#that even though. the same way she's always there. everyone else is always there from her perspective

[yuechihua]

your love is the greatest sin.

summary: As a humble librarian, you're only interested in stories. Anaxa promises to give you the grandest story of them all.

notes: 8.9k words, author's notes, spoilers for 3.2, chest cavity and organ touching, ambiguous relationships

You were eighteen the first time you heard about Anaxa, though you didn’t think much of him at first.

“Watch out for that mad alchemist. If you’re going to survive here, then avoid Anaxagoras,” someone joked to you, and you nodded numbly.

Back then, in those first few days of your arrival at the Grove of Epiphany, you had little time for anything outside of survival. You had nothing save the clothes on your back and the torn edges of a few slim books you managed to save before the black tide swallowed your home and your family.

If you weren’t staying up late each night reading the books your father cherished, then you were disoriented by the swaying whispers of divine branches that woke you every morning, the eternal night that shadowed your window, the internal politics of a people entrenched deeply in academia. 

Still, you couldn’t escape Anaxa even then, infamy blooming with his every odd experiment and reckless movement. His name was always on the tips of everyone’s tongues, accompanied by admiration or reprobation. 

He was mad, people said. A heretic, using the intelligence Ceres blessed him with for all the wrong reasons. The sages should kick him out for the ideas he held, ones that seemed more intended to outrage than to produce any meaningful discourse.

“It’s better to stay out of his way,” one of your gossipy classmates advised you. You had decent enough relationships with your peers, but you primarily kept to yourself and took internal notes of the various topics that fascinated them. “He’s so rude, and he doesn’t care about anything but his experiments!”

“He’s very smart, though,” someone else chimed in. “If you can stomach the way he talks, you can ask him for his notes. Best ones I’ve ever seen.”

Anaxagoras, Anaxa, the Great Performer. What an odd man. You kept his name tucked away in the corner of your mind to turn over like a golden coin, spied his fluttering hair out of the corner of your eye, saw the sheen of black fabric covering his eye, and heard the echo of his brisk steps passing you in the halls. 

He was an oddity that sparked your interest, even if he never seemed to notice you. That was fair enough; you were only another pair of eyes in a crowd of them, and he must have grown used to the attention by the time you arrived.

Still, you had little time to worry over Anaxa outside of those stray moments when your paths collided, heretic or not. You had fled to the Grove of Epiphany for a particular reason, out of all the other city-states you could have taken refuge in.

You were here for the library, which housed the largest collection of stories Amphoreus had ever seen. Its wealth of knowledge would have fed a starving man for centuries, and you were a supplicant begging for even a morsel.

You were weaned on stories from your very first memories. Your father read you books from his private collection, and your mother spun stories from her own imagination or that she remembered from the words of others. Even your older brother took you out to see travelling storytellers or the nearby temple to hear about the myths of gods.

“Stories are the most beautiful things in the world,” your father told you. “They can house a world’s memories, a culture’s legacy.”

Stories were the only ways for things to survive, and it was how people could outlive their limited lifespans. After all, if you didn’t tell your family’s story to yourself, then you would have killed them twice. You poured over your memories, even when it was a story that could only end in the same way every time: your mother, pushing you out the backdoor and telling you to run as she gripped a rusty knife in hand. You father, handing you a few cherished books from his private collection, your only inheritance. Your older brother, biding you to hide with shaking hands as he ran out to distract the monsters.

People were finite. Stories were not

In a few more months at the Grove, you wormed your way into an assistant librarian position, content for now with the jobs of shelving books and organizing the catalogue, cocooned in your world of ink and paper, getting to touch the face of every new scroll or book that passed its way into the archives.

For all intended purposes, your life was going according to plan. You were surrounded by stories, and you were certain that after studying library sciences and dedicating all your time here, you could take the role of head librarian one day. Yet, why did it feel like you were still missing something?

That was when you first met Anaxa as he glided into the library with a relaxed arrogance that drew ire and admiration from all of your classmates, robes fluttering behind him.

“I need these books,” he told you curtly, without looking at your face. He slid a sheet of parchment across your desk, scrawled with the names of tedious-sounding titles. His handwriting, you were surprised to find, was an elegant, looping scrawl.

“Some of these books have restricted access,” you said, scanning the list. He was a man you had heard so much about, and yet, he was still just that: a man. Still, there was a gravitas to his bearing. This was someone who would truly do something remarkable in his lifetime. “You need permission from a professor or a librarian before you can check them out. Some of these books are quite controversial.”

“Controversial only because people were unwilling to acknowledge anything that didn’t reinforce their limited worldview,” Anaxa said. 

“Well, in a world ruled by the Titans, it’s controversial to posit that they could ever be similar to us.”

“The boundary between divinity and humanity is a false one,” he said. “But you can’t access these books?”

“It’s not within my authority,” you acknowledged. “These books are especially rare because their production was stopped early, or people burned so many copies we only have these few left. So they’re kept under tight supervision.”

Anaxa turned, his interest in you gone now that you couldn’t give him what he wanted.

Your heartbeat quickened at the loss of attention, of how easily this strange man was going to slip through your fingers. Maybe that was why you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “But I could, technically, find a way. If you made it worth my time.”

Anaxa turned back around, finally looking you in the eyes, observing you in the same way he looked at a lab specimen on a dissecting table, keen gaze intent on flaying you open. “What do you mean by that?” 

“Nothing that would inconvenience you much, really. Something simple. You’re an alchemist, right? Consider it an act of equivalent exchange.” The idea spun itself into existence as you voiced it, an answer to your tedium you hadn’t realized you were considering until now. “I want to witness your story.”

“A story? You’re surrounded by books.”

“I’m curious,” you said, “about a story only you can tell me. They call you a heretic, you know. The things you’ve told me are things most people wouldn’t even dare voice. So I want to see where your path leads.”

Anaxa still watched you, as if the dissection he thought would be simple had suddenly unearthed a new complication. “If you’re going to bring up an equivalent exchange, what am I getting out of this? You’re the only one who benefits from such an arrangement.”

“I know this place better than anyone else. It’s easier to get your hands on something when you have someone on the inside, don’t you think? There’s a chance if you ask for permission from someone else, they’ll refuse your request.”

“And if someone catches and punishes you for misconduct? You would risk your position for a story?”

“Not just any story,” you corrected. “Your story. This is beneficial for both of us. Besides, you’re a performer, right? Don’t you want an audience who’s going to watch you attentively until the very end?”

“That’s a bold proposition, librarian,” he said. 

“Are you going to refuse?”

“No. I think it’s an interesting idea. I’ll agree to your terms.”

“It’ll be a pleasure to work with you,” you said. 

You held out your hand, and after a beat, Anaxa slid his into your grip. His hand was papery soft and cool, thin, elegant fingers wrapping around yours. They didn’t seem like the hands of a heretic.

“Now. My books?” Anaxa prompted, withdrawing his hand immediately. 

“I’ll get them for you.”

Basking in the afterglow of your unexpected meeting and his ready agreement, you relished in the chance to observe him up close. Anaxa was a bizarre character who challenged everything that was determined as an immutable fact, and he would change the Grove.

You would watch him until he didn’t find you useful, or you grew bored. Fate might spin its wheels, and tangle you helplessly in its threads as it wrenched you along, but this relationship, at least, was clear.

In a matter of weeks, you came to recognize Anaxa’s presence in the library by the sound of his light and decisive footsteps and the scent of ink, chemicals, and paper that trailed him wherever he went. He showed up at a similar time every day, and his appearance became so embedded in your routine you didn’t even have to raise your head to acknowledge his presence; he only announced himself by sliding a paper of all his various requested books across your desk. 

“I need these books,” he said.

You scanned the list. “This one hasn’t been mentioned in our records in several decades. I’d have to dig through our archives to find it.”

“Well? Is it too hard for you, then?” Anaxa raised an eyebrow in silent challenge. 

Asshole. You stood with a clatter of your chair. “Not at all.”

He was one of your most frequent patrons, and easily the most annoying. Every day it seemed he came with new demands and a list of obscure books that you had to dig through the shelves to find. As soon as you brought out his staggering collections of tomes, he perched on the edge of your desk, flipping through them and remarking on their contents.

It didn’t bother you too much as you were always flitting between shelving new returns, sorting through the catalogues, and helping students with their various requests. But no matter how long it took you to accomplish all of your tasks, Anaxa was always waiting when you came back, posture still neat and legs crossed, one over the other. Privately, you’d begun to think of him as the library’s resident cat in the way he lounged in places that most inconvenienced you.

“It took you twenty minutes to assist the student this time, librarian,” he said, without looking up from his book. “Perhaps you aren’t as familiar with the library’s layouts as you claim.”

“It’s still faster than you would be. There are centuries of books to sort through, and sometimes these students only have a general idea of what they want and not a specific title,” you replied. “Wouldn’t it be more comfortable for you to sit in my chair or find somewhere else to read?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Anaxa said. “What do you think about the soul?”

“Immaterial, difficult to work with, and the basis of an overwhelming amount of philosophy books in the library.”

“And the gods?”

“I don’t care much for them, though I am familiar with all of their stories. They only matter to me insofar as they relate to the books housed here.”

Anaxa laughed. “Why, that sounds borderline blasphemous.”

You sighed, slouching back in your chair. Your desk was a curve of polished wood located near the center of the room, in perfect view of every student who wandered the library so they knew exactly where to go for help. Though with Anaxa’s presence, they only approached you when you wandered the stacks, or he was absent for the day.

There were already rumors springing up about your relationship and how much time the two of you spent together. You warded off your classmates’ inquiries with a practiced smile, as you were the more approachable of the two. Even if you wanted to answer them, there wasn’t one you could give. You barely knew what to call the two of you yourself.

Were you close to him? You wouldn’t say that. You hadn’t really let yourself grow close to anyone here on principle. What word described the two of you best? Friend felt too kind of a word. Lover was irrefutably wrong. Partner was at least somewhat correct, but lacked context. If nothing else, then the best explanation was that Anaxa was a planet and you were a moon, drawn into his orbit for no other reason than the natural rules of gravity. 

“I believe your only god is memory,” Anaxa said.

You didn’t spare him a glance as you idly picked at the supplies lining your desk, lining the stacks of papers and colorful pots of ink in neat formation. “Then your god is truth, though I’d like to say your god is also yourself.”

“Then we’re not so different.”

“Are you going to keep needling at me, or are you going to fulfill your end of the bargain?”

Anaxa tilted his head. With his hands braced on the edge of the desk, he leaned closer to you, an insufferable smile playing on his lips. “I already am, librarian. A story can only be defined in the retrospective, once it comes to an end. Right now, you’re in the process of witnessing mine, aren’t you?”

“I just hope for more from the person they call the great performer,” you said evenly. 

“And what are you hoping for, precisely?”

“A good story.”

Anaxa placed a hand on his chest in mock sincerity. “Then you won’t be disappointed. Have some patience! Good stories require proper build-up.”

He was an infuriating man, through and through. But he was an infuriating man you had decided to tie yourself to, and you would see where his road would lead him in the end.

In the next several years that passed, Anaxa devoted himself to the pursuit of higher knowledge, working as the assistant of professors and pursuing his doctorate, and you pulled yourself up one tedious position at a time until you were working full-time at the library, losing yourself in documentation and categorization. There were always new books being brought in that had to be labeled, sorted, and registered in the library’s catalogue, more stories for you to devour.

No one had a complaint about you as you cared for nothing but your stories, it seemed Anaxa always found a way to needle those in charge, and he never tired of their outrage and indignation. His dreams were lofty, his inspirations grander than anyone could understand. And through it all, you watched him, taking note of all his movements: how he slept little and mumbled to himself, scribbled alchemical equations on any available surface, and the way manic light suffused his eyes when he came to a supposed breakthrough.

Anaxa slid into the framework of your life without any preamble or fuss, as natural as the air you breathed or the blood in your veins. His presence by your side was natural, and you only paused to acknowledge him when someone brought him to your attention. Your strange little relationship eventually expanded beyond the confines of the library. Anaxa still visited you there, but now, the two of you were prone to meeting in courtyards or various classrooms, wherever it was convenient to steal a moment to converse.

Your classmates no longer commented on your relationship, though you did still get the odd stare here and there. The two of you existed in your own little bubble, uninterested in other people outside of what they could offer you.

“Is it true that the two of you are dating?” New students were prone to asking you that question, with all the boldness and innocence that youth commanded. This one was no different, and she watched you with curious eyes.

“I can’t date Anaxa because he’s already in a committed relationship with his research. I can’t ask him to cheat,” you replied dryly.

“I didn’t give you permission to call me Anaxa,” he sniped.

“That’s because I gave myself permission.”

However, the closeness you semi-enjoyed with Anaxa came with one major detriment: a lack of respect for your personal space. 

“Librarian, wake up.”

You grumbled, emerging from your fragmented sleep, the cobweb of dreams still clinging to your mind. With sunlight warming your face and a nest of blankets wrapped around your body, you were loath to wake. And yet you did to Anaxa staring unsmiling down at you, arms crossed.

You swore viciously, scrambling upright and drawing your blankets closer to yourself. You launched a pillow at him, which Anaxa promptly side-stepped.

“Good morning,” he said.

“How did you get in here?”

“You left your door unlocked.”

“And you didn’t knock?”

“You didn’t answer, and I needed your assistance. I’ll give you ten minutes to get ready.”

“Make it thirty! And get out of here!” You threw another pillow at his retreating back. 

It really was like you had become close to a cat. Without a care in the world, he flounced into your life and took your lack of rejection as an invitation to make himself comfortable. It was simply more effort to chase him away than to let him in.

After making yourself as presentable as you could, you were out the door five minutes earlier than expected. Anaxa waited just outside, and the two of you took off side by side at a leisurely pace.

“So? What do you want?” you prompted.

“I have an invitation from Okhema. One of the Chrysos Heirs came directly to speak with me.”

“And…?”

“They were extending me an invitation to become a Chrysos Heir and join them on their journey.”

It was impossible to exist anywhere in Amphoreus and not hear of the Chrysos Heirs. They always felt more like distant legends than anything tangible, but it was a story you had some vested interest in. “You? A Chrysos Heir? What did you say?”

“Of course, I rejected their offer,” he said. “I have no interest in the Flame-Chase Journey, or going to Okhema for some grand destiny laid out for me by the gods.”

“But once you’re chosen, even if you don’t go to Okhema and you reject their path, you’re a Chrysos Heir for good.”

“So what? Other people can call me whatever title they like, but it has no influence on who I am or what I intend to accomplish,” Anaxa said.

“And what is it that you intend to do?”

“I plan to start my own school of knowledge here, and then I will become one of the seven sages.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of your throat. “Arrogant as always, but I expect no less.”

The two of you had been winding through the various gardens and courtyards that interspersed the Grove. Soft light filtered playfully through the grove, branches and plants twining around marble patios and columns. It was beautiful, and this was the closest place you could call home.

“And you?” Anaxa said. “What do you plan to do?”

“Stay here and work in the library,” you said. “Someone has to manage it. You should know this.”

“And the Chrysos Heirs?”

“They only interest me insofar as they relate to you and whatever you plan to do,” you said. You skim a hand along one of the branches closest to you, an outshooting of the Sacred Tree, the manifestation of Ceres, the Titan of Reason. The wood is full of delicate whorls like the tight folds of a brain, emanating its own heat and humming under your touch.

“You have the capacity to be one yourself. The messenger they sent hinted as much. If you were interested, you could talk to them.”

You laughed again. “Well, I only have the capacity to be one, right? I wasn’t chosen, not like you, and that’s for good reason. I have no interest in being a saviour for other people.”

The two of you come to a stop in a secluded garden. Everywhere you gazed, you saw the soft, verdant green that announced Ceres’s continued presence and blessing. There must have been irony somewhere that Ceres accepted everyone in the pursuit of knowledge, even those who didn’t believe in them, or loathed them.

“You really don’t believe in the gods,” Anaxa mused.

“I don’t believe in anything but my stories,” you said. You couldn’t stop the bitterness that creeps into your voice. “If the gods were truly omnipotent and omnipresent, they would have stopped the black tide.”

A breeze rustled Anaxa’s hair. He watched you in silent contemplation. “You’re angry.”

“Isn’t everyone? I’ve lost my family, Anaxa. They sacrificed themselves so I could escape, but for what? There’s no safety. There’s not even a guaranteed future I can look forward to.”

“You doubt humanity’s ability to succeed, librarian, even after all the stories you’ve read.” There’s a rare note of intense emotion in Anaxa’s voice, like you’re a stubborn student in one of the classes he assisted in. “You should understand more than anyone else humanity’s potential. If the gods can fail, then that means they are no different from us, and we can succeed where they can’t.”

Despite what everyone thought of Anaxa, his mania and arrogance, what you couldn’t stand the most was his unrelenting faith in humanity’s future. It was a clear belief, one you didn’t understand. You strode closer to him until you were only a breath apart. His single eye stared down impassively at you, a brilliant, jeweled shard that you could cut yourself on. “Then show me something I can believe in.”

Before you could pull away, Anaxa gripped your wrist, using your momentary shock to guide your hand to his eyepatch. Your fingers rested gingerly on the fabric, though you had an inkling that if you were to slide them under, Anaxa would let you. It was a dangerous sort of permission, a line crossed in your relationship that hadn’t been breached before.

Neither of you moved. In a conversational tone, as if this was another one of your light-hearted spats, Anaxa said, “I lost this eye when I tried to bring my sister back from death. Like a fool, I had failed to consider that an eye was not an equivalent enough sacrifice for one life.”

“Your sister?”

“Lost to the black tide, like your family.”

You brushed a finger down the fabric covering his lost eye, as gentle as a butterfly’s kiss. “So we’ve both lost people we loved. How do you find it to keep going?”

“Simple. The gods are false shackles, binding us to our uncertainty and passivity. I intend to break those shackles. Isn’t it the same for how you live for your stories? Because you want something more than the pitiful narrative that’s been penned for humanity?”

“So I live for my stories, and you live for your goals. But that does make me wonder. What else would you sacrifice, Anaxa?”

He burned with an unnatural fervor, a pale flame that would never extinguish. “Everything. So if you can’t believe in anything, believe in me. Don’t look away. Watch me.”

His hand on your wrist seared into your skin, the proximity to his body too intense, too much. You wrenched your hand back, rubbing your wrist, and Anaxa let you go.

“I can’t believe someone like you is a Chrysos Heir. Maybe they’ve finally lost their minds,” you muttered. “Either way, you don’t need to tell me to watch you. I couldn’t look away, even if I wanted to.”

You could never let your past go. It was a simple truth you were forced to acknowledge. Anger and pain rotted in your soul, carving out a home in the same way termites burrowed into healthy wood, destroying it from the inside out. It was easier to cling to apathy, to watch people from afar rather than risk destruction from attachment. 

You still dreamed of your family, though their faces were starting to fade from your memory. Even your father’s tomes were beginning to disintegrate, no matter how careful you were when handling them. The gods could save nothing, not your family, not your people, not this world, so how could you believe in them?

You were set on being alone, on burying yourself alive in your library. Not much moved you.

That was why it was frightening that Anaxa stirred your heart in ways you dared not dwell on for too long, like the ripples from a stone thrown into a placid pond, spreading farther and farther still.

It didn’t take more than a few years after that for Anaxa to achieve the lofty goals he had presented to you, though you suspected he laid the groundwork for his plans much earlier than he admitted and was simply watching them come to fruition. Despite the opposition, he established his own burgeoning school, and students flocked from afar to study concepts of the soul. He was one of the youngest people to become a professor and a sage, an impressive achievement. 

You became the head of the library, and when you weren’t buried among mountains of books and tomes retrieved from the farthest corner of Amphoreus, you still made time to watch Anaxa. You visited his classrooms, shepherded his confused students to the correct materials he required, and chased him down when he returned rare books far past the due date. 

Research was always his first priority. You never doubted that he would choose his alchemical experiments over you. It never bothered you, because if you had to choose between the library and Anaxa, you would have sacrificed him in a heartbeat. The way he threw himself into his research with a vicious mania wasn’t new or unexpected.

But the way his clothes hung so much more loosely on him, the sharp bones jutting beneath his waxy skin like outcroppings of rocks in a murky sea, his drawn, pale face: that was all new. His body couldn’t keep up with the strain of what he was doing. 

He had told you as much, that he would sacrifice anything for his goals, but it disconcerted you to watch it happen in person. Nothing was sacred, not even his body or his soul.

You knew Anaxa’s schedule as well as your own. When his final class of the day ended, you made your way to his office, where the occasional student milled about in the hallway, chatting with their friends or grumbling about course assignments. It was a familiar sight from your own student days.

“Professor,” you greeted, shutting the door behind you when you entered his office.

“Librarian,” he said. Anaxa flipped through his notes, frowning. He was leaning against his desk, as if the mere act of sitting properly on his chair pained him. “What is it?”

“You’ve been using your body as materials for your alchemy experiments,” you said. Blunt and straight to the point, just as he enjoyed.

“Is that all you came here to say?”

“If you push yourself too much, you’ll die. You’re still only human.”

“I know my limits. There can’t be advancements made without sacrifices.”

“What have you used so far? Your blood? Your organs? Are you going to rip pieces of your soul apart next?”

You’re close to him now, close enough to pin him against the desk, your arms placed on either side of him like bars. Though it didn’t seem as if Anaxa had any intention to; he only watched you with that same curious stare he leveled everyone. It was always a chess game with him, the way he sizes up your next movement, readying his pieces in hand.

“I don’t want a premature end to your story,” you said, “I want to see what you’ll do next. How far you go. You still haven’t given me an impressive performance yet.”

“Oh, librarian,” Anaxa said. “It seems as if you’ve grown soft. Why do you sound so worried? Would you like to check for yourself how I’m doing?”

Coyly, he grasped one of your hands, bringing them to rest against his chest, right above his heart. Your fingers curled over the fabric separating you from him. You laid your hand flat enough against him, and felt the slow, steady pace of his heart, like a story marching toward an inevitable end.

Anaxa barely gave you enough time to settle into the soothing rhythm before he brought your hand to the center of his chest. Instead of solid flesh, there was nothing there but empty space, barely covered by his flimsy robes; you bit back a sharp gasp, driving your teeth hard into your lip.

“Well?” he said. The word fell like a taunt. 

This was an invitation, a provocation, really. Anaxa let you go as you pulled back the buttons of his shirt, almost ripping it in your haste. You were met with a milky galaxy, swirls of blue-green and bright stars, the infinite cosmos unfurling in his chest. His skin broke into a jagged scar shaped like a star, all sharp angles made from soft flesh.

“That was quite bold of you,” Anaxa mused. “We’re still in public, you know.”

“No one is going to come in,” you snapped. “And I locked the door.”

“Were you planning on jumping on me?”

“Were you planning on letting me?” You could do nothing but breathe in tandem to the rise and fall of his chest, to the ripple of the galaxy held within him. This foolish, infuriating man. “How did this happen?”

“Consequences from an experiment,” Anaxa said cryptically. You weren’t going to get any more out of him, if the stubborn silence he fell into was any indication. 

Instead, you brought one hand to the cracks, feeling the edges of skin. Warm, and smooth. It still felt like his human body, and you let one finger drag along his flesh, tracing the outline of the cracks.

You glanced at him, and met an eye that was watching you with palatable intensity, like you were another equation he was trying to solve. There was nothing else for you to do except gently dip your fingers into the hollow of his chest. It was a warm, smooth liquid consistency, like ocean waters from a sun-warmed beach, inviting you to draw your hand further in. 

You noted the way Anaxa tried to hold back a shudder at the first contact. This was affecting him more than he wanted to let on, and you wanted to see his insufferable composure break. He was always so poised, so above everything. You dipped your hand further in, up to your wrist, to your elbow, further than you should have been able to touch. 

Perhaps you could fit your entire body in here. It was a strange thought, unbidden, the idea of letting yourself be swallowed up by him forever, nestled close to his heart, so every time it beat he would be reminded of your presence. 

“Librarian,” Anaxa said in a strained voice. His eye was unfocused now, his breathing shallow. 

“If you’re going to give pieces of yourself away,” you said, swirling your fingers in absent loops in the space inside him. Every part of you felt weightless, like you weren’t really there. “Why not give something to me?”

“And what would you do with it?”

“What do you think?” 

Anaxa’s head dipped slightly. “Something untoward.”

“I think you would like it, though. Is your heart still here?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Can I touch it?”

“Only if I let you.”

“Will you?”

You were met with silence, so you spread your arm through the hollow space, bracing your other hand on the desk behind Anaxa. Everything was disorientingly expansive, like the hole in his chest has pushed the pieces of his body apart, a trick room where the space inside was larger than the space outside. You angled your hand sideways experimentally, towards where his heart should be, and brushed the edge of his rib. Clean, hard bone that you held tenderly, gliding your fingers along the length of it. 

It was this provocation that proved too much for Anaxa. His head fell on your shoulder, and his hands moved to grip your waist, as if he would fall apart without you to anchor. His hands were still slender and elegant, the sort of beautiful hands built for creation.

This sight, the great Anaxa brought so low at your touch, was reserved just for you. As was his body, the tender caverns of it. You took your time to ghost along his bones, relishing in every shudder that wracked his body, and then you found it. A wet muscle, pulsing ever so gently, the center of Anaxa’s body.

You caressed his heart, squeezing it slightly, feeling it contract in your hands. Anaxa’s hands tightened around your waist, his nails digging into clothed flesh. Still, you did nothing more but hold it gently, feeling it quicken alongside Anaxa’s shallow breathing. Soft, warm, inviting. You stroked a thumb along the tender muscle.

“If you want it, you’ll need to give something else to me,” Anaxa said, his voice a low, hot murmur in your ear. “As is the manner of equivalent exchange.”

Before you could respond, a knock resounded on the door. “Professor? I had some questions about the material covered in the lecture today.”

At the sound, you jerked your hand back, your arm emerging pristine and untouched. It felt heavy, gravity weighing you down, unlike the inviting, weightless expanse within Anaxa. In a few seconds, you straightened your clothing as Anaxa buttoned his shirt back and smoothed his robes, leaning heavily against the desk, hand curled around his mouth. You were across the room and pushing open the door, revealing a surprised student, curled fist raised mid-knock.

You schooled your face into a neutral expression, and threw a quick shout over your shoulder. “You aren’t excluded from the rules of the library just because you’re a sage now, professor! Turn your books in on time.”

And then you hurried on, keeping your eyes straight ahead, flexing and unflexing your hand as you walked. The two of you would never speak of that moment again, though you noticed Anaxa looking unbearably smug in the weeks that followed, and you found a new habit of touching his shoulder when you talked.

