, intimate moment. 

She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, her breath catching in the space between them. Her heart races, each beat carrying the weight of everything she feels for him. Her hands rest gently on his chest as she searches his gaze, finding warmth, safety, and a quiet promise there. With a soft sigh, she leans in just a little closer, her lips barely brushing his as she whispers, her voice trembling with sincerity, "Ik hou van jou."

The words, though soft, are heavy with all the emotions she can't quite put into words—years of trust, laughter, passion, and quiet moments, all wrapped in those simple yet profound syllables. His breath hitches, and a smile plays on his lips as he leans in, closing the small space between them with a kiss that feels like both a promise and a beginning. There’s a warmth radiating between them, an unspoken yearning that lingers in the air, electrifying yet restrained. The kiss deepens, lingering just a moment longer, igniting a flutter of anticipation in her chest—a taste of what could be. As they pull away, their eyes lock, and in that shared gaze lies a world of possibilities, a silent acknowledgment of the passion that awaits them.

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tag list : @heluvsjappie