In the following years that passed, more Chrysos Heirs came to study at the Grove, working under Anaxa’s strict tutelage and wandering the rows of your library. Your favorite was Castorice, who kept a respectful distance back and asked you numerous questions about the books in your archives. Your least favorite was Phainon, who had a habit of being a little more clumsy with the books than you liked.

“Do you enjoy teaching them?” you asked, hand cupped in your cheek. Anaxa retained the habit of perching on your desk, still preferring to claim your space as his rather than find one of his own.

In turn, however, you had grown bolder with his body. If he wasn’t going to take care of it, you might as well put it to use. His arm lay stretched across your desk, and you scribbled notes on the creamy, smooth skin of his inner arm: alchemical equations he taught you, or reminders of what books he had to return, or doodles of dromases. 

“If they’re going to embark on the Flame-Chase Journey, it’s prudent for them to find their own path, instead of blindly believing what they’re told,” he remarked. You put down your pen, and Anaxa glanced at the fresh ink still shining on his skin. “Librarian, what is this?”

“A dromas,” you said.

He examined the inked doodle, eye borrowed. “The proportions of its facial features are off and too close together.”

“How picky, professor. I’ll draw a better one next time.”

It was easy, so easy being with Anaxa that it frightened you. New students of Anaxa’s assumed the two of you were “together,” and it wasn’t right, but it wasn’t wrong, either. The two of you were a pair, and it felt wrong to be away from him, like you were being denied part of who you were.

Did you love him? Did you need him? Your desire took on confusing forms, eluding categorization and convention. Maybe you were simply greedy: like the day he let you touch the galaxy in his chest, you wanted more of Anaxa, to shelter within him forever.

How to understand this? Was there even a way to understand it, or were you helpless to desire’s whims? It was an unsolvable equation. 

The years could have passed so sweetly and comfortably, until you heard news of Titankin flooding Okhema and strange new warriors appearing. As Hyacine made to venture into the holy city to treat the wounded, Anaxa approached you one evening while you were in your bedroom, flinging it open without a knock, another habit he retained.

“Go with Hyacine to Okhema,” Anaxa said.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re curious about the new strangers in the city, and what happened with Strife, aren’t you? Go with her and learn.”

“Are you kicking me out of the Grove, professor?” you asked.

“I’m telling you to seek new knowledge, and see the center of a new, great story. Or have you grown complacent here, tending to your dusty scrolls?”

“Aren’t you going to miss me?”

Anaxa leaned against the door of your bedroom. “Why should I?”

“You want to know about those strangers and the status of Okhema,” you guessed. “Don’t you?”

“If that’s how you chose to see my words, I don’t see any need to refute you.”

“You’re as frustrating as ever, professor,” you said. You stood, making your way over to him. Idly, you started playing with the hair that fell over his shoulders, silky strands slipping through your fingers. “Why don’t you say you’re also worried about me? Shuffling me, a poor librarian off to the holy city, when there’s so much turbulence in Amphoreus right now… It doesn’t feel coincidental.”

Anaxa dipped his head, chin lowered to his chest. “Will you admit that that sort of concern makes you happy, then?”

“Do you have any evidence to support that?”

“Do you?” he challenged.

“Well, since my expertise doesn’t lie in debating, so I’ll refrain from answering.” You withdrew your hand, reached down, and pulled Anaxa’s hand up by the wrist, placing it over your heart. His fingers rested lightly against your chest, as if he could cage your heartbeat. “I’ll see you in a few weeks, then. Goodbye for now, professor.”

“Goodbye, librarian.”

The road to Okhema was relatively pleasant. Hyacine was cheerful and made for good company, perceptive enough to know when you tired of talking. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little disoriented. You weren’t attached at the hip to Anaxa, as your duties took up most of your time, and he had his spells where he forgot the rest of the world existed when he was buried in research. But you weren’t used to being far enough away where if you called his name, he wouldn’t be able to hear.

Okhema was still vibrant and bustling when you and your retinue of exhausted scholars approached, shining with a ferocity that denied any rumors of defeat and downfall. Kephale rose grandly above the city in the distance, arms outstretched as if ready to take on your burdens. 

“I need to go look at some of the soldiers now,” Hyacine said. “Why don’t you go greet Lady Aglaea first? I’ll follow you as soon as you can!”

It was as solid a plan as any. You trudged through the city, making your way to where Aglaea waited. As you walked through sunlight and vapor from the local baths, through laughter and the splash of carefree citizens: it seemed humanity would prevail no matter what.

When you found Aglaea, she was waiting, patient as ever, an enigmatic smile on her lips and hands folded in front of her, as pristine and flawless as a god carved from marble.

“Hello, librarian.”

“Hello, Lady Aglaea. I’m here from the Grove of Epiphany along with a few of my companions. Hyacine will likely come greet you soon,” you said. There was no need to go through any formalities with her; her golden threads had likely picked up on the vibration of your conversation with Hyacine. It cut down on any need for pleasantries and explanations.

“And I’m sure you’ll be reporting everything we say back to that man?” Her smile was still cool, unruffled; you admired her composure. You had no quarrel with Aglaea, and you could not grudge her need for control and protection of all her citizens. Still, it was a daunting task to stand in front of someone like her.

“Reporting is a strong word,” you said. “I would prefer something more like observation. I’m not here to make trouble, only to note what I see.”

“They say you’re a recluse, a librarian who’s only fond of stories and barely has the time to give to anyone outside of a certain professor,” Aglaea said. “You would have made a good candidate for the Coreflame of Time.”

“Ah, but I’m too selfish to sacrifice myself for humanity,” you said, filling in the gaps of her words. “I know my flaws.”

“Indeed. You’re too caught up in your own stories, narrating everything you see as if it has nothing to do with you.”

“And is that so wrong? It’s simply the most interesting thing for me to do,” you said. 

“You and that man are alike in that way,” Aglaea mused. “Caught up in your respective research and acts. You’re a narrator and a performer on the same stage together, though I wonder. It seems as if that man is eager to perform great feats for the distant narrator to watch, so they won’t turn their attention away from him.”

You settled your gaze somewhere over her shoulder, your hands grasped tightly in the folds of your clothing. “Lady Aglaea, I apologize for my bluntness, but I daresay you’re wrong. We both know Anaxa is the sort of man who would only stir to action for the sake of his own goals. Anything else that happens is incidental to what he achieves.”

“Do we both know that?”

“You’ve seen how he acts.”

“Regardless, I only wanted to extend a word of caution to you, librarian. You’ve long refused the invitation to step on the stage, and so your chance to take the spotlight has passed. Are you truly prepared to witness the story playing out in front of you without being able to raise a hand to stop a single event from transpiring?”

“Is this advice from you personally, Lady Aglaea, or is it advice from a demigod?”

She smiled. “What do you think? I’m sure you’ll come to a conclusion all on your own. I only find it a shame we couldn’t work together more.”

That was the end of your conversation with her. But throughout your stay in Okhema, Aglaea’s words rang in your head, like a burr stuck to the folds of your thoughts, even as you found yourself preoccupied by greater worries. The Grove being overtaken by the black tide. Political unrest in Okhema. And Anaxa, who, from all accounts, had seemingly escaped the fate that befell your coworkers and peers.

Once more, your home was lost, but this time, at least one person had survived. Yet, to your growing ire and confusion, Anaxa did not approach you once when he came to the city. You only received reports from Hyacine in the temporary room you took refuge in, provided by Aglaea. 

You thought nothing of it at first, certain he would seek you out on his own time. It wasn’t uncommon for Anaxa to rush headlong into whatever project or scheme caught his attention. He would make his way back to you eventually.

As the hours passed, malaise and discontent settled on you like a heavy veil. You were not a Chrysos Heir, so you were not privy to the inner politics of their number. You were nothing more than a civilian. But this was the first time you had to hear about Anaxa’s movements from other people instead of relaying them to others. 

His silence was a purposeful message: Anaxa was not going to involve you in whatever he had planned. You were to sit and wait and watch on the sidelines, as you always had.

You could guess at his motivations: he was playing risky games, getting involved with the Council of Elders. He had done something outrageous, brushed right up against the divine, and had to undertake his trials alone. You were not useful to him in these games, and it would be dangerous for him to openly associate with you and alert people of your presence in his life.

People were lost so easily, but stories lived forever. You had believed this all your life, and yet, as you melted in your chaise, stacks of half-finished books piling around you, all your beloved stories felt stale and tasteless. 

Someone flung open your door, and you jerked upright as Anaxa strode into the room with the same arrogance as if this was your home back in the Grove. You barely had time to smooth your rumpled clothing and pull your legs to the side before Anaxa was settling at the end of your seat, legs folded.

“Where have you been, you ass?” you snapped, kicking him with your foot.

He didn’t move, taking your kick with stoicism. “I’ve been researching,” he said.

“Well? Are you going to tell me what you’ve been working on?”

“These theories are still being worked on.”

“That hasn’t stopped you from telling me before. Honestly, what have you been doing? The Chrysos Heirs are all over the place, and there’s been talk that you’ve joined the Council of Elders. Not to mention what happened with the Grove. How did you get out? What happened? Why–” You choked on your words, all your nameless frustration and fear surging out. “Why couldn’t I be there with you?”

Anaxa’s eye was focused on you, but his gaze was distant and foggy. His lips moved, as if he was speaking to himself, and you could only wait in impatient silence before he said, “I’m dead, librarian.”

With a furious burst of energy, you lunged at Anaxa, pinning him down to the chaise. His green hair fanned across the cushions, as your hands shook.

“Anaxa, I don’t have time for your games. For once in your life, just tell me the truth.”

“I haven’t lied to you.”

“You’re still here,” you pressed. “If you were truly dead, you wouldn’t be moving like this.”

“That’s simply because I bound my soul to a Titan. I don’t have that much time left.”

“Titan…? You can’t mean… You bound yourself to a god? Are you mad?”

“Only in the eyes of fools,” he said. 

“Anaxa. How long do you have left?”

He called your name, said in such a soft tone, as if you were still teenagers in the Grove of Epiphany, still young and foolish with your entire lives in front of you. “Only until the end of today. You know the black tide takes all, and you know the principles of equivalent exchange. A life for a life. It’s fitting.”

“But it wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whispered. “You were going to show me a grand story. Things I haven’t seen before. A brilliant conclusion.”

“I will.” Anaxa brought his hand to the back of your head, pulling you down to rest on his chest. You closed your eyes, burying your face in the fabric of his clothing. You sought desperately for his heartbeat, but it wasn’t there. “But all performers must leave the stage eventually.”

“I don’t want you to,” you said. It was a childish, petulant protest, the likes of which you hadn’t made in years, not after your family died. “You’re supposed to live forever, Anaxa.”

“I will. I will live forever in your stories, librarian. You should understand this.”

“You infuriating man.”

“You meddlesome librarian.”

“Are you telling me goodbye? Is this what this is?”

“It doesn’t have to be something permanent,” he said cryptically.

“And I’m sure you won’t explain what that means, either, will you?”

“All will be revealed in due time. Have patience, librarian. That’s one of your strong suits.”

“Anaxa!” Your shout came out to a strangled whisper as you fisted your hands in his robes as if in some vain attempt, you could bind him to this earth forever, as if he wasn’t already lost to you. “You’re a wretched, blasphemous fool. But you’ve forgotten something.”

“And what have I forgotten? Enlighten me, dear librarian.”

“You let me touch your heart,” you murmured into the hollow of his chest. “Remember? That day in the classroom?”

“Well, it’s difficult to forget the liberties you took with my body. What about it?”

“You asked me what I would give in exchange for your heart. I never answered you, and as per the laws of equivalent exchange, as you so like to espouse, I’d like to give you something now,” you persisted. 

“Oh? And what are you planning on offering?”

“My heart,” you persisted. “If you give me a part of you, then I’ll give you a part of me.”

“Do you plan on ripping your heart out for me?”

“If you asked, then it’s yours, to do with as you please.”

Anaxa did not speak. He only stroked the back of your head, as if he was tracing alchemical equations. “What an audacious claim.”

“You don’t dislike it, though.”

“I told you I don’t lie, librarian.”

“Then you need to understand this,” you confessed, a supplicant before a god, the words tumbling out in a way they never have before. Your heartache, laid raw and bare, the weave of your soul exposed. “I’ve kept myself distance from everything. The Grove. The other scholars. Even Amphoreus itself. But you, Anaxa. You make me act so foolishly, want irrational and unattainable things. I can’t keep myself apart from you.”

“Well, well,” Anaxa said. “The reclusive librarian has finally shown me a bit of what lies in their heart.”

You hit him lightly with your fist, the action carrying no anger or weight to it. “Come on. Is that all you have to say to me?”

“I don’t need to say anything. All you need to do is to keep watching me, like we once promised,” he said. “Come, librarian. If you’ve laid claim to my heart, you should understand it by now. What I do, I do while thinking of you and of the best way to keep you entertained.”

You wrapped your arms around Anaxa. He was still touching you ever so gently, stroking your back in a way that belied the harshness of his words. Neither of you spoke. You closed your eyes, imagining what it would be like to fall asleep in his arms. 

“I’ll see you again,” you mumbled. “If not in this life, then in the next. Don’t think you can get away from me so easily.”

You thought you could feel him smile. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

This was the last time you ever saw him. When you did drift off to sleep, you awoke on your chaise, a blanket pulled up to your shoulders, with nothing left of Anaxa but the cooling spot he once occupied.

—

After his death, you dream of him. His body cracking, flaking away to reveal a cosmos birthed beneath his skin. His smile and unfocused eyes, looking at some grand scheme beyond you. The hard, red crystal of heart, the white lines of his ribs.

One day, you will return to your library in the Grove, to your archives and books and your catalogues. But for now, you reside in the holy city, recording what you see, marking history in your own words. The narrator to a play you could not change, as Aglaea called you, in love with a performer who left the stage of his own accord.

Anaxa does not lie, so you know his theories to be true, even if others decry them as blasphemy. You will find him again, in the next life, in the next world. You will find a way to keep his memory alive, weave it into the fabric of the universe itself, so not even the gods could rip him from you even if Amphoreus as you knew it fell to pieces. 

You imagine what it would be like, in the next world. You would pull him close, your dear professor, and tell him every story that happened in his absence. This time, you would not let him go.

[cuteandhughesy]

Secrets I Have Held In My Heart | Jonathan Kovacevic

summary: you and johnathan are left to deal with the aftermath of your secret relationship as tabloids get a whiff of the forbidden romance, all while johnathan is dealing with a nagging injury.

[word count] 3.5k

warnings: NSFW! coach!reader | mentions of injury and surgery | swearing | kissing | mature themes and dialogue | smut | undisclosed p in v intercourse | read at your own discretion

a/n: after some amazing ideas and suggestions from @hockeyjunkieblog I knew I had to re-visit this story. everyone go give her some love because she is truly the mastermind behind this two part kovy story ❤️❤️ as well, thank you so much for 1500!

read part one here !

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

the anti climactic sound of moderate beeping from various hospital machines invade your mind, all while your leg bounces and twitches with nervous anticipation.

hospitals always have you feeling this way though—because besides babies being born and the ding of a cancer free bell, what kind of positive noises come from a hospital? exactly.

it doesn't help that johnathan lounges on his hospital bed, seemingly cool as a cucumber as he waits for his surgeon, flipping through tv channels like it's just another day of being lazy on your apartment couch.

the cherry on top is the arm behind his messy head of hair—the good kind of messy that he gets anytime he's between your legs and you've been pulling and tugging on his locks like a starved woman. if it wasn't for the anxiety coursing through your veins, the hospital gown wrapped around his body would be sexy. especially in the way it's gotten so tight around his bicep that it's practically ripping stitches.

but it's not sexy, because your boyfriend is about to have a huge surgery, one that will put him out well into the beginning of next season—and you're positive that you're more frightened about it then he is.

like johnathan can sense your weary, his warm eyes flicker away from the tv in the corner of the stark white hospital room, and find your hunched over figure.

"take your thumb out of your mouth baby. you're gunna bite your skin raw."

like a scolded child, you quickly pull your thumb out from between your teeth and slide your hand between your thighs—you hadn't even noticed the nervous habit you'd been caught in until johnathan pointed it. you’d been too focused on his vitals and the sound of rolling beds in the hallway to worry about your damn cuticle.

but of course, your boyfriend noticed.

your straighten your posture and with wide eyes, you just stare back at johnathan, unsure what else to say. because since that injury sustained during the playoffs, your boyfriend has been hearing the same questions and pity answers from everyone around him.

are you worried?

everything will be alright, kovy.

will you be back before the season?

keep your head up.

what's recovery going to look like?

and you're really trying your best to just chill the fuck out, and just be there for him—even though all you want to do is coddle him and kiss his knee like that will magically heal him.

you blink, all doe eyed and sweet, and johnathan can't help the way his lips slowly slide upwards in the beginning stages of a smirk.

"how are you so calm right now?" you blurt out before you can properly think the brazen response, a half amused expression on your face. the other half? complete disbelief.

he shrugs a shoulder while sliding the small tv remote back onto the top of the side table, leaving the marathon of how I met your mother to play quietly through out the room.

johnathan pats the sliver of space his gigantic body doesn't take up, "come here."

you shoot your boyfriend a tentative look, which only makes his smirk grow. regardless, johnathan doesn't need to ask again, because you're already getting to your feet and shuffling towards the crisp hospital bed.

as your thighs hit the edge of the cheap, foam mattress, you hesitate, arms crossed over your gray sweatshirt—his sweatshirt—your gaze naturally falling to his surgery prepped knee, propped up on a pillow and wrapped in some sort of bandage that looks way too tight.

you really have to fight the urge to check it.

but johnathan is grabbing your elbow before you get the chance, unwinding your crossed arms before pulling you down to the bed, practically tucking you into his lap. and because he's a pain in your ass, he winces, all dramatic and like he's in pain.

"oh god," you jump, twisting yourself out of his hold in an attempt to get off the bed. "your knee!"

"relax," johnathan snickers, easily pulling you back down. "i'm just messing with you."

you grumble like you're annoyed even though your body relaxes from his soothing words. "that's not funny johnathan," you smack his chest with a hearty thump—he barley feels it. "this is serious stuff."

"johnathan?" he repeats, "what happened to johnny?"

"you're only johnny when you're not pissing me off."

he laughs but doesn't say anything yet, opting to press a lingering kiss to the side of your head before further pestering you. "am I pissing you off because i'm trying to make you laugh? or is it because you're nervous?"

your head naturally finds the dip between johnathan's neck and broad shoulder, and even if you're not in a state of relaxation, the feeling of his hard body under your cheek has you sighing out all low and content.

your lips part, unsure what you want to say. the last thing you want to do is make johnathan nervous when he's clearly not. as well, you don't want him to feel like you're trying to take attention away from his injury. not that you are, and not that johnathan would ever think that—but still.

subconsciously, you begin tracing little patterns on his chest over the material of the blue hospital gown, "I just want everything to go smoothly for you."

your tone is so cautious and heavy that it makes johnathan frown. "it will be okay, baby," he tells you warmly, lips brushing against your makeup free forehead as he speaks.

the softness of it all has a pleasant shiver rolling over your skin. "I know, i'm just...worried about you."

"don't be." he shrugs and squeezes around your ribs.

you laugh incredulously, tilting your head back just enough so you can look up at him. your neck pulls in protest, but it's all worth it when you see that your boyfriend is already looking down at you with a fond grin on his face.

"kind of hard not to when i'm in love with you." you huff lightly.

"awh, my pretty girl." johnathan's compliment trails off in a way that has your belly swooping. he closed the small distance between you and steals a familiar kiss.

"at least say it back," you chime once you separate, "you know, just in case you die in surgery."

"it's a knee surgery, babe."

you squint, "anything can happen johnny."

your nickname for him has johnathan smiling in a boyish way. "I love you," he mutters, thick fingers absentmindedly raking through your hair. "and when we get home you can coddle me and kiss me and make me soup like I know you are dying to do."

at first, you jaw goes slack with disbelief—because, yeah, that's quite literally all you've been yearning to do. after a beat, you drop your head back to his collarbone, "ugh, you know me so well it's sickening."

a firm, quick rap on the hospital door as you sitting up. a young nurse, no older than 25 with curly hair tightly pulled back, and beautiful skin, pokes her head in after johnathan permits her entrance, her dark eyes wide and eager.

"mr. kovacevic? the surgeon is making his rounds and will be with your shortly to go over the final details of your procedure."

your boyfriend nods and sends the young girl a polite smile, "perfect, thank you."

the nurse closes the door once more, the choatic sounds of the hospital hallway dulling as the entrance closes. you sigh again, eyes flickering back towards your boyfriend.

you reach out and push your hand through his thick, dark hair, running your nails over his scalp. you bite into your bottom lip cautiously.

johnathan gives you a look, one that tells you to chill out and stop being such a worry wart. you can only shrug sheepishly.

"you ready?" he prompts, taking ahold of your hand.

"are you?"

"fuck yeah I am—ready to get back to normal."

you shake your head slowly, "you're ridiculous."

"you're pretty."

"that's not getting you out of this."

the left side of his mouth quirks up, "I love you."

"I love you." you drawl dramatically. "I guess."

johnathan scoffs, "you better give me a kiss after that—I might die in there you know."

he's clearly teasing, but your eyes widen all the same. "johnathan!"

—

your hands pause on the sudsy dishes when the sound of johnathan's sock covered feet, followed by the clicking of crutches, sluggishly sound down the hall.

he's not long back from his overnight stay at the hospital—which, thankfully the surgery went as good as the doctors hoped, and if everything else goes smoothly, johnathan will be back at the rink next season—and he's supposed to not be walking around. not with a wrapped up knee. and certainly not without your assistance.

especially if it’s for something stupid like the last then—when he claimed he needed more berries in his yogurt.

"baby," you start firmly, wiping your wet hands on the rubber duck dish towel johnathan insisted he needed on your last trip to TJ MAXX. "you're not supposed to get out of bed."

you spin just as he emerges from your hallway, hazelnut following behind him like the attentive cat she is—sliding between his legs and crutches in a way that makes you nervous.

both you and johnathan decided that while he's on bed rest, that him staying at your place would be the most comfortable option. it was closer to his doctors office, and if he's in your space, you're able to hover him and baby him. it's really a win win.

you're expecting a half smirk and some childish excuse about being bored when you face your boyfriend, but instead johnathan is sporting a set of panic riddled eyes and a ghostly pale face. his cellphone, which has been his saving grace during his bed rest, clutched tightly in his big hand.

instantly, your stomach drops. "what's wrong?" you take two cautious but quick steps towards him, beginning to close the distance between you. "are you in pain?" you prompt, voice wavering while your eyes subconsciously dart down to his leg—bandage concealed under his oversized sweatpants.

"no," johnathan swallows, voice an octave lower than usual. it only makes your worry grow tenfold. "it's, uh—" he trails off with another rough gulp. a loaded beat passes, nothing but hazelnuts claws clicking on the floor as she switches between your and johnathan's legs, and then he juts the phone in your direction.

confused, you take his cellphone. you let your eyes linger on his sickly expression for a second before they dart down towards the phone. you read the tweet lighting up the screen—and just when you thought your stomach couldn’t churn anymore, it practically jumps to your throat, bile threatening to escape.

because there, on twitter with more activity than you can count, is a collection of pictures, all containing you and johnathan. together.

they're from a few days ago, outside the hospital after surgery. johnathan, in a wheelchair with his knee all tucked and swollen under his wrap, accompanied by you.

you who's pushing his hair pack and holding your tote bag full of johnathan's essentials.

and johnathan who's staring up at you, lips puckered asking for a kiss. and because god has decided that he wants you to suffer, there's also a photo of you giving him said kiss.

you're going to be sick.

fan spotted devils kovacevic leaving the hospital after planned surgery looking very close to devils assistant coach, y/l/n.

there's been rumours. of course there's been rumours. you're a young, female coach in the national hockey league. surrounded by young, rich men. if reports and fans weren't questioning you about your team, they were questioning you about a look you gave to hischier, or why you sat so close to hughes during team breakfast.

and that's not to say your relationship with johnathan is a complete secret. you both disclosed your intimacy to the head of the devils management mere weeks after you and johnathan reconciled from your weird half breakup. you'd fully expected to be fired, but surprisingly you weren't.

obviously, you both promised to keep it strictly professional—with your plans to eventually move down to the farm team to coach once all the pieces fell into place. and management was fine with it, as long is it remained under wraps.

they didn't want the drama. they wanted to protect the integrity of the organization.

but as you stare at these no less than incriminating photos, you know you've failed them.

rumours are easy.

rumours can be denied, and most of the time, are too ridiculous to be believable.

but pictures? pictures were you're kissing and touching and just being a couple? that's just straight up proof.

you're not sure how long you stand there, finger tips wrinkled from the dish water and bare toes on display while you stare at the comments and headlines coming in—calls and texts from johnathan's teammates flashing on his screen as the pictures spread across platforms.

all you know is that your mouth is so dry that your tongue feels stuck in place.

johnathan slowly pry's the phone from your fingers, and that's when you see that your hands have started to tremble. "it's okay," he tells you, pocketing the device without so much as a second glance at it.

tears well in your eyes, lips parting is disbelief and violation. you didn't even notice the eyes on you outside the hospital—why would you l when your boyfriend was freshly out of surgery and starting his recovery?

regardless, you should've been more careful. smarter.

"it's not okay," you croak helplessly.

johnathan slowly shuffles the final step towards you, mindful of his leg. he pulls you into his chest so tenderly that it hurts your heart, arms wrapping around your shoulders and just holding you there.

he kisses your head and keeps his lips there, unwilling to separate himself from your warmth. johnathan inhales your scent, basking in the way it immediately soothes his whirling thoughts.

you can't help but to cry pathetically into his chest, eyes clenched tightly while you fist the fabric of his hoodie. the rug you've been balancing on has been completely pulled from under your feet, leaving you a wobbly, uncertain mess.

the pictures flash behind your eyes, making you open them once again.

"we'll be okay," johnathan mumbles into your hair, palm sweeping up and down your spine. "we've got each other. everything will be alright."

—

the past week has been hell.

every time you eyes close, you're transported into a dark, never ending hole of despair.

you've always been good at turning a blind eye, and keeping your chin held high in regards to derogatory and misogynistic comments retaining your job position.

mostly stemming from the fact that these no good trolls had nothing on you but their own sick, disgusting assumptions. but now—with pictures and proof floating around online—these comments have gotten worse. and worst of all, they’ve become true.

you've been a walking zombie since that day twitter blew up with those collection of photos. handling nothing more than your daily routine of feeding johnathan and the cat—usually forgetting to eat yourself unless your boyfriend sits you down and forces food down your throat—making sure his medication is in order, cleaning, showering and then going to bed.

you just feel...weird about everything going on. you feel like a phoney. and you know you shouldn't, because your relationship with johnathan overshadows everything else in contention to this messy situation. but you can't help it.

it's not until you and johnathan are both called into a meeting with management that you start to feel normal again. because it's there where you're told that there's nothing you could've done. it's not your fault.

it's unfortunate, of course, but there's nothing else to it besides that.

it's the biggest weight lifted of your shoulders when those words come from managements mouth. because when its johnathan telling you those things, it's different. he has to say that because he loves you. but management honestly couldn't give a fuck less.

which means yeah, you're definitely not retuning to your position behind the devils bench next season, but that's to be expected.

johnathan had been a little upset about you loosing your job, but once again, like you've done many times, reassured him—and yourself—that the job isn't your dream. he is.

management puts out a difficult statement the following day regarding the photos and your resignation.

and truthfully, that's when you expected the heavy feeling to return to your chest—when the comments started again and you were confirmed to bed this painted puck bunny—but it never came.

oddly enough, you felt free.

when you had expressed your new found feelings to johnathan on your couch, hazelnut curled up on his strong thigh while you rested your head on his even stronger shoulder, he started to grin.

"well," he breathed, scratching your scalp absentmindedly, "now I have a whole new excuse to love you louder."

and yeah, you think, he does.

—

johnathan's weight is delicious on top of you. his body is pressed so tightly against yours that it's almost suffocating, but you invite the pressure in like no tomorrow.

the first thing johnathan did after his doctor gave him the all clear to ditch the crutches and begin using his legs normally, was that he took a slow jog around your dining room table—because he’s 5 years old, apparently.

but after that he threw you down to the mattress and climbed right on top of you.

because according to johnathan, and you quote, 'I am sick of only being able to do cowgirl—not that i'm complaining about having your tits in my face, but you know.'

to which you responded, 'you're lucky I gave you sex at all with that bum ass knee.'

which had johnathan cutting you off with a firm lick up your slick slit, sucking on your clit in the way that makes you cry out every time.

he's already made you cum three times, and if it wasn't for the way your legs were currently shaking around his thrusting hips, you'd wipe that smug smirk off his face. or kiss it off. whatever.

"fucking hell baby," he grunts, lips brushing your sweat smeared forehead, "can feel you fluttering again."

you whine, pathetically at that, back arching off the mattress until your chest is even tighter against his—nipples brushing against his dusting of chest hair oh so perfectly. "oh, gunna come again."

and isn't that the truth. it's only been a few minutes since your last climax, but you've been teetering on that blurry in between line ever since.

when johnathan slips his hand between your intertwined bodies to rub quick, firm circles on your puffy clit, you cry out in pleasure—orgasm washing over you and heating your already scorching body.

that fourth orgasm seems to be the final push johnathan needs. his abs tighten and clench in a way that, if you were looking, would surely having you drooling, before he cums. warm ropes of sticky seed filling your spent entrance.

"holy fuck." he breathes roughly, "you feel so good. you okay?" his warm eyes flicker away from where your bodies are connected and up to your blissed out gaze.

you’re panting as you quirk a brow, "are you? knee bugging you at all?"

johnathan pulls out slowly, but you still whine like a sad kitten at the feeling. he is momentarily distracted by the sight of your mixed fluids seeping out of your entrance, a boyish smile pulling at his lips as the cum pools on the bedding.

you hit his torso with your knee.

his eyes dart up to yours again, smile only growing. "don't worry 'bout me baby." he crawls back over you and captures your slick lips in a dizzy, slow kiss.

you sigh into it, shaky hands sliding to the back of his neck to hold him closer—painted toes curling happily when johnathan slowly slips his tongue along yours.

"don't worry about anything," he hums after a beat, forehead pressed to yours once again. "not my knee, not your job and not those stupid fucking comments and articles."

your chest falls with a long exhale, "I can't help it. and I feel fine—I do! but with everything still swirling and circulating, it's just hard not to get in my head about everything."

he hums thoughtfully, pushing some of your damp hair away from your cheek. "I know, but it will all blow over soon."

curious, your brows tug inwards. "does it bother you?"

a beat passes before johnathan shrugs a lazy shoulder. "it bothers me only because it bothers you. but what they're saying—we know it's all bullshit. so they can say what they want." he trails off with a playful squint. "like, i'm planning to put a ring on that finger and pump you full of babies—"

"johnny-"

"—im serious. I don't care about anything but you. so let them talk because it really doesn't matter."

eventually, you nod, leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss against johnathan's soft lips. "okay. you've got me?"

he kisses you back, longer and firmer than the previous one. "i've got you."

[alexanderlightweight]

Writing wednesday's are back babyyyyyy!!!

Honestly it's just a great relief to see you writing again 🥰.

If this verse still sparks something in you, could we have some more unicorn!Alec? NSFW/SFW is writer's choice. I ain't bothered either way.

they are back!!!!!! <3

okay so I love this verse and always will (I mean this because I’ve loved both unicorns and phoenix since I was a child) the mood does have to be right but that's more because the world building takes effort (I know I say that a lot but for about maybe a dozen or so verse the worldbuild is super complicated. a lot of others are canon adjacent or sideways so it's easier to build off). and so does developing and deciding where to go with the relationship. I don't want it always the same but also I don't want to write slowburn. but also why do I always complicate things for myself by trying to make each verse a little different to show a similar but slightly different flavor of Malec? I love my tropes and my niches but I also like exploring the various possibilities and it murders my brain. I want to be clear I do this to myself. every damn time.

and also that fucking gif sparked something in me. I was like, well shit the verse needs to come back with a bang like Kuzco... though maybe with Magnus' elegance for malec's own sanity. (and yay because despite my research binges into other verses details, I had the spoons to actually map out how some of the stuff works in this verse).

i hope you enjoy

<3 lumine

flames of triump

Alec really doesn’t know why he has to wait here, for Magnus.

He could be anywhere else and yet he’s here.

Waiting in some obscure and well-warded fae valley for Magnus to finish his meeting.  His mate is currently dining with both the unseelie king and the seelie queen.  There’s a problem between the two factions that’s big enough it requires the presence of both a phoenix and his mate.

Even if Alec isn’t actually needed or wanted at the meeting itself. Which is a relief because Alec doesn’t think the meeting would have lasted nearly as long as it has if he’d attended.

Another distraction breaks him from his thoughts. Another faerie arrives, the eleventh to show up and try to join him since Magnus left. She starts by waiting a little while away as she calls out to him.  Her form is half-hidden in the trees as she tries to coax him with a basket of apples, her hand even daring to hold one out in offering.

Apples.

As if Alec is some common horse or mule.

He snorts angrily, tossing his head back and pawing at the ground, breaking it under his hooves in fury.  When he’s done, the fae is gone; her frightened scent vanishes with her and only a fallen basket with a trail of apples remains.

Alec approaches it with fierce, quick steps but only so that he can crush each individual fruit beneath his hoofs before making quick work of the basket with his horn.

The smell of the fruit is fresh and sweet,  tantalizing considering how long he’s been waiting here and food — fae or not — holds no power over Alec in this form. However that doesn’t mean he’s a simple beast or so easily coaxed.  If anything it infuriates him, stoking the murderous rage in his belly that never quite settles unless Magnus is there with him.

The others that approach him as the hours pass are like minded. 

Some offer him lumps of candied honey, fresh vegetation or rare fruits and some offer the choice bits of meat or organs for those who remember that a unicorn is not a beast of pasture.

Each is offered from a distance whether from respect or fear Alec isn’t sure.

Yet each gift is a trap.

They want to touch him.

Touching a unicorn is thought to give luck and strength and being blessed by one is a coveted boon. The hair of his mane and tail are worth as much as Magnus’ feathers and tears and just as rare and Alec knows exactly how much he’s worth and so does Magnus.

Everyone that passes the ward Magnus put up isn’t a danger, or in danger.  

Because Alec has enough self-control that he won’t kill someone out of irritation, no matter how much he wants to.

—-

Magnus’ feet hasten, his steps lengthening without thought as if his very legs are yearning to make up for his lack of wings in this form.

Alexander is waiting for him. 

Proud head tilted up towards the sun and the breeze playfully tugging his mane into a dance with the wind.  He’s ethereal and gorgeous, glowing like obsidian under the sky and pure power to look at. At the sight of him Alexander rears in greeting, hoofs striking air in silent applause and the silver tip of his horn gleaming gold as it catches the sun.

Magnus feels the weight of his mate’s gaze and sighs, letting himself finally calm down.  The gold and red feathers that twine with his dark hair flutter as the same wind playing with Alexander teases Magnus’ face, the scent of him carried in a kiss of air.

As beautiful as the sight of his Alexander is, the evidence of unwanted guests and gawkers is littered across the valley.  There’s ruined gems and food and even clothes scattered across the once pristine land, though thankfully for the fae, no blood.

A pity for Magnus, however. 

A single drop of blood sterilized by a phoenix tear and he could have used fyre flight to find and incinerate the interlopers rather than let them go free.

“If only we’d known the Trueblood line carried unicorn souls.” Arawn murmurs from where he’s deigned to act as Magnus’ escort.  The unseelkie king’s gaze is unsettling and greedy as he looks at Alexander. “He could have been ours, then.”

Magnus knows exactly what Arawn means, considering the young blonde woman who had been the scribe during the meeting.  She’d had pointed ears and fangs yet also dark, stark and nephil runes on her skin.

Fae folk mixing with nephilim isn’t unheard of and Magnus isn’t surprised that Arawn specifically keeps track of nephil bloodlines to see which one he wants his people to seduce.  However that doesn’t mean Magnus will allow another to covet his mate, even if there’s nothing lustful about Arawn’s covetous gaze.

“And yet, he’s mine.” 

Arawn’s unnaturally green eyes meet Magnus’ gold and Magnus lets a hint of power bleed into his voice when he speaks.

“Even if he had been yours in another life. Or another time, in the end he’d still be mine.”

Arawn tilts his head, the smile on his maw decidedly unfriendly but not yet dangerous.  There is respect in his gaze and amusement as well.

“I have many sons—” and Magnus bristles even though he knows Arawn wouldn’t actually dare offer them to him or Alexander. “And your mate has a sister, does he not?”

The verbal assurance that Arawn recognizes Magnus’ claim on Alexander calms him enough that he nods.  Isabelle Lightwood does carry the blood and she mingles with fae so it’s not truly far fetched.  He summons a card, not with Isabelle’s name but the name of her most recent paramour. That is the best he’ll give Arawn, the fae king will have to do his own work from here.

Arawn understands and smirks, shallowly nodding his head in the closest to a bow the unseelie will ever lower himself to.

“I’ll leave you to your mate,” Arawn pauses and the card disappears from betwixt his fingers, “and I’ll remember a favor owed.”

He stays quiet then and Magnus is glad of it.  

Alexander wouldn’t ever be receptive to Arawn’s plot.

Yet Magnus knows that if he were any less powerful than he is, Arawn would happily use one of his sons to try and steal Magnus’ mate

Magnus summons an apple, golden and glowing and perhaps to the rest of the world, it will look normal.  Golden apples exist in the shadowworld aplenty, both in myth and reality.

Alexander neighs angrily, hoof stamping down so hard he cracks a boulder but then he’s trotting over, mane and head shaking as he passes the unseelie king.  Fingers reach out, hovering over Alexander’s coat for a moment before it’s swiftly pulled back, the tips nearly bitten off from Alexander’s lunge.  

The white of Alexander’s eyes are wide and wild as he bugles, teeth clacking together with unfettered viciousness and he doesn’t need the canines of a predator to be dangerous.  His back legs kick out and Arawn retreat without a word.

Alexander could take off an arm at the elbow without even trying with his teeth, dull though they may seem.

Magnus tsks, clicking his tongue several times in a mocking noise that has Alexander’s attention back on him instantly. 

His sweet boy isn’t actually angry, but he’s going to act like he is as he lunges forward.  His muzzle knocks against Magnus’ shoulder with enough force to rock him, but not drop him and his deadly horn passes harmlessly past Magnus’ jaw.  Alexander’s forelock brushes against his cheek then Magnus steps back, offering the apple with a smirk.

There’s a moment where Magnus just knows that Alexander is considering whether or not goring Magnus’ hand will actually hurt him considering his instant regeneration.  Magnus can also see the moment where he decides — as always — that even the possibility of causing a whisper of pain to Magnus outweighs any vindictive pleasure gained.

Especially when they both know his boy will eat the apple either way.

With a knicker of defeat Alexander lowers his head, whuffling at Magnus palm and then the apple with a snort of disdain.

Alexander eats it despite the irritation he’s radiating.

Whiskers brush Magnus’ palm and Alexander’s eyes glitter with malice even as he chews and swallows every bite of the juicy fruit.  It doesn’t matter that Magnus is teasing him and his boy could just refuse. Alexander’s too territorial to even pretend not to take something Magnus offers, especially when it’s formed from Magnus’ magic rather than by nature’s touch. He's also too proud of their relationship and of Magnus himself to refuse anything Magnus offers him.

Alexander would consider it an insult to Magnus which in his lovely boy's mind, is somehow worse than an insult to Alexander himself.

The only reason he's dragging his hooves or fussing at all is simply the principle of the matter... and the fact that Magnus made it look like an apple.

-

AN:

Arawn is aromantic though he’s hyper-sexual. He’s genuinely just a collector of unique things/people/powers etc and also why he has so many kids though he really does love his kids and family, in a bit of an admittedly obsessive way. He never keeps a paramour and doesn’t have a position for one.. I know i have two fics where he’s alec’s tad  (father) but he is not interested in adopting or suddenly fond of alec in this fic. He just collects unique things and is regretting he didn’t seduce maryse lightwood to get unicorn fae babies or send someone else to seduce her to get unicorn fae subjects. He seriously won’t really think of Alec again other than in context to Magnus. His goal is trying to get one of sons to seduce izzy. Arawn fully believes at least one of his sons can figure out a longterm relationship with isabelle lightwood and give him the possibility of unicorn grandchildren. He’s normally even more extra and intense but he’s appropriately wary of magnus who is powerful and also a phoenix. This is him being tame.

Also Helen is implied/mentioned by appearance and while she isn’t one of Arawn’s kids, she is like... distantly related. In this, Helen’s seelie mother fled to the unseelie court using the blood ties her relative who is Arawn’s like... who knows removed cousin as a voucher because she knew the king liked unique beings (he’s arrogant enough he doesn’t need to use them if its objectionable. he just likes that they’re his subjects) so her kids would be safer under Arawn than under the seelie queen who would manipulate them far more).

Please remember this is my fanon verse building and even here Arawn is not a nice or good person, i write him favorably because there’s also a god named that and because i hate the seelie queen. Very much. Dislike. Dont like. Will rip apart 10/10 would write again.

Alec is instinctually very violent and so is Magnus. They sometimes in their own heads when annoyed/overly happy/excited/upset/mad/jealous/tired/just large emotions envision setting each other on fire or goring each other before going like ‘okay but that might actually hurt them and they’re not allowed to get hurt. ever. so i guess i’ll settle for making it very clear that i’m upset and i’m going to continue to be upset’. 

So they work really well together despite the fact that they’re brat tamer/brat.

Yes. magnus uses the noises people use to signal with horses to get their attention and soothe them. Because he likes riling alec up and he likes it when Alec brats back.

Also i’m going to be real. Alec should be grateful magnus didn’t make it look like a carrot. Because that would have made alec even more indignant and he would have considered it more insulting and magnus would have done it gleefully (kink dynamics. You dont need sex to have dynamics or scenes going on especially since i write magnus and alec pretty much in a 24/7 dom/sub dynamic. No it’s not explicitly talked out, this is primal instincts and fanfic and i’m already doing research binges for billiard innuendos and how to write mermaid sex. I’m not adding researching how to write a fantasy 24/7 kink contract when it’s all based on instinct. The thought makes me want to cry.

Also this isn’t humiliation because Alec’s not humiliated, he’s outraged but he’s also like territorial so like magnus isn’t forcing him to eat the apple. Despite how huffy he is, alec would snap at Magnus’ fingers if he tried to take the apple away. Just because he’s annoyed by the fact that Magnus likes to make horse jokes doesn’t mean a small part of him doesn’t see the humor. Alec is in fact annoyed by the fact that he finds it funny because he knows he only finds it funny because Magnus finds it funny.

it’s the principle of the matter.

Alec’s literally just angry on principle and that’s part of why magnus finds it so funny.

Alec wouldn’t normally be so sensitive about people giving him apples btw except Magnus keeps giving him magical apples and so it’s become a ‘them’ thing and so not only is it insulting but its encroaching because HOW DARE YOU. ONLY MY MATE IS ALLOWED TO GIVE ME APPLES. Because instead of thinking, ‘no one is allowed to give me apples’ alec’s brain makes allowances for Magnus on instinct alone.

...about the emotional aspect of the jokes, its characterized because saeth has jokes that i’m annoyed by (not ones that actually upset me, saeth is very careful to try and not make jokes that might upset me or repeat them if one is made by accident). And part of the reason i get so annoyed is because its something i find funny, but its always something i wouldn’t find funny if saeth didn’t find it so funny or present it in such an obnoxiously on point manner. and i can’t get actually mad because its not harmful and it doesn’t actually upset me but the fact that i see where the joke is and i get the joke is infuriating. 

Often times its sort of like the ‘i’m in this picture and i don’t like it’ kind of unwillingly amused feeling too.

Fuck i hope this isn’t too confusion. I have to be up in four hours so i’m giving up for the morning <3

[lura-valentine]

Hint

World of My Hero Academia / Boku no Hero Academia

Fanfiction with chapters

The chapters will be linked together as soon as they are published

With the exception of Rain and the mysterious man, all characters belong to Kōhei Horikoshi

DabiHawks x Rain

–> To Rain's Profil

Please note that English is not my first language. So forgive me for mistakes

Concept of this fanfiction

Since the final war with the League of Villains, Touya has been dying. The doctors gave him only a few weeks, if at all, a few months, but the stubborn son of fire surprised everyone when he was still alive after 16 years.

He was only a shadow of his former self, trapped by vital machines, but something was keeping him alive, as if there was something else he needed to know...

Overview

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 (W.I.P)

Rains Part

The weather had changed, and thick drops of water rained mercilessly onto the roofs of the city, the rhythmic drumming breaking the silence of the night. Rain landed heavily on one of the taller buildings, her wings trembling from effort and anger. She pulled the soaked hood over her head and staggered forward a few steps, then sank to her knees. Her fingers dug into the rough concrete and a hoarse sound escaped her throat - a mixture of frustration, pain, and the echo of old memories.

Keigo's face, his words, his determination to stand in her way... "If you want Fischer, you’ll have to get past me..." The scene played over and over in her head. His look, that mixture of sadness and strength, had hit her hard. She could never forget him, and she knew that a part of her would never let him go. But why did he stand up for this man of all people? Why couldn't he understand?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a powerful flap of wings. She felt the cold presence before she saw him. The mysterious man landed a few meters behind her, his wings spread threateningly as he looked at her. Drops of water ran down his hood and his turquoise eyes glowed with anger.

"What the hell was that down there?!" His voice was loud, his words piercing the darkness like a knife. "You could have killed him! You had him right in front of you, and yet... nothing. Why did you hesitate?"

Rain took a deep breath before rising to her feet. She turned around slowly, her hands shaking slightly, but her voice was calm and firm as she spoke. "I had my reasons, Kaji."

"Reasons?!" He took a step closer, his gaze icy. "Your 'reasons' almost cost us the entire mission! We had him in our hands, and you... you let some sentimental crap stop you from finishing the job?!"

Rain held his gaze, even though her eyes shone with sadness and tiredness. "I won't let anything stop me, Kaji. I don't make my decisions lightly." Her voice grew cooler. "Perhaps you should learn that not every mission goes perfectly. But no, you don't know any different, do you?"

“What does that mean?” asked Kaji, his voice getting louder, but Rain remained calm.

"You're just like your father," she said, and there was something in her voice that Kaji couldn't quite read - something bitter and painful at the same time. "Impulsive, always angry when things don't go the way you want them to. Do you think that will help you?"

"My father?" Kaji's eyes narrowed and his wings twitched uncontrollably. "You never spoke about him. Not once. And now you're making comparisons like that?"

Rain closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to organize her thoughts. "Because there was nothing I wanted to talk about, Kaji. Your father was complicated... and I did enough to protect you from the shadows of his past."

"Protect?!" Kaji laughed bitterly, his voice now shaking with emotion. "From what? From the truth? From yourself? Or from what he really was? Tell me, finally tell me who he was!"

Rain was silent. Her hands clenched into fists, but she held his gaze. "You're not ready to know yet."

"Not ready?" Kaji stepped closer, his flames beginning to dance faintly around his hands - blue and ice-cold. "I'm not the little child you can control anymore. I have the right to know. Or are you trying to tell me he was just as much of a coward as Fischer?"

That was when Rain lost it. She took a step toward Kaji, her face inches from his. Her red eyes glowed like hot coals. "Stop saying things you don't know! Your father was many things, but he was never a coward. And you... you're just as stubborn as he is." She breathed heavily, then lowered her voice. "Maybe I should have told you the truth. Maybe I should have told you that he..." She stopped, her voice breaking, and she turned away abruptly.

Kaji was speechless for a moment. It was the first time he had seen Rain like this - broken, vulnerable, unsure. "Mom..." He sounded calmer now, almost gentle. "Then at least tell me why you hesitated with Hawks. Do you know him?"

Rain took a deep breath, as if the words were a heavy weight she had been carrying for years. She turned to him slowly and looked deep into his eyes. Her red eyes were filled with a weary clarity. "I'm sorry, Kaji," she said quietly, her voice rough with all the unspoken feelings. "I'm sorry for keeping the truth from you for so long. I know you're old enough to understand who your father was. You will get your answers, but not here."

Kaji wanted to say something, but he stopped. It was as if he absorbed the weight of her words and it seeped into him.

"For the next step in this mission..." She paused and closed her eyes for a moment, as if preparing for something, "...I would have had to tell you who your father is anyway. The person we are going to now will recognize you immediately and they will ask questions."

Rain looked at the rain falling like little blades on the roofs and then continued. "This person is our only chance to catch Fischer. She is the only one who can still help us."

Kaji nodded, and despite the anger and confusion building up inside him, he knew Rain was right. There was too much at stake for him to continue to argue.

Rain took one last deep breath, then turned to him. Her black wings spread in the cold, damp air. "Ready?" she asked, not hiding her determination, but her eyes betrayed how difficult the moment was for her too.

Kaji, still unsure what exactly to think of this whole drama, nodded. "Yes."

With one last look at the rain-soaked ground, Rain took off, her black wings beating once, and she rose into the sky. Kaji followed her, his bluish, shimmering wings breaking through the rain as he flew by her side into the darkness of the night.

Hawks Part

The rain fell in heavy curtains, turning the city streets into glittering mirrors. The light from the lanterns reflected in the puddles, offering an unreal contrast to the grim reality of the night. Hawks pulled his raincoat tighter around himself as he climbed the wide stairs to the police station. Shoto walked silently beside him, his shoulders slightly tense but his gaze as calm and focused as ever. The old stone walls of the station seemed even more oppressive in the darkness and rain than they already were, and the heavy wooden frame of the front door creaked under Hawks' hand as he opened it.

Inside, it was warmer, but no less bleak. The smell of wet fabric, stale coffee, and old paper hung in the air. Police officers scurried through the corridors with files in their hands, and the low hum of conversation was the background music that permeated everything. Hawks shook himself slightly, water dripping from his coat as he walked purposefully toward reception. Shoto followed him without a word, his footsteps echoing dully on the stone floor.

"I have to see Kenji," Hawks said curtly to the receptionist sitting at a small desk. She just nodded and pointed to the door at the end of the hall.

Hawks knocked twice before entering. The police chief, a tall man with a dog's head and sharp, piercing eyes, sat behind a massive desk covered with reports and files. His posture was as straight-backed and authoritative as ever, but when he saw Hawks and Shoto, he put down the file he had just been looking through and motioned for them to sit down.

"Hawks. Todoroki," he greeted them with a brief nod. His voice was deep and rough, with a certain authority as always. "I assume you're here because of Fischer."

"Exactly," Hawks replied, sinking into the chair in front of the desk. Shoto stood silently, arms folded, watching the exchange.

Kenji took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I have to admit that the situation is... difficult. We have him in custody, but without solid evidence, we cannot keep him for long."

Hawks nodded slowly. "I know there is no evidence at the moment. But we can't just let him go. Fischer has more dirt on his hands than meets the eye. We just have to dig deeper."

Kenji raised an eyebrow. "And what is this assumption based on?"

Hawks leaned forward slightly, his voice becoming more serious. "Someone I trust has made these allegations. She says that Fischer..." He paused for a moment, as if he was having difficulty saying it. "...that he is smuggling children across national borders under the guise of his logistics company."

Kenji stared at him, his eyes narrowing. "These are very serious allegations, Hawks. Who is this 'trustworthy person'?"

Hawks looked briefly at Shoto as if seeking support, but Shoto said nothing, his gaze remained cool and observant. Hawks turned back to Kenji. "Her name isn’t important. What matters is that she doesn't lie. If she says something, she has reasons for it."

Kenji snorted slightly. "Hawks, we both know how this works. Without proof, these are just words. Even if we dig deep into Fischer's past, there is no guarantee that we will find anything."

Shoto, who had been silent until now, took a step closer. "But if he were really innocent, he wouldn't react in such a panic," he said calmly. "Since his arrest, Fischer has done nothing but yell at his lawyer and try to pull strings to get him out.That's not the behavior of someone who has nothing to hide."

Kenji sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I understand your concerns. But this is no longer a heroic matter and we are working on evidence, not gut feeling."

Hawks leaned forward, his gaze burning into the police chief's. "This isn't a question of heroism, Kenji. This is a question of responsibility. You know as well as I do that some people are so good at hiding that they're never caught because no one has the courage to look closely. Fischer is one of those people. And if we let him go now because we don't want to dig, he'll go into hiding."

Kenji studied him for a long moment before grumbling quietly. "Fine. I'll put together a team to look into Fischer's enterprise. But if we don't find anything, Hawks, then he's free. I'm not going to go against the law, no matter how much you trust this person."

Hawks nodded, his expression showing no sign of triumph. "That's all I ask. Dig deep, Kenji. You'll find something."

Kenji looked at him once more before turning to Shoto. "And you? What do you think?"

Shoto shrugged his shoulders almost imperceptibly, but his voice was firm. "I trust Hawks and I think Fischer gives us a lot of reasons not to let him out of our sight."

Kenji stood up and tapped his hand lightly on the desk. "Then I will start the investigation. But remember: without results, this is over."

Hawks also stood up, his coat still slightly damp from the wetness he had brought in. "Thanks, Kenji."

Kenji just nodded and Shoto opened the door before they both stepped out into the hallway. The rain hadn't let up and the blurry points of light from the city could be seen through the windows. Hawks was silent, but his mind was racing.

Hawks closed the door of the police station behind him and a cold draft hit him. The rain had not let up, it still pelted heavily on the asphalt, stretching over the world like an endless curtain. The street lamps cast a dim light on the soaked vehicles parked in the parking lot, and the puddles beneath reflected the dull colors of the sky. Hawks pulled up the collar of his coat and shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he walked down the steps.

Shoto kept pace beside him, his face calm but thoughtful. He said nothing, and Hawks was almost grateful for the silence. There was too much going on inside him and too little he could put into words.

When they got downstairs, they both stood for a moment under the canopy, where the rain wasn't falling directly on them. Hawks leaned his back against one of the pillars and looked at Shoto out of the corner of his eye. "Shall I drive you home?" he finally asked, his voice sounding rougher than usual, almost hoarse.

Shoto shook his head without looking at him. His hands were in the pockets of his coat and his eyes seemed to be following the rain that was falling in endless streaks. "No, thank you. I prefer to walk. I... want to think a bit."

Hawks raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "Thinking? About what?"

Shoto hesitated for a moment before answering quietly, "About that man. The one with the blue ice flames." He lifted his gaze to meet Hawks’s with quiet intensity. "He was strong... dangerous. But something about him seemed... familiar to me."

Hawks nodded slowly, his eyes moving to a dark spot in the distance. "Yes... He reminded me of someone too." His voice became even quieter, almost like a whisper. "But sometimes it's better not to pursue such thoughts too deeply. They often lead to places you don't want to go."

Shoto let the words sink in for a moment before turning away. "Maybe. But I feel like I can't ignore these thoughts. Something about him... it won't let me go." He turned back to Hawks, his gaze piercing. "Thanks for offering to drive me home. We'll keep in touch about Fischer."

"Sure," Hawks said with a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Take care, Shoto."

"You too," Shoto replied shortly before turning away and walking out into the rain. His dark cloak quickly became heavy from the wetness, but he walked away with firm steps, his silhouette slowly disappearing into the darkness.

Hawks stood there a moment longer, water droplets sliding along the edges of his coat, watching Shoto's figure disappear into the hazy mist. Then he exhaled quietly and turned toward his car.

The drive home was silent. The rain drummed on the roof of the car, the streets were empty, and the city lights passed by like blurred memories. Hawks held his hands loosely on the steering wheel, but his thoughts were far away. He saw Rain's face again, the determination in her eyes, but also the sadness that she could never completely hide.

When he finally reached the underground parking garage of his apartment building, the weather felt like a curse that had followed him all the way home. The garage door slowly closed behind him, and the crackling sound was muffled as he turned off the engine and got out. His footsteps echoed on the cold concrete floor, and he pushed the elevator button with a tired finger.

The elevator ride was short, yet it dragged like a lifetime. The mirror in the cabin showed his face, marked by tiredness and something he couldn't quite put his finger on - or didn't want to.

When he unlocked the door to his apartment, the silence was almost oppressive. Hawks took off his shoes and left them carelessly next to the door. The jacket of his suit landed on a nearby chair, its soaked corners leaving small marks on the wood.

He shuffled into the kitchen and switched on the light, which cast a cold white glow over the countertops. His fingers found the switch of the coffee machine as if by themselves, and the familiar whir of the machine filled the room.

Without waiting for the coffee, he went into the living room. The large window front offered a view of the rainy city, but Hawks paid no attention to it. His steps led him to the simple pedestal above the fireplace.

With a slow movement, he unfastened the sword from his belt and lifted it onto the pedestal. His fingers lingered on the scabbard for a moment, as if it had a weight of its own that was more than just metal.

"I miss you," Hawks murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. The sound was lost in the steady sound of rain hitting the window panes. The room remained cloaked in shadow, lit only by the faint shimmer of city lights bleeding through the rain-streaked windows.

"I miss you too, Keigo." The words were quiet, almost timid, but they hit him like a thunderclap.

Hawks froze. His heart skipped a beat, only to then thunder in a wild, uncontrollable rhythm. His thoughts exploded, racing around like birds suddenly startled from sleep. This couldn't be happening. This shouldn't be happening. His apartment was locked. How could—

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he turned around. Every muscle in his body was tense, as if he were about to fight at any moment. But what he saw took his breath away.

She stood on the threshold between the hall and the living room.

Rain.

The first impression was like a punch to the gut. Its outline was familiar – far too familiar for his heart not to react to it immediately. She looked more mature, and her shoulders now visibly bore the weight of years. But her face... her eyes... those deep red, intense eyes that glowed even in the twilight – they remained the same.

Hawks said nothing, he couldn't say anything. The words caught in his throat, frozen in the heat of the emotions coursing through him.

Rain took a tentative step forward. Her arms hung indecisively at her sides, as if unsure whether to wrap themselves protectively around herself or reach out to him.

"You..." She cleared her throat softly, her voice shaky, nervous. "You didn't lock your balcony door again, Keigo."

A faint, almost apologetic smile crossed her lips, but vanished immediately. "I... we stood outside for a while. I didn't know if I should really go in, but... I wanted to talk to you."

Hawks didn't move. He just stared at her, as if she might vanish into smoke at any moment, like a memory too beautiful.

"I..." Rain inhaled, her voice vibrating with the pressure of emotion. "I'm sorry. For just leaving. For leaving you... and Dabi alone. I should have explained it to you, I—"

A beep suddenly broke the tense silence. The coffee maker in the kitchen chimed in with a shrill sound, tearing Hawks out of his trance.

His head jerked to the side, then back to Rain. Something inside him broke – a dam he'd held for 16 years.

Without another word, without even thinking about it, he walked toward her. With two firm steps he stood directly in front of her. His arms wrapped around her. Strong, desperately searching for support.

Rain gasped in surprise, her lips parted, but no sound came out. She felt his heartbeat pounding against her chest – felt his fingers clawing at her back, as if he were afraid she might vanish into thin air again.

"You're back..." Hawks stammered hoarsely, his face pressed against her shoulder, his voice fragile, barely a shadow of what it once was. "You're really back..."

Rain stood stock still, overcome by the force of his emotions. Then, slowly, she put her arms around him. Hesitantly at first, almost shyly. But when she felt the trembling in his body, heard the pain in his voice, she held him tighter.

Tears welled in her eyes, burning hotly as she realized what this moment meant.

He had missed her as much as she had missed him.

From the shadows of the hallway, hidden between darkness and dim light, two turquoise-blue eyes flashed.

Kaji stood motionless in the darkness of the hallway leading to the entrance. He didn't speak a word and barely dared to breathe for fear of being discovered.

The scene before him felt unreal, and it punched him in the gut.

He had never seen his mother like this before. Not so... vulnerable, never so lost.

Rain Black had always been a force of nature to him—unflappable, cool, and calculating, with eyes that never trembled even in the darkest hours. She had taught him never to show weakness. Never to trust too much, and certainly not to love unless you were ready to bear the pain of loss.

But now she stood there... looking as if she would break at any moment... wrapped in the arms of a man Kaji didn't know. Hawks – Keigo Takami.

Of course he'd heard of Hawks – the former hero who once soared the skies with his wings. The man who lost his Quirk in the war against All For One and saved countless lives.

But no one had told him that this man had once lost his heart to Rain. Or that he was part of that repressed chapter that also included his father.

The weight of this realization pressed heavily on his chest. It was as if a lost mosaic was finally coming together – piece by piece, in slow, painful clarity.

A soft creaking of the wooden floorboards made him wince. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Rain moved.

She didn't completely break the embrace, but took a half step back, just enough to meet his eyes. Her hands remained on his chest, as if seeking support, her gaze boring into his.

"I..." she began, her voice rough, as if covered in dust after all these years of silence. "I wanted to come back, Keigo. I tried, honestly."

Her lips trembled, but she forced herself to continue. "But I couldn't. Back then... The League, the heroes, the war... It would have been too dangerous to come back, and I had to—"

Her voice trailed off, as if she had to pause for a moment to find the right words between tears and grief.

"I had to protect him.”

Last Part <– | –> Next Part (coming soon)

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Chasing Your Shooting Star (13/19)

Pairing: Uni Student|Xavier x Uni Student|Reader (fem)

Summary: Allies are made and Xavier is left pouting after overhearing you tell someone he's single.

Content warnings: Adult language. Sub!Xavier. Dom!Reader. Restraints. Orgasm delay/denial. Sex toys (vibrator). P in V. Idk what to say the switch in me popped off. Literally got way more into it than intended (O_o)

Length: 6600

Chapters: (First) (Previous)

Read on AO3

Weeks passed as life took a new normalcy. You didn’t recognize it as being normal at first. All the changes that were happening gradually felt so odd when they happened. The first you had noticed was how much more relaxed you were now that you weren’t dedicating all the energy you had to studying and being the best at everything. You didn’t walk into every class feeling like you were entering a battlefield that you had to navigate. You simply took your seat and took notes and answered questions and left without worrying about what the next day would bring.

The second was how much happier you were. You had not had the chance to realize how much you pushed back against life until you stopped. It was as if you believed that you had to remain stoic and immovable to make it through the world unscathed. Since you started relaxing more and dating Xavier though, the world felt brighter. You found you were smiling more, humming along to music, and even laughing much more than you used to.

The third change you noticed was how irritating you found your mother. You had never thought about it much before but the more time you spent with her the more you wanted to get away. The whole reason you had started your weekend breakfast plans was because you had wanted to spend more time with her and it was a good way for her to check in on you. Now every weekend you dreaded dragging yourself to her apartments to eat the same meal and listen to her harp on about everything you were doing wrong. She was a critical woman and she expected a lot out of you but had it always felt this suffocating?

Lastly, the major difference you realized had become normal was how much more sociable you had become. Before you had kept your head down and pushed through, not interested in talking to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. People called you an ice queen for a reason and it took you finally relaxing to realize that it was kind of warranted. You had thought you were rejecting interactions because you were focused on school but it was also because you didn’t want to get to know anyone either. But things had shifted. It was as if everyone else could see the changes you were going through and they started approaching you more. And this time when they approached you didn’t snap or shoo them away. You greeted them and smiled and chatted.

Not everyone had suddenly changed their opinion of you, that would be impossible with how firmly you had cemented your ice queen reputation the past couple of years. But there were some people who hadn’t had many classes with you before or had not been taken in by the other hateful group that started opening up to you.

It started in combat training. You were in the locker room getting changed, you were excited to finally be allowed to fight again as you donned the uniform. The girls that had been friends with Irene glared at you from their bench, still angry that you had gotten their friend kicked out of the class. Then another girl had nervously walked up to you, cutting you off from the others line of sight. She was a couple inches taller than you but she hunched over herself, as if she was trying to appear smaller and take up less space.

“Hi,” she said, “So…you’re finally good to be training again?”

“Oh uh, yeah.” you blinked, surprised she was talking to you. “All good to go.”

“That’s good. I’ve missed watching you fight.” she said. “If I didn’t know any better I would have thought the fights you have with Xavier were choreographed given how quick and fluid they are. You move so naturally it’s kind of amazing.”

“Wow, thank you.” you had never received such a compliment from one of the girls. “I’m so sorry, I don’t recall your name.”

“Simone. Nice to formally meet you.” she said.

“If it doesn’t sound rude, what rank are you?”

“Oh I’m pretty middling. The only reason I’m taking combat is because it’s required for my degree. My degree is in mechanical engineering and I plan on going into weapon development after I graduate. Part of modifying weapons and equipment though is knowing how to use it.” she said proudly.

“That’s really cool. What kind of modifications?”

Simone was practically buzzing with excitement at being able to tell you about her ideas and the mods she had already done to several projects she’d been working on in class. When you went out to the training area you stretched together while you kept talking. You caught Xavier’s gaze over Simone’s shoulder and he gave you a proud little thumbs up when he saw you talking with someone other than him. You rolled your eyes, a small blush burning up your neck.

Had you made a friend?

Over the weeks you were glad to say that you had indeed made a new friend. A few actually. Simone had introduced you to her friend group, a couple people in her mechanics classes that you wouldn’t have really met before Oaklyn, Jiaxin, and Harper. They new about you vaguely but none of them sneered at you either. Whatever impression you were giving it was a far cry from what they may have heard.

It was fun. You were getting meals together, they invited you to study with them, there was even a sleepover they were having in one of their dorms that you got to go to. You stayed up late talking and laughing and playing board games. Snacks covered every available free space and you could barely move without accidentally almost knocking into another girl. It was cramped and trying to fit five girls into two twin sized beds was a challenge but it was all part of the experience. You were squished between Simone and the wall when you finally packed it in to go to sleep but you didn’t mind one bit.

Was this what you had been missing all these years? You were glad to have a boyfriend, you had never been so appreciative to have someone like Xavier in your life. But a boyfriend was not the same as having regular girl friends.

Xavier was happy for you but it didn’t stop him from pouting when he suggested doing something and you had to tell him you already had plans.

“Xavier, it’s one afternoon.” you poked his face, “Stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting.” he muttered, arms crossed and expression sour.

“What do you call it then?” you settled your hands on your hips.

“Not pouting.”

“You are so stupid sometimes but it’s okay cause you’re so cute.” you gave his cheek a kiss. “Come by my room tonight and I’ll give you some extra special attention, how does that sound?”

“What kind of attention?” he asked.

“The best kind.” you smiled mischievously. “So?”

“Okay. Have fun with your friends. I’ll see you tonight.” he beamed. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. He was so easy to please.

It was another normal day. The girls had invited you to get lunch with them after class so you went along. You were waiting in line to pick up your meals from the cafeteria when one of the boys from your class waltzed up, his gaze set on you. Trevor if you were getting his name right, he was one of the people that was friends with Dean and Irene, and thus hated you. What did he want?

“Can you move so I can grab some extra napkins?” he said.

You blinked, not expecting that but stepped back to let him grab some napkins. He stretched past you, his gaze not leaving you as he grabbed a fistful from the table. “Wow. I didn’t think it would ever happen.”

“What?” you sighed, not in the mood to deal with him. You were just trying to get some lunch.

“You finally found someone that could calm you the hell down.” he said with a snort.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you snapped.

“I mean you’ve been downright pleasant the past couple of weeks and it’s obvious now why.” he poked a tender spot on the side of your neck. “Someone got some dick that finally fucked you into being docile.”

Your face grew hot in mortification and anger. There was a bruise on your neck from the other night when you were having sex with Xavier. You thought your collar was high enough to hide it but it must have slipped down a bit to reveal the bruise.

A fury that had been absent the past couple of weeks surged forward but before you could lay into him for saying all of that the girls jumped in pushed you behind them. “Leave her alone, Trevor. What she does in her spare time is none of your business.”

“Oh come on, like you guys are actually friends with that frigid bitch.” Trevor scoffed. “It’s all just pity, isn’t it?”

“Screw you!” Oaklyn snapped at him. “She’s sweet and you’re an ass!”

“Yeah. No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend if this is how you treat people.” Simone sneered. “Beat it.”

“Crazy bitches.” he muttered and walked away, not finding the argument worth the energy anymore.

“What a dick. Ignore him.” the girls ushered you away to a table. “I get that he’s pissed about what happened with Dean and Irene but he really shouldn’t take it out on you. It was their own stupid fault they got punished.”

“I…I wasn’t expecting all of that.” you said. “You guys didn’t have to step in like that.”

“And what? Let him talk to you like that?” Jiaxin scoffed, “Unlikely.”

“I mean, to be fair, I was kind of a jerk before.”

“You were cold but you weren’t mean.” Simone said, “Either way, it doesn’t give him any right to say shit like that to you now.”

“I will say, something he said did make me curious.” Harper said, pointing to her neck. “I noticed it earlier but didn’t want to pry.”

“Oh,” you covered the spot on your neck. “It’s nothing. Just a one night stand.” You hated referring to it that way but you didn’t want anyone suspecting you of having a boyfriend.

The girls shrugged and the subject was dropped. As you were sitting around eating the mood lightened and the conversation turned. You noticed halfway through your meal that Xavier had walked in. You couldn’t help watching him from your table as he went and loaded a huge plate of food up on his tray. It was mostly meat. Seriously, where was he putting it all?

“Damn, that boy eats like a horse.” Harper followed your line of sight to Xavier. “How does he stay so fit?”

“Oh Xavier?” Simone turned to look at him. Xavier took a spot at a table not far from yours. “He’s in our combat class and I can assure you that he burns up all that food. He’s top of the class for a reason.”

“Oh, that’s Xavier?” Jiaxin craned her neck to get a better look at him. “I’ve heard a lot of girls talking about the hot transfer student but I haven’t seen him before. He is really cute.”

“Why’s he eating all alone?” Oaklyn asked. “You’d think a guy that good looking would have a lot of friends.”

“You’d think.” you said with a small chuckle.

Simone turned to you. “Oh right, you spend a lot of time with him. You two are friends, aren’t you?”

Damn it. You should have kept your mouth shut. “I mean, yeah. We hang out now and again.”

“Cool. So…” Harper leaned closer, “If you’re friends do you know if he’s dating anyone?”

“Dating?” you said a tad louder than you meant. Your eyes darted over to Xavier at the next table.

“I was wondering the same thing but I didn’t want to say it.” Simone said. “I mean, he’s really handsome and he seems really sweet. He’s got that kind of quiet and bookish thing going on when he’s not fighting.”

“Sounds like the ideal boyfriend.” Oaklyn sighed, “I’d be surprised if he was still single.”

All eyes turned to you for confirmation. “Oh uh…” Crap! “I uh, I’m not sure if he’s dating anyone. I don’t think so.”

“Ooh! Maybe I can ask him out then.” Harper said.

“Yeah…” your hands balled into fists in your lap. You glanced over at Xavier again and caught his eye. He was frowning and in an instant you could tell that he had heard all of that.

Since Simone was the only one that was in combat training with you you had hoped that meant the end of the talking about Xavier. But now the others were curious as to how good a fighter Xavier was, and you and Simone by extension so they tagged along to watch the class. You tried not to curse your luck but it was hard to not feel awkward about the whole situation.

When you got changed and went to the training area there was Xavier warming up. He was pouting again but it wasn’t the normal kind of pouting you were used to. There was some anger simmering underneath.

You looked to make sure the girls were occupied and sidled up next to him. “Hey, how’s your day going?”

“Fine.” he answered stiffly.

You lowered your voice to a whisper. “Is this about what happened at lunch?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m going to ask one of the guys if they want to spar.” he stood up and walked away.

Damn it all! You weren’t used to Xavier being angry. You didn’t like it.

You went back to the girls and plopped down on the floor. They were chatting amongst themselves and happily watching Xavier as he went through some combinations with one of the other guys in the class. When class was over you were going to talk to him.

“It’s really hot in here today, don’t you think?” Xavier said, his voice ringing louder in the room than normal. On instinct heads were drawn to him.

“They kicked on the heater since the weather is getting colder. Makes the room a little hotter than normal until they even it out.” the guy he was sparring with said.

“No kidding.” he sighed and with a glance over at you he pulled the shirt off over his head.

That absolute asshole! It wasn’t unusual for one of the guys to go without a shirt during training if things got intense but Xavier had never been one of them. This was the first time any of them were seeing him shirtless and without even looking at the others you could tell jaws had dropped. You knew your boyfriend was hot. You knew he was well sculpted and all that underneath those hoodies and loose workout clothes. And now so did everyone else.

You were prepared to write it off as his version of a tantrum, nothing more than him trying to get you hot and bothered but then he turned around. All along his back were deep red scratch marks that you had made the previous night. There were also bruises along his shoulders and chest that upon closer inspection could clearly be identified as love bites.

What the fuck was he doing! Why was he risking your secret like this?

“Holy shit,” one of the guys whistled, “What little hellion scratched you up like that?”

“Oh right,” he played it off as if he had completely forgotten the marks were there. “Forgot I had those. I’ve gotten so used to my girlfriend marking me up that I didn’t even think about it.”

“Oh boo, he’s got a girlfriend.” Harper sighed. “I knew a guy that hot wasn’t gonna stay single for long.”

“We didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” the guys said. “Good for you. Who is she?”

“That’s not really your business. Our relationship is private.” Xavier said, which relieved you a little.

“Oh come on, we can’t even know her name?” Simone piped up from your group. “It’s not like we’re asking for all the juicy details.”

“Sorry. She’s really private about this kind of stuff.” Xavier shrugged like it wasn’t anything and went back to sparring.

“Well that stinks,” Jiaxin said, “I guess congrats to the girl that landed him.”

Simone turned to you. “You know who he’s dating? You hang out with him the most so you have to have some idea.”

“You all are seriously overestimating how much time we actually spend together.” you said quickly, trying to bury this topic as fast as possible. “I really had no idea either.”

“Maybe you can investigate.” Oaklyn said. “If he’ll tell anyone he may tell you.”

“Why do you want to know who he’s dating so bad?” you tried not to panic thinking about what they may do.

“I’m just nosey.” Oaklyn giggled. “I’m also curious to see what his type is. Were you scared I was going to try some outlandish plan to break them up or something?”

“I wouldn’t put it past some of the girls here.” Simone spat, eyeing a group in the corner that were eyeing up Xavier like a piece of meat. “You should hear the way they talk about him in the locker room, you’d think they’d never seen a good looking man before. I have no doubt if they learned who his girlfriend is they’d harass her nonstop until she broke up with him.”

“They wouldn’t be that terrible, would they?” you asked, paranoia itching at you.

“You’ve been in class with them longer, you tell me.”

You sighed. “Yeah. They would.” Just another reason you had to keep all of this a secret.

The instructor came in and ordered everyone to settle down before launching into the training for the day. People went and fought until it was finally down to you and Xavier again. “Alright,” the instructor said, “Same as everyone else. You get to choose how you’re fighting today. Shen, you’re ranked higher so you get to pick.”

“Hand to hand.” Xavier said which surprised you since his strength was definitely swords. There had to be some ulterior motivation. He was still shirtless too, he hadn’t bothered putting it back on after he was done warming up. The boy was definitely up to something.

“Kick his ass!” Oaklyn shouted from her seat.

You suppressed a laugh and turned to face Xavier. “You know I’m best at hand to hand, you really want to do this?”

“I’ll take my chances.” he said.

The start of the match was called and you rushed forward. He was prepared to catch your tackle but you surprised him by sliding between his spread legs. In the time it took him to realize what you had done and turned around you were already posed to leap again and tackled him to the ground.

You planted one knee on his arm to pin it but before you could subdue his other arm he grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked you off. Then in a move you were all too familiar with in a much different setting he grabbed the thigh of the leg you had been pinning him with and stretched it back as if he was trying to fold you in half. What the hell was he doing?

He kept your one leg trapped hooked over his shoulder as he leaned over you and forced your arms down, pinning them above your head. Your face broiled with heat as you realized this was one of the positions he had you in last night. He had somehow turned it into a wrestling pin! “We need to talk after class.” he whispered before the pin was called and he let you up.

Gods damn that boy! You did not need to get so confusingly turned on during training like this! Why was he acting this way?

You shuffled over back to your friends who were staring bug eyed at you and Xavier. “No one told me fighting could be hot.” Harper said. “If I didn’t know any better I would have thought he was going to start having his way with you on the floor right then.”

“Nope. Just wrestling. It involves getting really close and up in your oppositions business.” you tried to act like it hadn’t flustered you at all.

“They’re always like that.” Simone said. “You should watch them swordfight. It’s not as bad as whatever the hell that was but it sometimes looks like they’re dancing when they fight.”

With class over the girls went to go back about their day and you went to find Xavier. He was waiting in the hall for you and you followed him out of the building so you could talk in private.

“Do you want to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you now?” you asked. “Why were you broadcasting that you have a girlfriend to everyone?”

“I didn’t say it was you.” he kept his gaze down on the ground.

“People might deduce it though. Why risk it?”

“I…I didn’t like hearing it.” he said quietly. “What you said to your friends. I didn’t like hearing you tell people I was single. I know you don’t want people figuring out our relationship but I don’t want others to flirt with me.”

“I don’t like it either but I didn’t know what to say to them when they asked.”

“You could tell them truth.”

“You know why I can’t do that.”

“No, I don’t actually. You said before it was because of your mom. What about your mom knowing means that we can’t be open about us dating?”

“You’ve seen how she acts. You’ve seen how hard she works me. If I said I was dating someone she’d say that I wasn’t being serious about my studies. Also, add on the fact that you took my top spot in combat training and my mother would throw an even bigger fit about dating the competition. I just know that she’d claim you were doing all of this to make me lose my edge--”

“You understand how ridiculous that is, right? You mom cannot seriously be that cynical.”

“It’s obvious that you haven’t seen the full extent of how cynical my mother truly can be.” you sighed, your step slowing as you got closer to your dorm. “She wasn’t always like this. She has always been insistent with me about doing well in school but after my dad died she became more and more unreasonable. He was really good at helping to ground her and when he died I think my mom started channeling her grief into overseeing everything about my life. Now I have to be the best.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yeah…”

“But, what are you scared is going to happen if your mom does find out?”

“I don’t know. I fear the fight that will ensue will uproot our entire relationship once and for all and I don’t know if I am ready to deal with that yet. There’s so much that’s been pent up on either side, like a bottle of soda that’s been shaken too much. The second the lid pops off it’s all going to come spilling out and I won’t be able to recover anything.

“I have one more semester of school before I graduate and I don’t know what I’m going to do after that. My mother and grandmother are assuming I’m going to take up as CEO of the company my family owns but I know I don’t want to do that. I’m not really sure what I want either.”

“Well, you have several months to figure it out.” Xavier squeezed your hand. “And if keeping our relationship a secret is what is going to keep the peace between you and your mom then I will keep this a secret. I don’t want to add any more stress to your life. I only ever want to relieve it.”

You smiled up at him. “Care to help me with some relief right now?” you sent a glance back at the dorm building.

“Always.” he grinned and followed as you pulled him inside and up into your bedroom.

Once you were safely inside your bedroom you pulled Xavier directly towards the bed and shoved him down onto it. You crawled on top of him and pinned his arms up above his head. “Okay, not what I thought you wanted.” he said.

“I thought it only fair considering what you did during combat training today.” you watched his face flush. “Yeah, want to explain that to me? That was a rather unorthodox pin you put me in.”

“I didn’t hear any complaints about it last night.”

“Well, if the goal was to turn me on then you succeeded. Unfortunately, the only one that’s going to be pinned this time is you.” you pressed his arms deeper into the bed, leaning in close to his face. “I still have a lot of energy, do you mind so terribly if I take it out on you?”

“Not at all.” he stared at your lips. “Whatever you want, sunshine.”

“Always so polite.” you took off the belt from his pants and used it to tie his hands to the headboard. “Where was my polite boy earlier? I was left with someone downright rude during training. He threw a bit of a tantrum, broadcasting to everyone our secret and pinning me suggestively in front of the entire class. That’s not my good boy.”

“Sorry.” he said, his skin flushing. “I didn’t meant to embarrass you.”

“That’s good to hear.” you slowly started unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his torso inch by inch. “But I think I need a better apology. Don’t worry, I’ll work one out of you soon enough.”

It wasn’t strange for you to take charge when in the bedroom but you were rarely so intense about it. Xavier’s teasing paired with your frustration earlier had you eager to take back some control and you had the perfect idea on how.

“You want to make it up to me, Xavier?” you parted his unbuttoned shirt, your gaze lingering on the muscles he had so brazenly been showing off earlier.

“Yes.”

You grin was sharp as a knife. “Then don’t come until I give you permission. Think you can do that?”

He gulped. “I’ll try my best.”

“Good boy.” you trailed a finger down his chest, watching how his breath caught at the mere touch of your hand. When you got to the waist of his pants instead of pulling them off you ran your hand over the growing bulge tenting against the fabric. Xavier tensed, taking in a sharp breath as you palmed his cock through his pants. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” you prompted.

“Yes, my goddess.” he said. “It feels good.”

“You’re usually so assertive in bed, tossing me around and folding me however you want. But you’re so compliant when I have you at my mercy. It’s rather adorable.” you shuffled his pants down his hips and watched how his cock tried to now escape the thinner confines of his underwear.

“I’ve been accused of being fucked so well it made me tame. As if I was nothing more than a misbehaving puppy that needed beat into submission. I don’t think that’s accurate, do you?”

“No, my goddess.”

“And why is that?”

“No one could ever tame you.”

“How sweet. And correct. In truth, I have calmed down but it has less to do with the cock and more to do with the person it’s attached to.” you teased the tip of him over his underwear until a stain started to wet the head. “I’m really grateful to have you in my life, Xavier. You’re so kind and attentive, and when I want it you can fuck my brains out. Then the next day you’re being so obedient and patient, letting me tie you up and tease you like this. You’re a very good boyfriend.”

“Thank you, goddess.” he bit back another moan as you slipped his cock out of his underwear. It fell back against his abdomen, hard as a rock and the tip was red and leaking pre-cum.

Gods above he was so hot like this. Tied up and half dressed, his cock hard and his eyes pleading. You were going to have fun teasing him.

You ignored his cock for now and instead ran your hands up his chest, teasing his nipples with your thumbs. His hips automatically thrust up, hitting only air. You scratched down his chest, watching in reverence as the deep red lines bloomed under your nails. He had been quite right about you earlier, you loved leaving marks. And since he had already let everyone know he had a girlfriend you were going to leave plenty more.

You latched onto his neck, sucking a dark bruise onto his throat then matching it on the other side, high enough that they’d stand out to everyone unless he wore a scarf or something. He could tell what you were doing and it only made his heart beat faster. You couldn’t come right out and stake your claim but you could damn well show everyone he wasn’t up for grabs. He was your boyfriend, no one else’s.

“Goddess--theá mou--please!” he moaned as you bit down on his thigh, leaving a deep bite mark in the flesh. “I thought you wanted some stress relief.”

“This is relieving.” you stared at his cock. You hadn’t touched it again and he was leaking pre-cum all over his stomach, waiting for you to use him. “It’s so cute seeing you worked up like this. I don’t think I’ve seen you so desperate before.”

“Please, goddess! I’ll be so good if you fuck me. Please! I need you to touch me!” his arms pulled against the restraints.

“I am touching you.” you trailed a hand up his thigh but deviated away from his cock at the last second. He threw his head back against the pillow in frustration. “Or is it you want me to use you like I would a toy? Please myself on you? Is that what you want?”

“Yes! Please! Use me!” he looked at you with wild hope.

“Toys don’t talk.” you slid off his body. He looked like he wanted to say something but bit his tongue. “But I still want eyes on me.”

He watched as you stripped, torturously slowly peeling every layer away and placing them in your hamper until you were completely naked. He made a whining sound in his throat but didn’t utter a word as you instructed. You got an idea and rifled around in your bedside drawer until you found your vibrator in the back. You hadn’t had to use it since dating Xavier and now you were finding a new use for it.

You knelt back on the bed, straddling his torso but not touching him as you flicked on the toy. Xavier watched as you ran it over your body, warming yourself up as it passed over your chest and down your stomach. You ran it up and down your thighs, feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter the more you teased yourself.

You brought it to your clit and moaned as the vibrations sent pleasure ricocheting up your spine. It would have been so easy to keep it pressed there and come just like that. You were half tempted to just from the way that Xavier was glaring at the toy like it personally offended him. So jealous, even when the thing fucking you was a piece of plastic.

You passed the vibrator up and down your slit, coating it in your arousal. Gods above you wanted to shove it in and go to town. But you were riding the high of teasing Xavier far too much to end the game now.

“I didn’t think I’d have two toys to play with in bed.” you said through a moan as you teased the tip inside your pussy. “I don’t know which one I like better. This toy can vibrate and that really helps me come fast, but this toy--” you ran the vibrator up the underside of his cock. A strangled cry was barely smothered his lips. “--is bigger and fills me up so well. Which one should I come on?”

You knew the moment you gave power back to Xavier he was going to get his revenge on you for teasing him like this but you didn’t focus on that now. All you wanted to see was how far you could push him until he finally cracked.

You flicked the toy off and held it close to Xavier’s face. Your arousal glistened on the smooth plastic. “Do you want a taste?”

He nodded.

“Stick your tongue out.” you watched as he opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out as far as it would go. “Lick.” his tongue brushed the toy, greedily lapping up the juices that coated it.

You pulled the toy back. “I think you cleaned it plenty.” you told him. He looked disappointed before you leaned down and kissed him. He kissed you back desperately, pouring everything he was holding back into it.

“You’ve been so good, Xavier. I think you’ve earned a reward now.” you sat back up. “You’re such a well-behaved boyfriend when you want to be. That’s what you want, right? To be my boyfriend?”

He nodded furiously.

“You can talk now, Xavier. Use your words, sweetie.”

“Thank you.” he said, his voice cracked with need. “And yes, my goddess. I want to be your boyfriend--your good boyfriend.”

“And you’ll do whatever I say?” you inched your way back so you were straddling his hips. He was eyeing the distance between his cock and your pussy.

“Yes, my goddess.”

“Do you want to hold me?”

“Yes.”

“Please me?”

“Yes!” he groaned, “Fuck yes! Everything! I’ll do everything! Please just fuck me! Ride me! I need to feel you around me!”

“Beg a little more. It turns me on.”

“Please! Please, my goddess! Please use me! I’ll be better than your toy! I promise! Please! I swear I won’t come until you say so! I just want you to use me! Please!” he blathered on, promising anything and everything if it would get him the relief he so achingly needed.

“And earlier? Do you want to try that apology again?”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for misbehaving! I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that in front of the class! All I could think about was myself. I’m sorry! Please let me make it up to you!”

With a smile you tossed the vibrator aside. “You’ve been so good. And I forgive you for what happened earlier since you gave me such a nice apology. I’ll be sure to use you properly like you asked. Remember that you can’t come without permission though. If you come before I say then I’m going to pick my other toy back up and make you watch as I come over and over around that instead of you. Got it?”

“Yes. I promise not to come until you say.”

Satisfied with your work you took his cock in hand and slammed yourself down onto it. Xavier let out a strangled cry as you were finally seated on him. You weren’t making this easy on him though. You rode him fast and hard, your bodies pounding together.

Xavier was being such a good sport and doing his damn best not to come despite how close he obviously was. He wasn’t going to last long, you had made sure of that. He was trying to breathe through it, clenching his eyes shut so he wasn’t motivated to come by the sight of your bouncing tits or the sight of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. That wouldn’t do.

“I said eyes on me, Xavie.” you grabbed his chin, jerking it back towards you. His eyes opened and he let out a small whimper, his hands gripping the headboard so tightly you worried he was going to break it.

Fuck you were so close! You knew that you were teasing him with the toy earlier but nothing could make you come quite like the stretch and heat of his cock in your cunt. Your breathing came faster, your moans turning into punctuated gasps as you neared your climax. “You can come now!” you told him, “Come with me! I need you to come with me!”

“Thank you!” he blubbered, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I’m--I--I--ah fuck! Coming!”

You hit your climax at the same time, Xavier moaning louder than you as he finally came, emptying every drop of cum he could inside you until his dick went soft and his body slumped, spent and exhausted back against the bed. Your body was still trembling as you undid the knot keeping his hands tied above his head. He was breathing deeply trying to catch his breath, his arms falling back to his sides like a limp rag doll.

You slid off him and rolled him over so he was reclining in your arms. “You did so well, sweetie.” you pressed reassuring soft kisses to his face. “You were so good. Just breathe now, relax in my arms. I got you.”

“Was that…” he took a few more deep breaths. “Was that partly revenge for overstimulating you so much the other day?”

You shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

He sighed, nestling into you more with a content lazy smile on his face. “Revenge really is sweet.”

“Isn’t that my line?”

“My girlfriend rode me until I came the hardest I’ve come before. I win.”

You rolled your eyes, tucking him in closer against you. “You’re so luck you’re cute.”

“Do you feel better?” he asked, staring up at you through long wet lashes.

“Much. Thanks for letting me do that. I really needed it.” you smoothed out some of his wild hair.

“Trust me, the pleasure was all mine.” he inhaled the scent of your skin. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I guess I was also upset about everyone drooling over you.” you said. “I want to let people know we’re together if only to get them to back off of you but I know I can’t, not yet.”

“Because of your mom?”

“Amongst other things.” you frowned. “I think there are a subset of people that if they found out that you were dating me they’d try their best to break us up. They’d harass us until the pressure got to be too much and I don’t think I can handle that right now. I like that our relationship is only ours. I only wish that you weren’t so damn popular.”

“You really think people are that interested in me? I’m not trying to be popular.”

“Doesn’t matter when you go flashing everyone this body.” you hugged him close, “This is my Xavier! I don’t want them seeing you like that!”

“You know, you’re really cute when you’re jealous.” he smiled. “But I promise, I won’t do that again. My body is only for you as is everything else about me. I’d wear a bag over my head if you asked.”

“No need to go that far, but I like the dedication.” you felt something growing in your heart. It was large and powerful and terrifying, but it warmed you to the core. It occurred to you in a hazy blissful moment cuddled on your bed. You were falling in love with Xavier.

[into-the-milgramverse]

Fuuta crash out when

(don't mind the tags, i'm talking to fuuta)

[pyrodolls]

imagine all the yandere monsters in your village obsessed with you, the only human

naturally, you are seen as the monarch of the village. the only thing every creature can agree on, is that they love and respect you. even though you're not really interested in any of them.

THE WEREWOLF is the most aggressive of the creatures within the village. he’s the one that everyone fears. he isn’t the strongest, but he’s the one that never backs down from a fight. he’s the one that would shed anyone’s blood in your name without hesitation. he’s the one that doesn’t even try to hide the disgusted look in his eyes that flashes every time you lend someone else your kindness and attention. he always fantasizes about ripping them to shreds and carrying you away to safety.

he's boastful, and loud. he constantly challenges others to fights-- especially in front of you. he thinks you'll be impressed by his strength, and the more he shows off and wins fights, he'll also win your heart. he'd rip some poor nymph to shreds and hold the heart up to you, hoping you'll be proud of him and spare at least a glance his way. maybe even say he did a good job or perhaps tell him that he's oh so strong and courageous.

if only you treated him as more than a lapdog. if only you looked at him with the same adoration that he looks at you with. he’ll glare at everyone but you. he’ll ignore and growl at everyone he sees, because they're not you.

his infatuation with you is more than a respect for your royalty. deep down, he yearns to be by your side. he doesn’t need the power that you have, just as long as he’s the one with you. as long as he’s the only one that can stay with you and protect you from harm. he’ll stand at your guard for hours if you requested him to do so. he’ll happily accept your request with a rare sway to his tail.

he needs to be your guard. he needs to make sure you’re safe at all times or else he will deem himself worthless. with his sharp teeth, long claws and piercing stare, almost anyone would be frightened by the giant, aggressive werewolf at your side.

but no matter how rough and tough he acts; he’ll always crumble the second your hand raises up to his head to scratch or pat him on the head.

THE HARPY is the one that lusts after you the most. she's raunchy, easygoing, and mischievous. plus, of all the creatures, the harpy is the bluntest. she’ll gleefully and casually mention to you all of her wicked fantasies. every morning, she flies around trying to find you, and once she does, she goes on and on about the things she’s imagined you two doing. the other creatures are far more ashamed of their urges, thinking that they’re dirtying your image as their monarch. but the harpy? she doesn’t give a flying fuck if you’re the ruler or a peasant. she’s imagined your body in thousands of ways, none of them have to do with your status.

even though you have always rejected her advances, she’s always going to keep trying. she’s convinced that you’re just shy and in denial of your feelings. she’s convinced that you’re destined to be hers. she started doing outlandish things to catch your attention and get you out of your shell. she started physically touching you more, such as kissing your cheek and laying on your lap. she thinks you're in love with her, no matter how many times you blatantly tell her that you're not interested.

she revels in the other creatures’ jealousy and hatred of her. she knows the others only think of her as a dirty harlot, ruining the valiant image of their ruler. but she couldn't care less about what others think. she barely even cares what you think. she knows what she wants, and nobody will stop her from getting it. not even you.

THE FAIRY is the most envious of them all. fairies are known for being small and weak. he knew you weren't going to like him. that's why he desperately tried to get your approval the moment he met you. he always leaves you small gifts and watches from afar as you collect them, hoping that it'll be something that you enjoy. he knows that pixies are generally the ones that leave small gifts, but he had to find some way to gain your favor. he's only 6 inches tall and could easily be stomped on by the other creatures. so that means he isn't strong, or incredibly intelligent, or immortal. he has nothing going for him compared to the others, so all he can do is be as kind as possible to you.

deep down, he's aware that he doesn't stand a chance. but he keeps trying. he knows he loves you more than any of the other creatures can say. he would be kind to you. he would follow your every command. he would do whatever you want him to do. he just wants you. it doesn't matter how you treat him or what you do to him. sure, if you hurt him, he won't be very happy about it, but he'll still be grateful that you even looked his way and gave him a chance.

he's usually very friendly and giving towards others, and especially to you, but behind closed doors, he's cruel towards those that you show love and affection to. he knows it's wrong. he knows you would probably be mad at him for his behavior. but he can't help it. everyone else is so much bigger and stronger than he is. deep down, he knows they could protect and take care of you better than he can. so, his inferiority complex shifts into anger that he takes out onto them. and if they happen to snitch on him, he'll just start fake crying. you'd comfort him and tell him everything's okay, because you trust him! he's the one that is so small, gentle, and always gifts you, so he'd never do anything wrong...

THE VAMPIRE has a strategy to winning you over. she's one of the eldest, most intelligent and calculated creatures in the village. over the course of the couple thousand years that she's been alive, she never had any romantic interest in anyone until she met you. you changed something in her. she's always been very formal, and polite, but you awoke something new in her. something... possessive and perhaps even controlling. after meeting you, she suddenly had the urge to take care of you. as she unfortunately cannot be in the sun, so she watches you from afar. follows you from a distance, making sure you are safe. she's ready to step in as soon as she needs to, in order to protect you.

she's more likely to take a friendlier, respectful approach compared to others. unlike the vulgar harpy, or the overly submissive fairy, she's more formal and respects your authority as their leader. every night, she walks around your house and if you happen to come out, she pretends she was "on her way home" and says that it "would be a lovely time to go for a walk" and you assume she was telling the truth.

the best part about having a plan such as hers, is that the other creatures have no idea that she's interested in you. they go to her for advice and try to ask for her help in courting you. they trust her, not knowing she'll ruin them once she knows their plans in wooing you. and they'll never know that it was her, because she's the beautiful older woman in the village that has never caused any problems! everyone loves her. and soon, you will too.

she's patient. everyone else is in such a rush to make you theirs immediately, but she knows you're worth waiting for. she knows that in the end, she'll come out on top, and you'll be hers. all she must do is wait.

THE ELF is one of the shyest. she's looked down upon in the village for being too timid and messy. with frizzy hair, pointy ears, and a dreadful fashion sense, she stays in her dingy little shack in the woods, crafting weapons and houseware to sell to the villagers. every month, she begrudgingly makes her visit to the village's market to display and sell her things, then go straight back home. she dreads seeing others, feeling safe only in the solitude of the quiet woods.

she always knew of a human monarch ruling over the land, but she didn't bother investigating for herself. she wanted to just make and sell her goods, then lurk in the outskirts of the village in peace. but one day, you just happened to be at her usual selling place.

she dropped all her items in a few baskets, standing by ready to give them away. that's when you approached, offering a generous sum of money to purchase items that were rumored to "be of high quality" from the other villagers. the second she saw you, her heart almost stopped. she knew the monarch was supposed to be beautiful, but she wasn't aware you were going to look that good. she quickly and awkwardly wrapped the items in leaves, handing them to you and feeling her heart skip a beat when your fingers brushed against hers. she thanked you, bowing her head so you wouldn't see how red her pale skin became. you simply walked away without saying anything else.

she replayed that moment over and over again in her head on her journey back home. should she have said something else? should she have refused your money or given you more items? should she have wrapped your items in something fancier than random leaves she picked from the forest? god, you probably think she's a loser now. you probably dislike her just as much as everyone else does. she maybe even offended you, because she didn't recognize you at first.

she spent that whole night rethinking her entire life choices. and the night after that. and the night after that. and that whole week. and the next week. then the next. until it was time to sell her things again. this time, she would be prepared for your arrival.

she spent that month lurking around the village, overhearing the things people said about you. she never knew there was so much competition to win your heart! she'd definitely have to study your interests to win you over.

every day, she peeked into your castle and carefully inspected your bedroom. she studied your clothes, hair, accessories, decorations, and more. she took note of it all, storing it in her memory to use later in order to impress you and show that she would be the best candidate for your affections.

when the day came for her to publicly return to the village, she made sure her hair was nicely put together, instead of the usual frizzy look. she made sure her clothes weren't so tattered and dirty, and she was wearing your favorite color. she made sure her goods were clean and wrapped nicely in cloth that she sewed herself, based on the designs on your castle's carpet.

she waited and waited. the usual customers came by, surprised that she seemed more put together-- but she didn't spare them a single glance. she was just looking for you. where were you? did you not like her goods? or maybe her initial thoughts were correct: her first impression was so terrible that you hate her, and you'll never see her again.

it was late at night, way past her curfew. she was packing her things ready to return home and cry herself to sleep after you didn't show up. until she finally spotted you in the distance, walking next to the vampire lady.

she felt her face go red in embarrassment. what was she even thinking? of course you're into someone else. she spent an entire month obsessing over you to the point where she mended her appearance to impress you and maybe get you to spend more time with her. but it was all for naught, wasn't it?

but maybe... she can keep trying. she put in so much effort. she tried so hard to EARN your approval, instead of trying to seduce you like that old ass vampire. she's never felt this way for anyone before. she hates everyone else. she hates talking to people, spending time with people. they've never liked her anyway. but you didn't hate her. you just purchased her goods with an incredible amount of money and never insulted her or raised a single finger on her. she'll never forget that. she'll always be grateful for that. in return, she'll make herself better for you. she'll change, and you'll be nice to her again... maybe even love her just as much as she loves you... right?

THE MERMAN is one of the cutest, yet the most codependent and manipulative of them all. he's just a defenseless merman; he can't go on land! you'll have to visit him every day and talk to him, or else he'll go mad. you can't leave him alone for a single day, because he has no other friends. that would be so rude of you.

every day, he sits and waits for you, posing prettily on the biggest rock on the beach. if anyone were to flirt or try to talk to him, he'd usually roll his eyes and swim away. he has a bit of a reputation for being the most handsome creature out of everyone else in the village. but no matter how many villagers attempt to charm him, none of them have ever caught his eye. in fact, they often leave the beach crying in despair after he rejects them with no remorse or kindness. he'll insult them and bluntly tell them he would never be interested in them.

because you're the only one he wants.

he sees your riches. your beauty. your power and intelligence. he's attracted to all of it. he fantasizes every day about being with you. he knows that you're human and you can't be with him all day, but he can't bare being away from you for so long! he's tried multiple times to crawl on land, but he just can't do it without fainting and being carried back to the sea by one of his fellow merfolk.

he begs you to spend as much time as you can with him. he is overjoyed the moment he sees you walking towards his spot at the beach. he starts squealing and splashing around, doing a few tricks to impress you. he immediately starts bombarding you with questions, asking how you are and what you're doing later, subtly wrapping his tail around your arm so you can't walk away. he talks to you nonstop, trying to make you stay. he knows you are royalty, and you have your duties, but they can't be more important than him.

every time you even hint at leaving, he starts getting emotional. what do you mean you're leaving soon? don't you know what you mean to him? you know you're his only connection to the outside world and the land. you're one of his only friends. you can't just leave him. don't you know how much he cares about you? don't you know how many people he's rejected for you? don't you know how many hours he spent combing through his hair with a fork he found lying washed up on the sand? don't you know how many hours he spent trying to polish his scales, making them shinier to catch your eye? he tried so hard to look all pretty for you, and now you're just going to leave?

wait, you'll come back tomorrow? oh, okay. well, why didn't you just say that sooner? just don't keep him waiting too long. even though you're leaving, he'll stay lying on his rock, staring at your castle with a longing look in his teary eyes, waiting for your return.

[mercvry-glow]

all that gleams (18+)

parings. jack abbot x nurse!reader

summary. everyone seems to be hitting on you tonight, and your husband doesn't seem to appreciate all of the attention you're getting.

warnings. this is 18+ so mdni, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough/jealousy sex, half plot/half porn, sex in the work place, hospital setting, age gap (jack late 40s, reader late 20s to early 30s), reader gets hit on by men who are not jack, non-consensual touching (patient grabs reader), reader has hair, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. where the fuck do I even begin? uhhhh- so many people asked for a sequel to all that glitters and I never thought I'd actually do it but here we are! I absolutely live for their dynamic, and they're softcore rich which is truly the dream. I'm actually really proud of this, especially bc this is my second time writing any form of smut! as always any and all feedback is appreciated and please enjoy!

wc. 4700+

all that glitters

There wasn’t a person in your life who hadn’t told you getting married so young was a mistake. A newly minted nurse with a shiny new degree, a big diamond ring, and a big house in the nicest part of town—people loved to talk. And they did, especially behind your back.

“Too fast,” they said

“Too young.”

 “She doesn’t know what she’s getting into.”

But they didn’t know Jack.

He’d been your constant through it all. Through the twelve-hour shifts, the night terrors you both had but didn’t always talk about, the tangled mess of silky bed sheets and plain coffee mornings. He never missed a beat, not with you. He always made sure the front door was locked, that you didn’t forget to eat, that you never had to face a bad day completely alone.

Jack Abbot was your storm and shelter all at once.

Still, some days it felt like you were speaking two different languages. You’d grown up with champagne brunches, sorority sisters, and an Ivy League education on Daddy’s dime. Jack grew up fast though—boots on the ground, blood on his hands, and scars no one could see unless he let them. 

His world had edges, and darkness only he could understand. 

Yours had comfy throw pillows and a walk-in closet.

Falling for each other had been a whirlwind, but staying in love… that took work. 

Especially now.

Lately, every conversation felt like walking on eggshells. He was short with you. Distant. And maybe you were a little more sensitive than usual—he always said you felt deeply, cared too much. Maybe you did miss the way he used to look at you, touch you, talk to you like you were the only person in the room.

Now? Now he was somewhere else—lost in his head, behind some wall you couldn’t climb no matter how hard you tried.

And you still tried.

 You showed up to work, same time as him, hair curled, and lip gloss on as usual. Your scrubs were still fitted just right, your badge reel sparkled, and your sneakers matched your pastel compression socks of the day. You were tired, overworked, and emotionally frayed—but damn it, you still tried, for yourself, for him, and most certainly for your patients .

He didn’t even say “Hi,” when you checked in.

Just a curt nod, eyes already scanning a trauma sheet.

Fine. You had a job to do anyway.

The ER was chaotic, as usual. You floated between rooms, upbeat as always, soft-voiced with your patients, making the new interns laugh with your sparkly pens and habit of humming softly under your breath.

That’s when he showed up.

Leo, tall, handsome in a sun-kissed, ex-lifeguard in the Baywatch kind of way, and new. The latest temp nurse from another hospital, and definitely not shy.

“You always this put-together at 7 p.m.?” he said, grinning as he helped you restock the IV cart.

You glanced up from your clipboard, smiling just enough. “Only when there’s new employees to impress.”

He laughed, nudging your elbow. “Well, consider me thoroughly impressed.”

Across the hall, you didn’t see Jack. But he was seeing everything.

You caught a flash of movement in your peripheral vision—him, leaning against the med station, pretending to read a chart. The way his jaw clenched was less than subtle. So was the way he suddenly had something urgent to discuss with Dr. Reese, right behind where you were standing.

You didn’t react. Just went back to scanning meds, asking Leo if he needed help finding anything on his first night. You were being polite. Friendly. Maybe a little intentionally oblivious—but only because it felt good to be noticed by anyone today.

Jack didn’t say a word.

But every time you turned around, he was there. Close. Watching.

He didn’t like it. You could feel it.

And for the first time in weeks, you felt something that wasn’t just disappointment.

You felt giddy.

You weren’t trying to make him jealous.

But if he was suddenly remembering the woman he married? The one who lit up a room? The one who still wore t-shirts to bed and nothing else, even when he acted like he didn’t care?

Good.

Let him remember.

The next few hours passed in a blur of motion and monitors—IVs, trauma alerts, vitals to chart and families to console. You stayed busy, focused, but not so focused you didn’t notice the way Jack kept drifting into your orbit.

Not close enough to talk.

Just… there.

Lingering near the nurse’s station when you laughed at something Leo said. Answering the trauma bay calls himself when you usually did first. A silent presence, watching without watching, always just a little too close not to be intentional.

There had been so much to do between learning about coworkers drama, taking care of patients, and dealing with incoming traumas that you’d been on your feet for almost seven hours straight before getting any sort of break.

Still not having found the right time to touch the overnight oats in your lunchbox.

Typical.

You finally ducked into the break room around 2:30 a.m., practically vibrating from a bit too much caffeine and sheer stubbornness. Your sneakers squeaked on the tile as you opened your lunch tote, pulling out your jar with a satisfied “Aha”. You gave it a little shake and popped the lid, the faint scent of almond butter and cinnamon curling into the air.

Leo was already in there, lounging in the corner with a Coke Zero and half a sandwich he didn’t seem particularly interested in eating.

“That looks suspiciously healthy,” he said, eyeing your jar like it confused him.

You grinned. “It’s delicious. Cinnamon, chia seeds, oat milk, with a little bit of honey and almond butter. You should try it sometime—maybe it will lower your blood pressure.”

Leo let out a low whistle. “Oof. She’s cute and judgmental.”

You wiggled your spoon at him. “I’m not judgmental. I’m just stating a fact,”

“Same difference,”

You laughed, shaking your head as you settled on the couch. Your big water tumbler clinked softly on the table as you set it down. Leo glanced at it.

“Okay, real talk. How many cups do you own?”

“Oh at least ten,” you said proudly. “And yes, they all match my scrubs and socks.”

He chuckled. “Of course they do.”

You were in the middle of telling him about your latest homemade electrolyte concoction—something with sea salt, lemon, and maple syrup—when the door creaked open.

Jack stepped inside, silent as ever. No one noticed at first, but you felt him before you saw him. That familiar pull.

You looked up and smiled, just a little.

He didn’t smile back.

He walked to the cabinet, pulled out a pod of instant coffee, and started making the world’s saddest cup of caffeine.

“You good?” you asked, casually, spoon still dangling from your mouth.

Jack shrugged. “Fine.”

Leo gave him a nod. “Rough night, man?”

“Same as every night,” Jack said coolly.

There was a pause.

You went back to your oats.

Leo leaned over slightly, stage-whispering, “Is it true you color-code your vitamins?”

You lit up. “Oh my god, yes! You have to! It’s so satisfying.”

Jack let out a breath—not quite a sigh. Not quite anything.

Just something.

Leo turned to him. “She’s kind of a fairy, huh? Healthy, pretty, and scary organized.”

Jack didn’t answer. Just stirred his coffee with the kind of force that made the spoon clink too loudly against the mug.

“I mean, who even makes time for meal prep on night shift?” Leo kept going, still playful, still oblivious. “She comes in glowing while I’m running on vending machine Pop-Tarts and anxiety.”

You grinned again. “You say that like Pop-Tarts are bad.”

Jack finally looked up. Right at you.

“I liked you better when you were sneaking granola bars from my locker.”

Your breath caught a little—not because it was mean. But because it sounded like a memory.

You raised a brow. “You never let me finish the boxes.”

Jack’s gaze didn’t move.

“Maybe I liked the distraction.”

The room went quiet again.

Leo cleared his throat and stood. “Okay, I’m gonna grab another Coke. You two want anything?”

“No,” Jack said, a little too quickly.

You shook your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

When Leo left, the silence stretched.

You scooped another spoonful of oats, pretending not to feel the weight of Jack’s stare.

“You didn’t answer my text,” he said finally.

You blinked. “Which one?”

“The one about locking the side door this morning.”

“Oh.” You smiled faintly. “Sorry, I was halfway through meal prepping for us and my mom called... You know how she gets.”

Jack nodded, jaw tight. “You’re supposed to text me back.”

You raised a brow again, but this time softer. “Jack. It was about a door.”

“It was about you being safe.”

That landed somewhere in your chest.

You didn’t say anything for a second. Just set your spoon down and leaned back into the couch.

“I was fine,” you said gently. “I promise.”

Jack didn’t reply. But he reached for your cup, unscrewed the lid, and took a sip (not using the straw) like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You stared. “That has lemon in it.”

He grimaced. “Tastes like a scented candle.”

You laughed.

He didn’t.

But the corners of his mouth twitched—just a little.

He set your water with a quiet thud, the lid clicking into place like it was holding something back for him, too.

You tilted your head, watching him in that way you always did when you were trying to read what was going on behind those stormy, hazel eyes. “You're drinking lemon water,” you said, voice lilting. “Should I be worried?”

Jack didn’t look at you. “I was thirsty.”

You smiled. “And yet the entire fridge full of bottled water didn’t do it for you?”

He shrugged.

“Grumpy,” you said under your breath, just loud enough.

His eyes finally flicked to yours. “I’m not grumpy.”

“You kind of are.”

“I’m tired.”

“You always say that when you’re being grumpy.”

Jack gave you a slow look—flat, dry, and just a little amused. “You finished?”

“Not even close,” you said sweetly, your elbow propped on the arm of the couch. “You’re cranky, you’re overcaffeinated, and you get weirdly possessive whenever someone’s nice to me.”

That got his attention.

“I’m not possessive,” he said.

You smirked. “Jack, you nearly snapped Leo’s neck when he said I had good handwriting.”

“That’s not what he said, and you know that.”

You blinked, then laughed. “Okay, fine. ‘Prettiest charting I’ve ever seen,’ and he winked. So what?”

Jack’s jaw tightened—just slightly.

You stood, stretching your arms overhead in a way that made your scrub top ride up just a little. His eyes tracked the motion like muscle memory.

You stepped closer, toes nearly brushing his boots. “I like that you care about this,” you said, softer now. “It’s kind of hot, actually.”

He looked at you—really looked at you—for the first time all night.

“You drive me crazy, kid.” he muttered.

You beamed. “So you are jealous.”

Jack sighed through his nose, the tension melting from his shoulders like an exhale he’d been holding in too long. His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering a second too long.

“I know you’re mine,” he said quietly. “I just… sometimes I forget the rest of the world doesn’t always know it.”

Your chest tightened. Not in a painful way. In a finally, you’re here with me again kind of way.

You reached for his hand and squeezed. “Well, they do. But if you ever forget again, I’ll tattoo your name on my ass”

That earned you a snort—low and surprised.

“I’m serious,” you teased, squeezing his fingers. “Right across my cheeks. Property of Jack Abbot. Think it’d go with my Bikinis when I start tanning again?”

His lips twitched. “You’re insane.”

“Mm. And you’re stuck with me.”

“I know,” he murmured, voice quieter now, as he dipped down for a soft kiss,  “Wouldn’t change it.”

And there it was.

The part of him no one else got to see—the softness under all that armor he put up. The way he looked at you like you were the only thing in this chaotic, blood-slicked hospital worth holding onto.

Before you could say anything else, the overhead crackled to life:

“Trauma en route. ETA four minutes. MVA, two patients. GSW secondary.”

Jack’s head lifted, all instinct now. You were already moving toward the door when his hand caught yours.

He didn’t pull, didn’t squeeze—just held.

“Be careful,” he said.

You leaned in again, kissing his cheek, quick and certain. “Always.”

Then the moment passed, and the hallway swallowed you both—he leading, you following, hearts synced in the rhythm of the ER. But his hand brushed yours again as you walked.

The trauma had come in hard and fast—twisted metal, broken glass, and enough blood to soak through your shoes. Jack had been in the thick of it, barking orders, steady hands moving like muscle memory while you worked across from him, suctioning, suturing, stabilizing. For a while, there was no room for anything else. No talking. No teasing. Just the two of you, back in sync, locked in the rhythm you knew so well. It was easy to forget the cracks when the adrenaline kicked in.

But by 4:15 a.m., the ER had slowed to a lull.

The kind that was never quiet, but at least breathable.

You’d just finished helping a resident clean up trauma one when they wheeled in another patient—mid-40s, minor head lac, walking wounded and very, very drunk.

You smiled politely, grabbing a suture kit.

“Alright, sir. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Can you sit still for me?”

He gave you a once-over that made your skin crawl. “Sure thing, sweetheart. For you, I’ll be real good.”

You kept it professional. “Thank you.”

But the longer you worked, the bolder he got.

“You married?” he slurred.

You didn’t answer.

“Bet your husband’s not half as pretty as you.”

You offered a tight smile. “Try to stay still. This part stings a little.”

He didn’t even flinch. “You ever date older guys? I got a boat, you know.”

You glanced around the bay, but the resident was long gone, charting somewhere out of earshot.

“I’m flattered, really, but I already have a boat,” you said lightly, finishing the last stitch. “And you’re gonna feel real silly about this in the morning.”

He grinned, crooked and gross. “Not if you give me your number.”

And then he reached out—his hands brushing your hips in a way that was not accidental.

You stepped back instantly, heart thudding.

“That’s enough sir,” you said sharply, your voice still steady, still calm—but colder now. “I’m going to step out for a minute, since I’ve finished. Someone else will check on you soon.”

You didn’t wait for a reply.

You slipped into the furthest supply closet you could easily find and leaned against the shelves, chest rising and falling like you’d just run a sprint. Your hands were shaking—more with anger than fear—but still. It clung to your skin.

The door creaked open a minute later.

“Hey.”

Jack.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, gaze scanning your face. “One of the other nurses said he got grabby.”

You looked up at him, throat tight. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t answer that right away. Just moved closer and touched your cheek, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth like he needed to ground himself.

“You sure?” he asked, quieter now.

You nodded. “Just… gross. Not the first, won’t be the last.”

His jaw flexed. “It shouldn’t be happening at all.”

You leaned into his hand. “It’s okay. I handled it.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle it.”

You looked up at him. “Jack—”

He stepped closer, and suddenly his body was pressed against yours, warm and solid and steady. His hands found your waist, rough fingers curling around your hips.

“I should be the only one touching you,” he said, voice low.

“We’ll get written up…”

“I don’t care.”

But Jack wasn’t hearing logic right now. He was standing there like he could still smell every guy you had met tonight on you, like the air hadn’t cleared yet.

“Hey.” You placed your hands on his chest, grounding him. “We don’t have to do this here…”

His hands squeezed your waist. “You’re mine.”

“I know.”

“You don’t flirt like that with anyone else, right?”

You blinked, caught off-guard. “Flirt like what?”

“Like you did with that prick.”

You frowned a abit. “I was being nice. He asked if I wanted  something from the vending machine- he asked you too and you looked at him like he offered me lingerie.”

Jack didn’t budge. His grip didn’t loosen.

You tried again. Softer this time.

“I steal your clothes. I come home to you. I wear the ring you bought me, and I’m your wife. I chose you.”

His eyes searched yours—tired, and heavy, with a mix of something else.

You rose on your toes, placing your lips to the corner of his mouth. “I’m yours, Jack.”

And then his arms were around you fully, pulling you in like he needed to feel your heartbeat to believe it. Your heart thudded in your chest, a beat behind your breath. You looked at him, eyes narrowed, lips parted.

You didn’t hear him lock the door.

You felt it.

That soft, decisive click behind you—like a promise.

“Did you just lock the door?”

Jack’s answer was a look—slow, hot, and so heavy it pinned you in place. He stepped with the kind of precision that said this wasn’t spontaneous. No, he’d decided the second he saw you walk into the closet room, cheeks flushed, lip gloss smudged, tensions high. 

The second all these guys started paying attention to you tonight. 

Jack hadn’t liked that.

He tried to be quiet about it, like always. Quiet the way a storm is—only right before it breaks.

He stopped just barely inches from you, hand coming up to trace a line along your jaw. His fingers were thick, rough, warm, familiar. His touch didn’t ask permission. It remembered.

“You keep smiling like that,” he said low, his voice a gravel-coated whisper, “and I’ll have to fuck the memory of it out of you.”

Your breath caught—somewhere between outrage and arousal. “Jack—”

But you didn’t get the rest out.

He kissed you.

Not sweet. Not careful.

Claiming.

His hands tangled in your hair, dragging you into him like it was instinct, like your mouth had always belonged to his. You melted into him, your body curving against his like you were built for this—built for him. His hips pressed forward, pinning you to the wall of the storage closet, and your head thudded back softly against the cool plaster as his lips slid down to your throat, sucking, biting just enough to make you gasp.

“Locked the door for a reason,” he murmured, tongue flicking against the skin where your pulse fluttered. “Tired of pretending I didn’t want you every second we’re here.”

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers gripping his shirt like lifelines. “You’re sooo jealous.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, dark eyes devouring. “Damn right I’m jealous.”

His hand slid under your scrub top, skimming up your ribs, palm flat, hot and possessive. “You’re mine—I can’t fucking stand it when they look at you like you’re not.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” you whispered, breathless, lips grazing his.

His answer was a growl.

Jack spun you, quick and controlled, pressing you front-first against the shelves. Supplies rattled, somewhere above you—gloves, gauze, sterile wraps—but it was the sound of his breath at your neck that made your knees threaten to buckle.

His hands roamed—under your shirt to your tits, over the waistband of your scrub pants, every inch of bare skin he found earning a new kind of heat.

“You wanna be flirted with?” he whispered, voice dragging down your spine. “Fine. But I get to remind you who makes you cum”

You gasped as his mouth met the base of your neck, teeth grazing, tongue following. “Jack…”

“You knew,” he said again, almost reverent now. 

And god help you, you did.

Because you’d walked in here to take a second, needing this—needing him. Not just his hands or his mouth or the way he made you come apart so effortlessly, but this claiming. This reminder. That under all the stress, the silence, the long nights and missed moments—the fire still burned. Hot. Unrelenting.

His fingers slipped lower, teasing the waist of your scrub pants, and you pressed back against him without thinking, needing more, needing everything.

“You’re mine,” he murmured again, lips brushing your shoulder, low and slow. “Say it.”

You turned your head just enough to whisper, “I’m yours, Jack. Always.”

And that was all it took.

He kept you facing the shelves, a hand coming down to your hips to steady you as he continued to feel you up with the other. “Yeah? You gonna be my good girl, sweetheart?” 

The whimper you let out was pathetic. A low pitched sound that came from the back of your throat, as Jack started to flood your senses. He gave your ass a quick, hard, smack. Hand going back to rub over the spot, as it snapped you out of your daze. “I asked you a question, baby.” 

You nodded, desperately. Already whoozy from the assault on your sense that your husband brought on. “Mhm! Jack-”

He shushed you, gently pushing down your scrub pants, “Gotta make this quick and quiet, or they’ll all know what a bad girl you’ve been.” 

Reaching back, you straightend up leaning into his burning touch, wanting him closer than he already was. You could feel how hard he was beneath his cargos, half chubbed as he ground his hips into your panty-clad ass. 

You would’ve felt embarressed if this hadn’t felt so right. 

Clothes barely off, lazily grinding against your husband in a closet like you’re back in some college frat house at UPenn. 

Jack doesn’t waste anymore time though, hastily shoving your panties down, rough fingers making quick work of finding your swollen clit. The tight circles he does against you, make you feel dizzy—legs already beginning to shake, as if you haven’t been working for ten hours already. 

Your moans are muffled by your arm as you lean further into the shelves, but press your hips back toward Jack. Your resolve slowly slipping, as he dips a finger in your wet heat. 

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” he groans out softly, continuing as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

Then he just pulls away.

Not entirely, still so close that you’ve basically become one. It’s enough for you to whine at the loss of contact, pushing back into him hoping he’ll start again. 

“Why’d you stop?” Jack can practically hear the pout in your voice. The breathy little lilt of displeasure showing in your tone. 

“Sorry, baby. We only have time for one thing, and I’d much rather make you cum on my cock.” He kisses the back of your neck, gentle and loving as ever as he reaches down to free himself from his scrub pants. 

He’s aching, he’s so hard. 

He takes a few deep breaths before haphazrdly stroking himself. Fisting his cock in his meaty hand, already slick after playing with your wet little cunt. 

Jack wasn’t going to make love to you. 

He was going to fuck you like you needed it. 

Lining himself up, Jack pushed in with a solid thrust of his sturdy hips. You just about collapsed into the shelves, already feeling so full of Jack as he started a steady rhythm. It was overwhelming, one of his hands tight against your hips as he used it to guide you into his thrusts, the other snaked over your mouth to muffle your breathy moans because the hallway was just beyond the locked closet door.

“Shit- you’re so fucking tight, baby.” you cleched against him as he drove himself further into you, trying to angle himself to hit the spot that would have you seeing stars in no time. 

Your walls hugged him tight, leaving him a mess as he watched himself slip in and out of you in a trance like state. 

“Fuck Jack-” you start mewling, hips pushing and grinding to meet his thrusts. “Ah- ah, you’re so deep.” 

He mumbles something incoherent against your shoulder, both of his hands moving to your hips and ass to get more leverage to fuck you nice and hard. 

You can tell you’re making a mess of yourself, panties clearly ruined with how you’re leaking down your thighs and his cock. Each thrust is a new shockwave of pleasure you don’t expect, but Jack doesn’t let up and you don’t want him to. 

“Too m-much,” his cock throbs, hard and heavy inside you as he stills for just a second. 

“Yeah? It’s too much for you, Sweetheart?” It’s almost mocking as he draws it out into longer deeper strokes—the ones that make it hard to breathe, the air escaping your lungs faster than you can take the chance to gasp for air. 

“You’re just so big,” you whimper out, trying to keep yourself from collapsing back against him as your legs start to feel like jello. 

Jack gives you a light scoff, “Good thing you’re being a good girl, and takin’ me so well, huh?” He keeps the pace steady, if not a bit quicker. Switching up the tempo to keep you on your toes and eager for him. 

“Mhm!” You can feel your orgasm building, that all too familiar pressure in your lower tummy bubbling over. “Fuck- fuck I’m gonna cum-”

It’s like a switch flips in his brain, kicking him into high gear as he spins you around to face him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close as he lifts one of your legs around his waist. 

“Yeah, pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?” He asks you through a sloppy kiss, one that smears what’s left of your lip gloss. 

You feel like you’re about to implode, too tense and too loose all at once. Your hands find purchase on his clothed chest and the curls at the base of his neck, as he continues his loving assault on your body and senses. Jack is everywhere, and you’d never want it to be different. 

He watches as you finally let go, shivering your way through your orgasm as you cum on his thick cock. Your breath catches as he kisses you slowly, working his cock in and out of your gushing pussy still chasing his own release. 

“Fuck- you ruin me baby,” He groans into your kiss swollen lips, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before burying himself as deep as possible. His own breathing shallow as he spills his load deep into your cunt, right where it belongs. 

Blinking slowly, you return to your body. Jack looks down at you, capturing your lips in one last sweet kiss as he gently pulls out of you. Your body shudders at the now empty feeling, “You with me, Baby?”

His thumbs stroke your cheeks, gentle and loving as you just stare at him a little dazed. You manage a soft hum, and he begins the process of putting you back together for the public. 

You cringed a bit as he helped you pull the pants of your scrubs back up, at least they were dark… right? You’d change into your backups as soon as you found the courge to leave the storage room. Then there was your hair which Jack lovingly braided as quickly as he could, before fixing himself the best he could

“Everyone’s totally gonna know… Ugh…”  you leaned your head against his chest, sighing at the thought of John or Ellis questioning where you two were for the past 15 minutes. 

“You look fine, besides who cares?” He questioned, “Do you know how many times I’ve heard the same story from other departments,” 

“Yeah but this is us,” you gave him a deadpan expression, as he reached behind you so that he could grab your stethoscope and badge reel from one of the many shelves behind you. 

He gave you a nonchalant shrug, and one last kiss on the forehead. “You ready to go get ‘em tiger?”

“You’re so dead whe we get home, it’s not even funny Jack Abbot!” 

“We still have about two more hours, so I think I’m safe, Princess.” 

mercvry-glow 2025

[seumyo]

yearning drunk!husband ushijima wakatoshi.

NOTE. contains a bit of alcohol content—though nothing too explicit or anything concerning <33

It always started the same way—kind of like an inside joke that grew wings, feathers, a tab, and Ushijima’s name on the reservation list.

Ushijima never initiated going out drinking with his Schweiden Adlers teammates. In fact, he rarely said anything about it at all. It was always someone else who mentioned it after a game. Always someone else who slung an arm over his shoulder and declared, “C’mon, Ushiwaka, we have to celebrate,” even though Ushijima had never once expressed interest in alcohol, bar food, or drunken conversations.

Still, he always went.

Because it’d be rude if he didn’t at least stay for a few minutes, he thinks.

Sometimes he showed up in his team windbreaker, sometimes in a long, dark gray coat that made him look like a trench-wearing monument of silence. And he never said no, even when the clamor of celebration was already grating at the edges of his patience.

Tonight was one of those nights.

They’d won by the skin of their teeth—an overtime set against a grueling opponent, the kind of match that made even the benchwarmers feel like champions by the end. So of course Heiwajima had started the round-up in the locker room. Hoshiumi had shouted over everyone about their lucky bar down the street, and within twenty minutes, the entire team had found themselves in their regular private suite.

Ushijima sat at the end of the table, his back straight, a glass in front of him filled with alcohol he didn’t particularly like. His teammates were loud and loose and chaotic—laughing at Sokolov trying to arm-wrestle the bar’s bouncer, clapping every time someone dropped a fork, and yelling across the table in at least three different languages.

“A thousand yen says he’ll ask about his wife in twenty minutes,” Hoshiumi said quietly, leaning toward their captain, Hirugami Fukurou.

“You’re giving him way too much credit,” Romero replied, fondly grinning. “He gets wistful around minute twelve.”

“He gets wistful the moment he sits down.”

Ushijima was unmoved. He stared at his drink, took a single sip, and let it rest in his hand. He didn’t participate in the yelling, the toasts, or the story someone was animatedly telling about a missed serve from three seasons ago. He just existed—quietly, stoically—as a satellite to the chaos.

Except, of course, they all knew he was waiting.

He always was.

There was a pattern to the transformation. First, he’d sit there like stone. Then he’d blink a little more slowly. His brows would draw together—not in anger, but in vague confusion, like he was lost in a thought he couldn’t solve. His fingers would move against his glass, not to drink but to fidget, just a little.

And then…

“Has anyone seen my phone?” Ushijima asked, barely louder than the buzz of conversation.

Hoshiumi slid it across the table immediately. “Right here, Ushiwaka. Sorry! We took a few pictures here and there.”

“Thank you.”

He looked down at the screen. It was still lit with the last message from you from earlier that day: Good luck, baby. Don’t forget to stretch your left shoulder. He’d never replied—he never did, not when he was already in headspace—but now, he stared at it like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

“You want to text her?” Hoshiumi asks, lightly teasing, which Ushijima didn’t catch onto.

Ushijima didn’t answer. He opened the thread and typed a few letters. Deleted them. Typed something else. Backspaced. Then just stared.

And then finally: “She hasn’t replied.”

His teammates laughed.

“There it is!”

“It’s only been seventeen minutes! I win!”

“No, you cheated. I said ten, and he didn’t even check his phone until minute twelve!”

“Shh, shh, look at him—he’s pouting.”

“Wait, is this the pout phase? I thought that came after the silent brooding phase.”

“Technically we’re entering pout-brood overlap. It’s a dangerous time.”

Ushijima didn’t argue. He simply set the phone down again and folded his hands in front of him. Kageyama leaned over.

“You want me to call her for you, Ushijima-san?”

Ah, yes. Kageyama was too nice for his own good. Trying to enhance his socialization and trying to lessen his awkwardness with his teammates when the conversation didn’t revolve around volleyball.

Ushijima nodded. Just once. Immediately. “Yes.”

...

“Amazing! He’s not even trying to hide it.”

“Can you imagine being that in love?”

“He just wants his wife. Look at him. He’s a whole sad poem in one sitting.”

“She’s gonna get here, and he’s gonna light up like a lantern.”

“May this love run me over.”

Kageyama stood and walked a few paces away from the table, already dialing your number. Meanwhile, the others watched Ushijima sip his drink again—not because he wanted it, but because it gave his hands something to do. His eyes were glued to the screen even though no new notifications had appeared.

Romero leaned in conspiratorially to Hirugami. “Do you think she talks to him in, like, soft tones? Calls him ‘baby’ and stuff?”

“I think so,” he shrugs. “I think they’re sweet like that.”

“Aw, young love.”

The teasing continued, but it softened. Because underneath the jokes and the laughs was a sort of awe.

Their teammate—so serious, so focused, so unreadable on court—was completely and utterly soft when it came to his wife. Not in a loud way. Not in any way that could be easily teased, really. It was quiet. Heavy. Real.

When Kageyama returned, he had a pleased expression. “She’s on her way. Said she just got off work and is driving over.”

Ushijima gave another slow blink.

“Thank you.”

Kageyama nods. Somehow they manage to have conversations even if they just continue nodding to each other.

As soon as Kageyama said it, his phone buzzed with a new message. He didn’t even need to open it. He could tell by the way his entire body relaxed by a single, barely noticeable degree.

Sorry, hun. Just got off work. Are you okay?

He replied.

I’m okay. I miss you.

And then he set the phone down and folded his hands again, this time with more calm. More certainty. You were coming. That was all he needed to know.

The others noticed the shift immediately.

“He smiled.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“He did! Don’t argue with me; I saw it. It was micro. But it counted.”

“He’s already halfway out the door with his heart.”

“Watch, the second she walks through that door, he’ll go full puppy mode.”

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, the door opened. A gust of cold air followed you inside, along with the soft jingle of the bar’s entrance bell. You spotted them easily—your eyes landing on Ushijima before anything else. And his entire body seemed to change shape.

He stood up—not quickly, but instantly, with a kind of gravity no one else in the room had.

You smiled as you approached, slipping out of your coat and brushing off the cold that nipped your nose softly. “Hi, love,” you greeted softly. “You ready to go?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said, already reaching for his jacket.

As he shrugged it on, you turned to the table. “Hope he wasn’t too much trouble?”

Hoshiumi leaned on the table with a grin. “[Name], your husband is the definition of ‘not trouble.’ We’re just grateful you came to collect him before he sighed himself into the carpet.”

“Tell them what he said!” someone shouted.

“He asked if anyone had seen his phone like it was a national emergency.”

“And he didn’t pout—he brooded. Like a man out of a romantic novel.”

“I think I did,” Ushijima just nodded at their comments about him.

He then stood by quietly, waiting for you to finish your goodbyes. When you looped your arm through his, he leaned ever so slightly toward you.

As they left, Romero raised his glass.

“To [Name]’s husband,” he declared. The table cheered.

Outside, as you two walked toward the car, you glanced up at him, fingers tightening around his arm.

“You really okay?” you asked.

He hummed. Then, in that low, steady voice only you ever got to hear, it softened—

“I missed you,” he said again. “They were loud. I wanted to see you very much.”

You smiled and gave his arm a firm, loving squeeze. “Well. I’m here now.”

And... yeah.

That’s what he’s been wanting to hear all night.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: NSFW, dubcon, bathroom sex, bullying, overall just really filthy smut, virgin insert, virginity loss, somewhat dom reader, somewhat bully reader, somewhat yandere reader

♡ FEM reader

You look like one of those girls that never smiles. Like, if he were to take that empty seat next to you in the lecture hall, you’d scowl with stink eyes and then proceed to fully ignore him. Yeah, a real bitch. That's what you look like—scary. He bets all your socials are filled with the same picture—the same deadpanned pouty face over and over, every single one with hundreds of likes and comments saying “Wow, babe!” followed by a dozen emojis from besties and horny admirers. Selfies in the mirror, showing off skin in your tight tops and short skirts—similar to the outfit you’re wearing now. Captions saying, “You can look, but you could never touch.” Yeah, he bets you’re a real attention whore. And the worst part is that you’re not even overselling, either. You’re gorgeous—even with that sour look on your face, he’d pay cold, hard-earned cash in exchange for a pair of your worn panties.

Yeah, there’s no way he’d dare sit next to you. He’s already sweating bullets just thinking about it. Even though you’re one in a million similar girls who wouldn’t give him the time of day, he's still one in a million loser incels who would do anything for it. And that’s the cold reality.

Even if he’d like to get just a whiff of your sweet perfume, he can’t. The status quo forbids it. He’s afraid the jocks will smell fresh blood in the water the moment he does, then swarm him in a matter of seconds, circling before tearing him to shreds. They’d beat him to a pulp in the bathroom, smash his head in over the sink—piss in the toilet, then flush it down with his bloodied face—and he’d have to walk reeking of it all the way home.

So, no—he really can’t sit next to you. 

But no other seats are available, and the lecture is starting soon… 

Why did absolutely everyone decide to show up today?

Oh fuck it, this isn’t high school. College bullies surely don’t bother with petty cases like this, right? They’re all about their frat initiations and rivalries to have enough spare time to beat him up over improper seating. Oh, but what if you’re one of their girlfriends—you’ll tell on him, and then he’ll definitely be beaten up, maybe even killed.

No. He’s overthinking—like always. No one is that mean. If you don’t like him sitting there, you’ll just tell him. And he’ll move. No harm done. Right? He’s not sitting in the stairwell when there’s a perfectly good and empty seat right there, right? Is he?

Yes. Yes, he is. 

“Hey, if you’re looking for a seat, this one’s empty,” a sweet voice calls out over his inner monologue, making him clutch the strap of his bookbag tighter with a flinch of his entire rigid body—his eyes peeled as he looked around to try and find the source of the sound even though he knew where it had come from. It’s as if the possibility of your voice sounding like anything aside from a she-demon was out of the question. But no, it is you. 

But there’s no way you’re talking to him, so he looks around again—there must be someone else in need of the seat aside from him. But then, why are you looking right at him? Are you pulling some type of prank? Are you really that cruel? You’re probably filming him or something—live-streaming—the chat’s blaring with ew, what a creep and omg, uggo alert right about now. He should just go home before the jocks, along with the rest of the internet, can get him.

“Are you okay?” you ask—but no, he must be hearing you wrong—there’s just no way, even though you’re looking right at him. “I think it’s starting soon—you should probably sit.”

It’s as if his fight or flight response is broken because he does the exact opposite of either—as if on autopilot, sitting down in a rush against his better judgment.

The lecture starts shortly, solidifying his choice, but he can’t pay attention. No, he needs to keep his guard up. Any second now, someone’s going to do a drive-by and throw a milkshake at him or something vile of the like, and you’ll have filmed it all even though he can’t spot you holding a phone—and then the entire hall would burst into laughter at his expense.

“Pst—” A soft whisper comes from next to him, from between the gloss of your pretty lips. You smell like candy and fruit, and it makes his gut tighten—both from anxiety and something more shameful. “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a pen I could borrow? Mine’s all out’a ink.”

You give him an awkward smile, and he very nearly runs away. But no, he’s glued to the seat—with nervously wrecked hands shaking as he bends for his bag and unzips it, reaching for his pencil case painfully slow as if disarming some type of bomb. Redoing the same when he opens the case and rummages for a viable pen he could offer.

When he hands it to you, he’s almost sure you plan to stab him with it. But you do no such thing.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver!” You cheer instead, beaming with a much brighter smile than before. “I owe you!”

His ears ring with your praise. Blushing beat red as he rips away from your gaze—still unable to focus on what the professor is preaching—not when from out of the corner of his eye, he can see you sucking on his pen like a lollypop—or something else not so innocent.

Oh, he’d been so wrong.

So, so, so very wrong.

You do smile. You smile a lot, actually. You just have one of those faces that rests bitchy. But still, bubbly airhead or not, a girl like you still shouldn't be seen with a loser like him. It’s social suicide. And still, you’re on your knees before him in a dirty little bathroom stall—the same dirty bathroom stall he feared getting a swirlie, scraping the walls with his nails to try and thwart his assailants—only, now clutching the walls for a much different reason, holding on for his mortal soul as you seek to suck it out of his fat throbbing cock.

You want to repay him—you’d said—for the pencil. He hadn't understood why you’d winked at him before you’d all but dragged him off and flung him inside the men’s bathroom, having his very life flash before his eyes.

You both make the sloppiest sounds as you make an utter mess on and of him, making him cry on all fronts—cock weeping with thick pearly beads of pre while his eyes well up with tears down his flushed face, all sweaty with panic and bliss. 

The moans springing from his chest are virginal and raw and sweet music to your ears, panting for you like a puppy—you’re sure they can hear him out in the hallway when passing by. One of his hands clasps itself on top of his mouth, holding tightly to keep it all within—eyes shut and brows cinched. And yet, he makes no effort to shove you off—hips left jerking and jittering in response to your refined technique where you take him deeply, all the way down to the base, hallowing your cheeks, throttling him with your throat as your tongue wipes his creamy slit clean.

It’s painfully clear he’s never experienced anything like it, but that’s what turns you on the most. Sick as you are, you could suck him dry and savor every drop of him, knowing you’re the first ever to get a taste. But no, by now, your pussy’s so soaked you feel yourself dripping past the soggy lace of your panties, running down your soft thighs in waste.

He’s misty-eyed when you pull off with an ever-cruel pop—a sick mix of relief and sorrow warping his chest, feeling conflicted by the pulse making him think he’s on the verge of a heart attack if you continue—and another strumming his cock, making him think he’s going to keel over and die if you leave him unfinished.

Even so, he’s in a state of complete shell shock as you mount him on top of the toilet seat he’s melting against. Chest heaving, watching you as you lift your skirt up and peal your slick underwear to the side for him to lay his bleary swiveled eyes on your bared and dripping pussy.

“I love nice guys like you—” you moan, pouring the honeyed words down his throat as you ghost his parted lips with your spit-slicked ones, straddling his lap and shimmying ever closer until your tits squish against his chest. “They make me so wet, I lose all self-control.” 

He gulps in your shadow, looking up at you for mercy—cock twitching painfully between your thighs as your wrap your hand around his base real snug, giving him a nice tug as you line him up with your needy heat—making him all but squeal beneath you.

Your other hand makes its way into his hair, braiding your fingers within the locks to hold him steady—gently pulling his head back while leering down at him like caught prey. Playing with him just so, teasing him with your words, all in your sultry voice, making his head spin hot with a fever, “You’ll be a good boy and fuck me, won’t you? Pretty please?”

His breaths are heavy and wet, coming out shaky with his instant answer, “Y-yes—” all weak in a pathetic whimper that almost has you cum too soon.

“You’re so nice~ thank you,” you croon against his lips, kissing him sloppily with your tongue in his mouth as you shift your hips and start lowering your sopping cunt down upon his seeking length, taking him in with greedy ease, eagerly gripping his soft cockhead like a toy in a claw machine.

“Fhu—fuck—” he stutters under his breath, whinging before planting his teeth into his lip to keep it at bay—feeling like putty beneath you, sweaty and heavy and dumb, eagerly wanting all which you sought to give him—only more flushed at your mean undertones as you play with him like food on a silver platter.

You sling your arms around his neck and push your chest harder against him, moaning all too brazenly, “Oh! Fuck yes—that’s so good,” you sing while slowly taking him in further. “A nice guy with a big bad bully’s dick is the best!” 

He whines in return as his inches get eaten—each devoured one by one until his tip kneads into the mouth of your womb.

Sighing happily, you kiss his cheek and put your lips right at his ear with another wanton whimper, “You fill me up so so good.” Roosting on the size, thighs resting flush against his, feeling all giddy as it stretches you out oh-so-nicely. “Such a good toy-cock for me,” keening at the way it twitches inside you, pulsing in response to your tight walls, clenching it in ways it’s never before felt.

His eyes are already rolling back into his skull once you start lolling your hips—riding him, but keeping him deep at all times—lifting just enough for it to pull out only a little before sinking back down, making it settle into that perfect needy little spot inside you that makes your whole body shiver in delight.

“Mmh,” You suck his ear lobe, releasing it with a soft bite, before smiling down at him and his sweat-pilled expression. Cooing at him, “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

He can’t even answer with words anymore, only giving a dumb mewl as he nods his head. But, of course, you’re already well aware.

“Mmh—” your eyes gleam with delight, giving his lap a mean ride, leaving him all but breathless, before asking, “D’you like it, virgin boy? ‘You like my pussy? Like the way it milks your chubby cock for your cum?”

He nods again, even more eagerly this time—looking downright pathetic in every sense of the word.

“Do you want to?” you offer to his desperation, feeling as though he’s falling apart at your fingertips, needing you to hold him together. “I’ll let you since you’re such a sweet guy—” you tease while clenching his cock, making it impossible to want anything else no matter the consequence. “In exchange for a favor, of course.”

He couldn’t care less what the favor was—way beyond willing to pay any price you ask of him as he finally makes a move and grabs your hips with a strength you hadn’t thought he had the balls to perform, planting you down firmly and holding you with such need as his hips jitter and stutter—resting his cheek on your shoulder in drool and tears with a lovesick groan leaving him as he fills your pussy up with his creamy spend.

His whole body shakes—spasming in cute little aftershocks as he clutches onto your body, hugging you tightly.

You respond in kind, cuddling him and kissing the top of his head. “That was so warm and filling—what a good boy—you did so well,” you murmur ever-sweetly while petting his head, combing through his sweaty locks with your long glitter-pink nails—keeping your voice saccharine. “Did you enjoy yourself, hm? Your first time cumming in pussy instead of your dirty ol’ sock?”

You pick his face up—cupping his sloppy jaw in both palms—his eyes half-mast and glazed as you nose-kiss him with a smile on your face.

“You loved it, didn’t you? Silly virgin boy…”

Your cunt tingles at the sight of him—wrecked beauty, sweaty and undone. You feel his cock unswell inside you and decide to lift off and release him—letting it flop out and splat on his tummy in a puddle of slick.

“Look,” you fuss, holding his face in direction of it. “You made such a pretty mess—isn’t it lovely?”

Your pussy is left glistening and puffy, still wanting and waiting for its final hurrah. Your breath turns headier and so does your voice, now with a new darkness to it as  you whisper, “Time for that favor, sweet boy.” 

He blinks dumbly, impossibly hopeless, wrapped so tightly around your pinky it’s pitiful. Of course, you take advantage��guiding his head to level with your cunt. 

“Open wide, tongue out flat.”

He obeys wordlessly. And oh god it makes your gut stir viscously—watching his tongue loll free between parted lips.

Your voice flares with bliss at the sight, shy of unhinged, as you giggle breathily, “That’s right—taste the pretty mess you made.”

He’s pushed face-first, trapped between your thighs with his jaw like an open cup beneath you, tonguing the mixed slick from your slit and slurping it all up without shame.

And fuck—it feels so good, you lose even more of your mind while tugging him even closer—all but pulling him off the toilet seat, making him kneel down on the floor instead. And still, he makes no effort to escape, but the opposite—seeking to go deeper into your cunt, crying into you as he laps up every last drop of yours and his arousal—making your thighs quake around him, grinding down against his mouth, onto his eager tongue, having it pet your clit over and over until you also come to the same sudden stumbling halt.

“Yes—yes! Oh, fuck! I’m gonna—it’s coming—”

And there it goes, ripping along your loins, surging from your lower belly. With both your hands tangled harshly in his hair, he’s not going anywhere, lips locked with yours as it starts pouring.

You’re squirting on him—hot and hard—on his tongue, inside his mouth, down his throat, in his belly. You’re squirting on him and he’s drinking it, he realizes—but even so, he isn’t able to stop. Instead, he unwinds his jaw even wider, digs his tongue deeper, and accepts every drop of the warm stream as it drenches his face and splashes down his collar and shoulders, utterly soaking his shirt, making in see-through as it clings to his chest like a second skin.

You’ve closed your eyes and thrown your head back, basking in every last little twitch of your body as you relieve yourself all over his face.

Finally, after a moment, you let go of his hair and step back—feeling refreshed and happy with your work—seeing the poor loser sit before the toilet, all drenched and exhausted with his limp cock spent and messy, looking like a beautiful wreck.

You smile, pulling your panties back in place, and you skirt down again before unlocking the stall and opening the door, only looking back at him for a moment, tapping your nail at a few matching pink scribbles written on the wall. “Here’s my number and address if you wanna have more fun." And then you leave, just like that. "Bye-bye~”

♡ BNHA – Amajiki, Deku, Shigaraki, Shinso ♡ JJK – Yuuta, Choso, Nanami ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Kenma ♡ CSM – Denji ♡ BLLK – Isagi ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Sakura, Nirei

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[luvrrszn]

messy

RAFE CAMERON x FEM READER (18+)

summary coming back from college, the last thing hookup!rafe expects to return to is rumours that you’ve been sleeping with jj

warnings angst, happy ending though!, lowkey miscommunication, all characters r of age !! brief jj x reader but that's just for the plot okay...

a/n ok stay with me now basically reader is 18 (graduated hs, but taking a gap year) and she's the same age as jj/john b/everyone else while rafe is 19 and was having his first year in college !! yo why did this idea lowkey come to me in a dream during a nap Zzzzzz and ooc kelce for this one my bad

masterlist

it was supposed to be a summer thing.

something fun, fleeting, memorable yet forgettable. a secret, of course, because rafe would never risk his reputation by being seen with a pogue, would he?

but the sneaking around was useless, everyone knew that something was happening between the two of you. well, everyone that mattered anyway. they saw the way his eyes lingered a second too long on you, how his grip tightened just a little when he led you through crowded rooms. they noticed how you always left parties together.

but none of that meant anything.

it's casual, it's just convenient.

that's what the both of you told anyone and everyone who asked.

that's what you kept telling yourself when you found yourself wanting more.

especially when rafe told you he was moving away for college.

—

at first, you waited.

you told yourself it was a polite thing to do, waiting for some time before getting with someone else.

but in reality, you were waiting before moving on, in hopes that you'd get a text from rafe, who was hundreds of miles away, a text that would change your relationship.

but it never came.

then the daily check-ins and "miss u babe" texts lessen in frequency.

you're lucky if you get a text once a week.

you think maybe he's just busy. give him the benefit of the doubt right? maybe he's still trying to cope with the new workload, or making new friends.

you're proved wrong when you click on topper's close friends' story on instagram.

weekend after weekend, rafe's clubbing, partying, with a different girl on his lap each time.

well, if he's clearly not bothered to text, why bother waiting?

—

and when he finally remembers that his sweet girl is waiting for him, you're not waiting anymore.

you don't even bother to open his texts.

why?

because you're too busy having fun with jj!

it's casual, fun, spontaneous with jj. you don't have to worry about being seen "too close" in public, it's just you and jj maybank having fun!

you party, go to the beach, hanging out with your friends. you surround yourself with your people, always making sure you're too busy to be thinking about rafe. you bury your feelings deep, and do anything you can to take your mind off of it.

having grown close to rafe's friends too, you go to parties on both figure eight and the cut, always with jj. and you make damn sure everyone sees.

you secretly hope rafe's friends tell him.

—

in the weeks that follow, you're too busy having fun fooling around and partying with jj to notice the text from rafe that tells you he's coming back for winter break.

—

"hey, you gotta hurry a lil if you wanna get some of the good booze before the kooks get 'em all!" jj yells at you from down the stairs.

"i'm coming, just wait!" you huff as you struggle with your earrings as you walk down the stairs. you had spent the night at sarah's just so you could get to the party down the street more easily.

when you get to the landing of the stairs, jj lets out a low whistle as you do a little spin. you're wearing a short sparkly skirt that barely covers anything, and a very low-cut black lace tank. remembering that it was rafe's favourite outfit of yours sends a pang of sadness through your chest, but you push it aside.

the moment you step out onto the street, you can already hear the loud music blasting from the house down the street. you and jj race down the road, and of course you win! (he let you win...)

"yo! see you brought your little dog with you today." kelce chuckles, handing you and jj a bottle of beer each as you two enter through the front door.

"hey, y'know i'm just playing. good to see you, maybank." kelce says, arms up in mock surrender once you glare at him. he winks at you, and then he disappears into the crowd.

after dancing for what felt like an eternity, you slip upstairs to the bathroom to get a bit of air and space.

when you finally push open the bathroom door, the muffled bass from the party instantly flooding back into your ears. the air is thick with smoke and spilled liquor, the dim hallway lights flickering unevenly. as you step out, adjusting your top, your breath catches in your throat.

there he is.

rafe fucking cameron, back from college, standing at the bottom of the stairs like he never left.

he's leaning against the wall, one hand lazily gripping a red solo cup, the other tucked into the pocket of his jeans. his gaze is already on you—intense, unreadable. the kind that makes your stomach flip in a way you wish it wouldn’t.

you immediately look around for an escape route and you realise you're fucked, with no way out except down the stairs, past him, and out the front door. when you finally refocus your gaze on rafe, he looks different, somehow. sharper. more tired. tall, so tall. you don't remember him being that tall.

but despite everything, he's still the same rafe—the same cocky tilt of his head, the same way he takes up too much space without even trying.

you force yourself to keep walking, gripping the wooden railing as you descend the stairs, ignoring the way your pulse pounds in your ears. you won’t give him the satisfaction of stopping.

but of course, rafe doesn’t let that happen.

the moment your foot touches the last step, his free hand curls around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. the grip isn’t tight, but it’s enough—enough to send a shiver up your spine, enough to remind you that he’s right here.

"didn’t think i’d see you here, bug," he drawls, voice thick with amusement. his fingers skim down your arm, lazy and deliberate. familiar. "heard you’ve been keeping yourself entertained while I was gone."

your plan worked. he'd heard about you and jj. but why on earth were you feeling like absolute shit?

you wriggle out of his grip.

"get out of my way, rafe." you grit out before darting through the crowd and out of the front door.

but he's hot on your tail. he's not letting you go, not this time.

he grabs your waist and spins you around, holding you in place this time, so you don’t slip away.

"don’t act like you care now, rafe. let me go." your voice is soft, pleading almost.

his smirk falters for half a second. but then, just like that, it’s back—only meaner this time.

"oh, but i do," he murmurs, stepping closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "see, i come home after months away, and what do i hear?" he tilts his head, eyes dark. "that my girl has been playing house with a pogue?"

the way he calls you his girl doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you’re too angry to care.

"but that’s the thing, rafe! i am a pogue! i’ve always been, and that’s the issue you’ve always had! you’ve always been too ashamed of that, so why do you care about me now? you can’t move away and expect me to turn my life upside down for you once you get tired of college girls and come back to outer banks!"

and for a while, rafe is stunned. he’s never seen you this angry.

rafe’s jaw tightens. his grip on your hip flexes before he snatches his hand away, like your skin suddenly burns him. his smirk is long gone now, replaced by something darker—something stormy.

"that’s not—" he starts, but he stops himself, exhaling sharply through his nose. he drags a hand down his face, as if physically trying to pull himself together.

because you’re right. and he hates that.

his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, his shoulders rising and falling with the weight of whatever he’s trying not to say. when he finally looks at you again, his eyes are sharp, frustrated.

"you think i don’t care?" his voice is lower now, rougher. "you think i came back and the first thing i did was find you because i don’t give a shit?"

you fold your arms over your chest, willing yourself to hold your ground. "i think you came back because you ran out of things to distract yourself with," you snap. "and now you’re just—what? picking up where you left off? you don’t get to do that, rafe."

before you can react, he pulls you into his chest. your enveloped by his familiar smell, his cologne, his shampoo. he has one arm around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head. his chin rests on the top of your head.

you don’t even notice you’ve started crying until you feel rafe’s grip tighten, his hand splaying against the small of your back like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

"shh," he mutters, his breath warm against your hair. his voice has lost its usual edge, no more cocky drawl, no more sharpness. just rafe. just the boy who used to sneak into your room at night when he had nowhere else to go. just the boy who left, but still came back.

you try to push away, but he doesn’t let you—not completely. his hold loosens just enough for you to look up at him, your vision blurred with tears.

"you don’t get to do this," you whisper, voice shaking. "you don’t get to leave and come back like nothing happened. like i—like i didn’t—" you cut yourself off before the words spill out.

like i didn't matter

like i didn't miss you

like i didn't love you.

rafe stares at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. his thumb swipes gently over your cheek, catching a stray tear. the touch is so soft, so familiar, so cruel.

"you think i didn’t miss you?" his voice is hoarse now, strained, like he can’t believe you’d ever doubt it. "you think i wasn’t losing my fucking mind without you?"

your breath hitches.

when you finally regain your composure, you whisper, "you left for college, rafe. what was i supposed to do? wait around for you?"

rafe exhales sharply, shaking his head, "it's not about that. it's about you acting like you didn't care when i left—then immediately turning around and shacking up with jj!"

"you are mad that i didn't wait around for you!" you scoff incredulously.

you shake your head, scoffing again. "unbelievable." you turn to leave, trying to escape his embrace, because if you stay, you’ll say something you’ll regret. but before you can take a step, you're right back in rafe's arms again.

"i didn’t think i had to ask," he says quietly.

you freeze. his voice isn’t angry anymore—it’s something else, something raw, something that makes your chest ache.

"i thought you knew."

you swallow hard, refusing to look up at him. "knew what, rafe?"

he lets out a breath, tipping your chin up with his fingers so you look at him.

"that it was never just a summer thing for me."

rafe's confession leaves you breathless.

"and because i can’t stand watching you act like i don’t mean anything to you when i know that’s not true." he continues, voice softer, warmer.

your stomach twists. "you don’t know anything."

rafe steps closer, his hands settling lightly on your waist. "don’t i?" his voice is lower now, rougher. "you think i don’t notice the way you look at me? that i don’t feel it every time you’re near me?"

you shake your head, but your fingers have already found the hem of his shirt, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

"you’re full of shit."

"maybe." his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smirk, but there’s something softer in his expression. "but you still want me."

you hate that he’s right. you hate that no matter how mad you are, no matter how much you try to push him away, you still want him just as much as you always have.

and he knows it.

rafe leans in, his nose brushing against yours, giving you every opportunity to stop him.

you don’t.

the moment your lips meet, it’s over. the tension snaps, the anger dissolving into something hungrier, needier. his hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you let him, let yourself melt into him like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

because maybe it is.

"so what now?" you whisper, voice somewhat uncertain.

rafe exhales a small laugh, shaking his head. "whatever you want."

you roll your eyes. "that’s not an answer."

"wow, i could feel you rolling your eyes."

he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "then here’s one: i want you. not just when it’s easy, not just when it’s convenient. i want you."

"no more sneaking around?"

"no more sneaking around." he smirks. "i’ll even let jj live."

you shove at his chest, laughing despite yourself, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the weight that’s been sitting in your chest lifts.

[abbotsanatomy]

Jack x reader

Possessive & Protective Jack. Reader is the hospital social worker. Jack finds out a grieving family member has been stalking and harassing reader.!

⨳ (I’LL BE WATCHING YOU)

pairing: jack abbot x social worker!reader warnings: age gap (28, and 49), depictions of stalking, grief, child death, epilepsy (seizures), verbal assault, physical assault. author's note: this was a rough one to write tbh! hope u like! title’s totally inspired by ‘every breath you take,’ i love double meanings lol

“Good morning!” you greet, strolling into the ER break room.

You set aside the coffees you bought for everyone. It's your turn to bring everyone their fix tonight. They're nothing fancy, as can be expected from someone who earns almost half of what everyone else around here does.

You pick one of the brown coffee cups up from the paper cupholder on the counter, “Or, Y'know. Good night?”

“Live-saver!” one of the second-year residents yells. She's quick to grab one of the coffees, too.

The few people in the break room do the same, thanking you along the way. They slowly filter out, presumably going to tell everyone the break room's stocked up again so they can get their own before it's all gone.

It's just you and Dana Evans in the small room now. She's never been one for rushing home the moment her shift's over. She always lingers, you feel like you might know her even better than the night shift's charge nurse. The affinity you have for her can also be attributed, in huge part, to the fact that the veteran charge nurse reminds you of Dr.Abbot.

“Hey, kid. I heard what happened yesterday,” she starts. “Are you good?”

Wow. Word gets around much quicker than you expected. What happened yesterday should've been less than a blip on someone like Dana's radar.

The situation in question was just a grieving parent who'd said some pretty nasty things to you. He was in shock. You understand. You have to; it's your job.

His anger was justified. You were partially responsible for him missing his kid's last few moments. The memories kept you up all day.

The girl was barely two. When they came in, she was having an epileptic seizure that wouldn't go away. Upon further investigation, the doctors, with a neuro consult, told her father there was a surgery that could reduce her seizures. He'd heard about it before, but he was skeptical.

Apparently, having had his seizing daughter in his arms, unable to do anything but wait for an ambulance changed his mind.

There was one minor problem, though. Before they could get his daughter prepped for surgery, the hospital needed his insurance documents. She was stable; this wasn't emergency surgery. So the financial aspect was, unfortunately, a priority.

“Her mother's out of town. It's just me. I can't leave her alone,” he'd told you.

“Well, she still needs to be monitored for a while. And I understand you want the surgery immediately,” you'd reasoned with him. “Maybe you can make it home and back quickly, before she wakes up.”

He was hesitant at first, but you were determined. You'd help where you can.

“I'll be with her the whole time. I promise. Our doctors will do the best they can to make sure she's comfortable and safe.”

Safe. What a stupid word to use. She wasn't safe when he came back. She was dead.

She'd had another seizure minutes after he left. The entire medical team tried their best, you know that. You were there, holding her hand through it all. Begging her to stay strong for her dad.

When he came back, he was held back by security as he shouted all kinds of evil truths at you.

“You bitch.”

“You all killed her.”

“I could've been here if it wasn't for you!”

It was all true.

His words have replayed in your mind ever since. So, no, you aren't good. But there's nothing a charge nurse you're sure has been through worse can do about it, so you won't tell her.

“Mhm, I'm fine. Don't worry about me,” you lie, straight to her face.

You have a feeling she doesn't believe you, but she's also smart enough to recognize when someone doesn't want to talk about something. So, she drops it.

“Alright. Be kind to yourself, okay? Take some time off if you need it,” she advises, and you trust her judgement. It isn't like you'll listen to her, though.

“Okay. I'll try.”

Dana walks out of the break room, but not before giving you a long hug. On a good day, you'd be soaring with happiness. Today, it makes you feel just slightly better.

You're mid-sip when your favorite attending walks in. Jack looks shocked to see you. He'd given you the exact same advice Dana just did. You'd obviously not taken it.

He walks towards the counter you're leaning against. You feel like he's about to tell you off. He just stands there for a long moment. Then, he's searching your face for something. A sign of distress, maybe?

He doesn't find whatever it is he's looking for. You smile at how ridiculous this staring habit of his is.

“Are you good?” he parrots Dana.

Your brows crease, “Have you and Nurse Evans been talking about me?”

Jack looks confused.

“I'm fine. I'm great, even. Okay?” you demand.

He nods, but it's very hesitant.

“I have a shrink. I'm seeing her after work. You don't have to worry about me,” you reiterate.

Everything he could say was said yesterday. He reassured you for thirty minutes after, brought you water and food in between patients. There's nothing more he can say right now.

He just grabs one of the coffees you brought, “Thank you.”

His tone's a little too sincere for what this is. You'll take it.

You both exit the break room and part ways to get on with your shifts. His eyes are front and center in your mind the entire time, especially when you need some comfort.

You've been on edge lately. You're flinching at things you aren't supposed to. You close your curtains whenever you're home alone. You just can't shake this feeling that you're being watched.

The 90$-an-hour therapist you visit once a month says it's a symptom of your PTSD. That's of no consequence, because the anxiety feels as real as can be. Your nerves are fried all the time.

You need a break. There's one person in particular you want to spend your time off with. He's been invited to your apartment for dinner tonight. Thankfully, Jack hasn’t embarrassed you by rejecting your invitation.

He's just texted you that he's on his way now. You're in the kitchen with your cooking playlist playing in the background. It's the kind of mellow moment you haven't experienced in weeks. You're bringing the wooden mixing spoon up to your mouth to get a taste, when the moment's rudely interrupted.

Someone's pulling you back, with their arm tightly wrapped around your throat. This isn't psychosis, paranoia, or PTSD. This is real.

You try to hit back with the spoon in your hand, but it quickly clatters to the floor, splattering soup everywhere.

Your next line of defense is clawing your way out. Literally. You scratch and pull away at the stranger's arm. It's minimally effective. You're trying to scream out for help, too. It barely comes out as a squeak.

Your vision's getting blurry, when you feel someone tackle the intruder, bringing them to the floor. You can hear an altercation happening on your floor, right next to where you're coughing up a storm, just trying to catch your breath again.

Someone's landing more than a few punches, in the distance. The sound becomes much less distressing when you realize it's Jack who has the upper hand in this fight. His eyes lack the tenderness they usually have when you’re staring back at them.

“Jack...” you croak out, trying to pull him out of it.

He stops, pulling the guy under him up by the collar. That's when you realize it's the same grieving man who was shouting at you in the middle of the PTMC’s emergency room, less than a week ago.

Jack slams him against your kitchen wall, his arm pinning the man in place by the throat. On the floor, beside you, is a set of pictures. They must've fallen from the man’s pocket mid-brawl. They're all of you. At your therapist's office. At home. At work.

He's been watching you, following you. The realization fills you with dread.

You pull your phone out and dial 911 immediately.

“Are you okay?” Jack asks, his eyes still set on the man in front of him.

“Yes, I'm fine. Be gentle,” you tell him.

He shakes his head subtly. He'd be smiling a little too, if he wasn't so angry at the man in front of him. Of course, you'd want him to be gentle with the man who was about to kill you. You've always seen the best in everyone.

He can’t ever deny you a thing, so he's as gentle as he can be, with how furious he is right now.

“911, what's your emergency?” you hear on the other end.

Jack takes care of it all. Tells the officers what happened, shows them the pictures, escorts them out. All you could manage for now was a few hums in agreement to the questions the officers asked you.

Once they left, Jack came to sit beside you on the couch. Now, he’s been staring at your neck intensely. You can tell he wants to take a look.

“Do you mind?”

“Nope,” you answer, pulling your hair to the side.

His fingers are gentle on your neck, as they graze the bruise forming there.

His voice is tight, like he's still barely containing his anger, “It looks alright. It'll just be slightly bruised.”

You nod, “Thank you. For everything.”

Your hand finds his, interlocking your fingers. He brings your joined hands up to his mouth, to place a chaste kiss onto the back of your hand. You grin, and finally look up from the spot on your carpet you’d been staring at.

There's a cut on his cheek, still bleeding. You bring your other hand to rest on his cheek, pressing your mouth to the skin beside the cut.

“Let me take care of that for you,” you offer.

It's almost like he didn't even hear you, though. “You probably shouldn't go to work tomorrow.”

You nod in agreement, “Yeah, probably.

“Can you stay?” you propose, barely louder than a whisper.

You're asking because it'd make you feel safer. He can tell. He agrees, immediately.

You pull your hand away to go grab the first aid kit in your bathroom cabinet. You're also rehearsing how you're going to convince him to sleep in your bed with you, instead of the couch. He ends up being very easy to convince.

[brairslair]

just thinking abt relationship dynamics with the op boys <33

EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors dni)

a/n: currently have one piece brain rot and it is consuming me so here’s this! fem!reader and very suggestive + mentions sex, but no actual smut. NOT PROOFREAD 🙏🏻

don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and follow to support my work! it always makes me day mwah

“of course i’m serious”

luffy:

in usual luffy fashion, one of your very first interactions ends with him trying to convince you to join his pirate crew

at first you’re hesitant, rightfully so, having just met the guy

however, you’re quickly persuaded by his happy-go-lucky personality and loyalty to his crew

after finally joining the crew yourself, your relationship with luffy gradually melts from just being friendly crew mates to being so close that you would put your life on the line for him at a moment’s notice

he seems to have that effect on people

while you grow close with all of the strawhats, your relationship with luffy is different

within a few months you already feel like you’ve known him your entire life

the two of you never have a dull moment together

while you love to entertain his antics, you also know when to stay level headed and keep him grounded

and while your work ethic is always valued on the ship, luffy can always get you to relax and have a good laugh when you need a break

eventually the two of you start to literally finish each other’s sentences, and it freaks everyone else out every time

you balance each other out perfectly

the two of you can talk and laugh for hours and not get tired of each other’s company

definitely tries to teach you a little portuguese but does not have the patience

you guys have friendship bracelets and he never takes his off

over the years, your relationship begins to grow from best friends to something more

you notice the shift far before luffy does

luffy picks up on little changes, like the weird tingly feeling he gets in his stomach when he makes you laugh

he doesn’t really think much of it though and brushes it off

probably assumes he’s just hungry…

in fact, luffy probably doesn’t really comprehend his feelings until someone spells it out for him, but in his head it doesn’t really change anything

you’ve always been his go to, and that won’t change now

the shift from platonic to romantic is gradual, natural, and if you ask robin, entirely inevitable

(she predicted this from the very beginning when the crew met you in your hometown)

he’s confident and honest with you in sharing the way he feels once he comes to the realization, and you allow him the same courtesy

he doesn’t feel any reason to hide or be embarrassed about his feelings

to him, being your boyfriend just means being your best friend except better because you get to hold hands and kiss and stuff

nothing is awkward when you start dating

it just feels right

he’s always been a very touchy person, even before you started dating

now that you’re together though, he loves cuddling

sleeping just isn’t as comfy anymore if he isn’t laying on you

definitely bites you sometimes and he says it’s because you’re so awesome that he doesn’t know what else to do with himself

he holds your hand all the time and likes to swing them back and forth when you walk together

he also likes to carry you on his shoulders because it makes you laugh

he doesn’t really use pet names for you often, if at all, but he really likes it when you use them for him

will, however, give you absolutely ridiculous nicknames that he finds cute

he has obviously never had a girlfriend before you

he wasn’t really concerned with romance or sex at all actually until you

you definitely have to teach him a lot

like what you’d like to do on dates

and how to kiss

luffy didn’t really understand the appeal of kissing, but you seemed to want to do it so he figured he’d give it a try

after kissing you for the first time he can’t get enough

definitely understands now

a super messy kisser (ofc)

gets giddy when you smile or laugh into his kisses

he smiles into your kisses a lot himself because he’s just so happy to be with you

you also have to teach him about the concept of pda and public etiquette, because otherwise he just does not care and will literally start making out with you in front of the entire crew simply because he wants to kiss you

sex is of course also very new to luffy, and like kissing, he does not understand the appeal until you test the waters with him and his mind is blown

he didn’t realize it would be so fun

it’s almost always sloppy, but he’s very attentive to your requests and desires

he takes in everything you teach him and improves upon it, because he loves making you happy more than anything

kind of a little shit sometimes though because he definitely overstimulates you without even realizing it

never intentionally mean though, but can be a huge tease entirely by accident

loves giving you pretty things he finds like rocks, shells, and any cool trinkets he finds laying around

he just gets so excited to share everything with you, and you’re always the first person he wants to talk to about everything

even if it seems as simple as finding a cool rock

other than sprinkling in more couple-y things, your relationship dynamic really does remain the same as it had always been, best friends

the two of you never take life too seriously, and just allow yourselves to enjoy each other’s company

luffy may not be the most “romantic” boyfriend in a traditional sense, but he will do absolutely anything to see you happy and safe, and you the same for him

he doesn’t need to do any grand gestures to give you butterflies in your stomach

you are each other’s safe space

the two of you said the L word to each other well before you became a couple, but the first time he says it romantically is when you personally cook a three course meal and bake him his favorite sweets to celebrate his birthday

saying those words to each other feels so natural that you almost don’t realize you hadn’t been saying it this whole time until now

will willingly share his food with you if you ask, which is genuinely mind blowing to everyone including yourself

if he proposes to you it will be super out of the blue and unplanned, completely catching you off guard

the two of you could just be talking, having a normal conversation, maybe getting some work done around the ship, when all of a sudden he’s just like

“hey, do you wanna get married?”

probably heard sanji talking about weddings or something and was like, oh! we’re in love, we should get married too!

obviously you can’t legally get married being pirates trying to slip under marine radar, so luffy has franky make you both simple rings out of pieces of sea glass you picked out

the rings have each other’s initials engraved into them

after that, the two of you consider yourselves married and the rest of the crew follows suit

not much changes in your relationship other than your titles

he’ll proudly tell people you’re his wife if you do something cool in a fight or someone asks about you or something

but even without a proposal or a ring, the two of you were always going to be forever

zoro:

when you first meet zoro, you see him as cocky, brazen, and extremely annoying

the two of you clash almost immediately

after luffy somehow manages to convince you to join the crew, the close proximity only makes it worse

the two of you are constantly at each other’s throats, taking any opportunity to push each other’s buttons

nami often jokes that “the two of you bicker like an old married couple”, which does not go over well with either of you

for months the two of you are rivals, making everything a competition to see who’s better than the other

however, after a while you begin to see zoro’s true colors through the cracks

his dedication to his craft, the respect he has for luffy, the kindness he tries to mask beneath a hardened exterior, and his absolute undying loyalty

it makes you begin to wonder why you began to dislike him in the first place

over time, your bickering becomes less venomous and more playful, bantering back and forth for the fun of it

you pick up new habits like sparring with zoro every day, telling him it’s because “the only way to beat your rival is to know his weaknesses”

or zoro waking you up at the crack of dawn to do laps around the deck because he heard you say you weren’t a morning person once, except he brings you coffee exactly the way you like it, every time

eventually your relationship snowballs into friendship

the two of you still bicker and banter, butting heads every once in a while

but now you also laugh at each other’s jokes

and sit together in comfortable silence just to be in each other’s presence

and eventually, you get to the point where the two of you can share your deepest, darkest secrets, fears, and desires, that nobody else is allowed to hear

he makes you feel safe, and you know you are with him

without even realizing it, your relationship starts sinking into something much deeper than friendship

whenever you’re off the ship, zoro is almost always at your side, practically attached to you, making sure you’re never in harms way

the two of you can basically read each other’s minds, seemingly able to communicate without a single word shared between you

neither of you are even conscious of your feelings for one another until nami catches the two of you sound asleep on the desk with your head resting in zoro’s lap and runs to tell usopp

when you do begin to realize how you feel, neither of you bring it up, too afraid to ruin what you already have

but you don’t need to

your bodies and minds are practically interlinked, bending at each other’s will

your relationship stays mostly the same, only gradually and organically becoming closer

running errands together on new islands, napping together more often than you do apart, sitting next to each other during meals, etc

eventually your mutual feelings become almost unbearable, and you finally cross the line between friends and lovers

you would probably have to be the one to make the first move, because not only is zoro insanely stubborm, but he’s also uncharacteristically easily flustered

your first kiss feels like pieces clicking into place, or feeling the warmth of the sun in the dead of winter

as cheesy as it sounds, it feels like home

there’s no conversation about feelings, or asking you to be his girlfriend, you just are

like all the seasons of your relationship, the shift is slow, and goes unnoticed for a while by most of your crew mates

robin, nami, and usopp are the first to notice, seeing you fall asleep against his chest instead of his lap, or seeing you whispering secret conversations up in the crows nest when you think the others are asleep

eventually everyone is made aware of your relationship when you challenge zoro to a drinking game at a party, ending with you getting drunk off your ass and kissing him before immediately passing out against his shoulder

zoro is not a fan of pda, so for the most part, your relationship remains the same around the crew and on islands

still bickering and making up stupid competitions to challenge yourselves, but now theres a softer, more intimate side to your relationship

he will occasionally do passive agressieve little things to rub your relationship in sanji’s face though if he’s flirting with you too much for his liking

like whispering something dirty in your ear to make you get all flustered, or wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you into the dining room

he partly does it to get a rise out of sanji, sure, but mostly because he loves the reaction it gets out of you

the bond you share is clearly special, and thats something that everyone can see

however, your relationship is much different when you’re alone

it’s much more domestic

quieter

you know each other like the back of your hands at this point, so sometimes theres no need for words

the silence is soothing

other times, the two of you can talk for hours

he’ll gladly listen to you ramble on about anything and everything thats on your mind if you want to

and he’ll hang onto every word

he’s also a bit more touchy and vocal in private

he’ll massage your sore muscles after a particularly tough sparring session

or rub his thumb across your hip where he holds you against his chest, mumbling compliments into your hair

he’s another man who never really thought about relationships until you came along, so he’s quite inexperienced in a lot of areas

he picks up quickly and adapts, following the signals that your body sends him and adjusting accordingly

sex with him is either extremely intimate and gentle, or he’s being a total pain in the ass and teasing the shit out of you

either way, he’s hyper aware of your every move and action

his main objective is always to please you, because he quite literally would do anything for you

in his eyes you deserve the world handed to you on a silver platter, and he wants to be the one holding the plate

neither of you need to hear the words to know that you love each other irrevocably

you can see it in every move that he makes, and he can hear it in the beating of your heart

when the words are shared it’s in the hushed privacy that only you will ever share, or after a particularly life threatening battle

zoro knows that he’s yours forever like he knows he needs oxygen to breathe, but he’s also not a sappy romantic like the cook

he would bring up the idea of marriage in casual conversation to see where your head is at

the two of you have extremely healthy communication, always 100% honest with each other

if you don’t like the idea of marriage he would drop the subject and never bring it up again, content to just be with you

but if you do like the idea of getting married, he would propose right then (very informally)

“why don’t we get married then?”

“are you serious?”

“of course i’m serious. let’s get married.”

the two of you would pick out simple wedding bands on the next island you docked at, stealing away for the day to allow yourselves to bask in your new beginning

the rest of the crew would also totally freak out at dinner when they see the sparkling new jewelry adorning your fingers

sanji:

as we all know, sanji is a lover of women

he’s also a hopeless romantic

from the moment you join the crew, he’s completely head over heels

he thinks you are absolutely the most stunning woman he’s ever laid eyes on in his life

while he dotes on you, you don’t really pay him any mind at all at first

you see the way he treats other women, and you know he’s simply a flirt by nature, so why would it be any different when it’s aimed towards you?

and it first, it’s really not that much different

he just finds you mesmerizing, but it’s nothing more than an infatuation

but as some time goes by and he and the rest of crew get to know you, it turns into something more

you become friends first, quickly forming a strong bond

you keep him company while he cooks, allowing him to teach you different techniques and recipes

you listen to him talk about his dreams, and he returns the favor, judgement free

sanji quickly realizes he’s fallen for you

like for real

the feeling scares him at first, never having felt so many intense emotions about one person before

but the fear is quickly overcome by determination to devote himself to you in every way

he takes care of your every need, defends your honor when necessary, and is always there for you when you need a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on

you don’t catch onto your feelings until months after sanji pinpointed his, long after you had already plummeted far away from feelings that could be considered platonic

you make the first move, and neither of you hesitate to leap right into it

he set’s up dates for the two of you frequently

compliments you up and down, every word sincere

he gets super flustered and giddy when you compliment his cooking

never forgets an anniversary, valentines day, or your birthday, and always goes all out to make sure it’s extra special for you

sanji isn’t inexperienced per-se, but he also hasn’t been with many women

however, he has a talent for this sort of thing, and his movements are smooth and fluid, never unsure

he kisses you like a man starved, gentle at first, quickly becoming more passionate and hungry because you’re absolutely irresistible

he’s handles you the same way in the bedroom

gentle and passionate

sanji always finds a way to make sex super romantic

he likes to hold your hand, and give you kisses, and tell you how much he loves you

he has a CD burned with a bunch of super sweet love songs, and it doubles as a slow dance playlist and a sex playlist

after you become official, it’s no secret to the crew

sanji is practically shouting it from the rooftops

he’s even more over the top than before, waiting on you hand and foot

loves holding you, and intertwining your fingers when the two of you go looking for ingredients on whatever island you’re docked at

loves hugs and cuddles obviously

always holds doors open for you, pulls out your chair, offers you his coat, and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman

also uses so many pet names for you that you can’t even keep track of them all

still a massive flirt even though you’re already his, and reaffirm that truth every single day

your relationship is very flirty in general

he can dish it out way better than he can take it

he gets flustered sooooo easily when you give him a taste of his own medicine

even though he’s quite eccentric in the way he loves you, he can also be really soft when the moment’s right

the two of you can giggle about stupid hypotheticals one second and be having a deep philosophical conversation the next

sanji tells you he loves you for the first time within like the first 3 weeks of you dating

and he means it 100% too

he absolutely worships you and thinks he must have been a saint in a past life to be able to deserve you reciprocating his feelings

sanji’s known since the very beginning that he was going to marry you some day

as romantic as he is, he cooks you a wonderful meal, just for the two of you

he lights up the place with dozens of candles and rose petals scattered everywhere

and by some miracle he summons the will power to get through dinner with you, before finally beginning his long speech, pouring out all of his love for you like poetry

he kneels on one knee before you, and the ring is barley slipped onto your finger before he has your back pressed against the kitchen counter

oops!

the two of you throw a little ceremony with the crew on the next island you dock at, with vows and a dress and everything

sanji refused to let you settle for anything less than perfect, because you deserved to have a real wedding

his vows are gut wrenchingly gorgeous btw

cries when he sees you walking down the aisle

he makes sure to call you “my wife” as much as humanly possible, and kisses your ring all the time

usopp:

you and usopp became friends pretty much the second you joined the crew

you both have such a similar sense of humor, and you love listening to his ridiculous stories

he lovessss gossiping with you and it’s your favorite pastime

and of course you help him craft his weapons

the two of you are basically inseperable

you do absolutely everything together

you help each other get through your day to day tasks, talking and joking your way through them

you watch him practice his aim and cheer him on

you like laying down together and looking at the shapes the clouds make

you sit next to each other at meals most of the time so that you can gossip with your eyes

but sometimes if you sit across from each other you have staring contests

you don’t know when or how it happened, but somewhere over the years you and usopp fell desperately in love with each other

everyone knows how you feel for each other, hell even you know how usopp feels about you, but he’s completely oblivious to it all

the only reason you haven’t made a move yet is because nami made a bet with you to see how long it takes him to fess up, and neither of you are allowed to “interfere”

he finally confesses to you one night after a long celebration for another strawhat victory

you always make fun of him for being such a lightweight, but tonight it really shows

completely wasted after only two shots, he finally professes his love for you

nami won the bet, but you honestly couldn’t care less

the next day he’s probably super embarrassed, but once you tell him you feel the same way he’s SO relieved

he gets flustered so easily it’s a little humorous

you barely even have to do anything to make him a blushing stuttering mess

most of the time you do it by accident

he has a staring problem because everything you do is so mesmerizing to him

you take your relationship fairly slow

he gets insanely flustered every time you hold his hand

he LOVES cuddling but he has to hide his face against you because he gets so dazed just by being so close to you

the first time you kissed him he almost passed out

he cannot believe you actually want to be with him

once he’s more comfortable with the concept that you really do want him as much as he wants you, he kisses you all the time

your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your knuckles, and most importantly, your lips

his kisses are gentle and cautious at first, growing more confident the longer you’re together, but still always soft

the crew thinks you’re the cutest couple ever, sometimes disgustingly so

usopp is extremely inexperienced, despite the stories he tells that suggest otherwise, so you make sure to let him set the pace

when he’s ready to take the relationship a step further, he’s a bit clumsy at first, but eager to learn

talks a big game, but when it comes down to it he always “lets you” take the lead

loves bragging about you and telling people that you’re his girlfriend

he’s just so proud to be with you

literally thinks you’re the coolest person ever

you guys are still best friends even though you’re also so much more than that

you still gossip, and do your work together, and make ridiculous jokes, and are there for each other no matter what

if marriage is something you want, you would have to hint at it heavy

because he is not going to come up with the idea to propose otherwise

not because he doesn’t want to marry you, but simply because he’s never even thought about marriage like that before

it take him weeks to work up the courage to finally propose, but he would do it all “the right way” because you deserve a real proposal

takes you out on the deck to watch the sunset and then he’s down on one knee with a ring box in hand

gets teary eyed asking you to marry him, and cries happy tears with you when you say yes

you would have a simple ceremony on the ship, just vows, rings, and a kiss, and just like that, you’re husband and wife

chopper would 100% be the ring bearer and nami would be the flower girl

brags about you, and makes sure to include you in all of his stories

no matter how long you guys have been together, his wild imagination never gets old

law:

you were on the brink of death when law found you, taking you onto the polar tang to perform a life saving operation

you could barely remember what even caused the injuries in the first place by the time you woke up, but you had never been more grateful in your entire life

you owed you’re life to him

so you insisted on joining his crew, promising to repay him for saving your life, even though he assured you it wasn’t necessary

you stayed anyways of course

your relationship started out strictly professional

he was the captain, and you were the crewmate

you were friendly with each other of course, but that was the extent of it

over time, you grew closer

you started getting tasked with him with his personal tasks while he worked, allowing the two of you to spend a lot of time in each other’s company

eventually your simple conversations became staying for hours after all the work had been completed just so that you could continue talking

you bonded over similar interests and shared knowledge, realizing you had more in common than you initially thought

after that the years seemed to fly by, blossoming friendship getting stronger until you could practically read each other’s thoughts, and then one day it all became much bigger than either of you had anticipated

you have both somehow managed to fall in love with each other, and neither of you dared to speak a word of it to anyone, even yourselves

you’re too scared of being rejected and humiliated, and law is absolutely terrified of being in love at all

he has absolutely no idea how to handle his feelings, so instead he bottles them up and stores them away in the hopes that they’ll just vanish

they don’t vanish

instead they get bigger and bigger, until it’s all consuming and he can’t think of a single thing that is not you

meanwhile, you’re trying desperately to suppress your own feeling and failing miserably

the two of dance around each other, tension so thick it radiated to everyone else on the crew

you’re interactions become shorter, both of you unable to be in the presence of the other for too long before you felt like you were going to say something stupid

eventually it all reaches a peak, and while working in his office one night he can’t fight his impulses, so before he can overthink it he finally just kisses you

his kiss is heated and filled with a million emotions he doesn’t know how to express with words

your relationship remains the same outside of your shared privacy, so most of the crew doesn’t even know you guys are together for months

if anyone does pick up on it, it’s because both of you are in considerably better moods for weeks after your first kiss

he lets you paint his nails and do his eyeliner

gets really affectionate when he’s tired

he isn’t the best communicator, but you’re patient and he tries his best

law is somewhat experienced, only having been with a few women in the past, but it’s enough for him to know what he’s doing

he has no problem taking the reigns, and easily slips any semblance of control right out of your grasp

sex is either super soft and romantic or he’s really mean, depends on his mood

loves having his hands all over you whenever he can

also gets really cocky and his smile when he’s like that is deadly

doesn’t say it often, but makes sure to show you every day how much he absolutely adores you

he’s so in love with you it drives him a little crazy sometimes, but he doesn’t say that

instead he saves his smiles only for you, kisses every inch of your skin, and holds you impossibly close to him while he whispers sweet praises and confessions in your ear

when law does say “i love you”, he makes sure you know how much he means it

he cherishes your late night conversations, whispered beneath the sheets

while the crew does know of your relationship now, you still don’t really act like a couple at all in front of anyone else aside from very subtle things

you always make law coffee in the morning and he thanks you for it with a kiss to the cheek before getting breakfast

and he whispers things to you all the time, just wanting to share things with you even if he may not want to share them with the rest of the crew

your relationahip changes slightly you become his wife

he never really liked the idea of marriage, but with you, he’s open to anything that would make you happy

if you want to get married, that’s what will happen

the rings would be extremely simple, but engraved with something incredibly sweet to remind you of how much he loves you, even if he isn’t able to tell you so as often as he thinks he should

there wouldn’t be any ceremony, just the rings, but it’s enough for you

after that he’d be a bit more affectionate with you in front of the crew, the occasional peck, and domestic touches

it’s usually subconscious and goes unnoticed unless someone points it out

he can’t help himself, you’re his wife, and he’s surprised by how much he loves the new title on you

ace:

very flirty with you from the very beginning

compliments you all the time

thinks you’re the hottest person in the world and is very vocal about it

the two of you literally just flirt with each other like 24/7 but still say “we’re just friends”

pisses everyone else off

you know ace has a history with women, so you figured it was safe to assume that you simply followed that pattern

so the two of you go on like that for months, so obviously crazy about each other that it quickly becomes annoying to everyone around you

the solution? set you up, obviously

some of your crew mates make it their mission to finally get you two together

setting up romantic settings where the two of you just happen to be alone

pairing you up on chores and tasks

they may or may not lock the two of you together in a closet for like an hour

it only takes a few weeks to finally get you to crack

ace is a cocky bastard about it, but also literally bouncing off the walls because he’s wanted you for forever

he fell first, you fell harder type shit

huge dork

can be pretty childish sometimes, but in an endearing way

but he does know how to read the room and take things seriously when necessary

never fails to make you feel better if you’ve had a rough day

loves seeing you in his clothes !!!!

literally the biggest flirt and tease ever, no matter how long you’ve been together

very touchy and just wants to be close to you

despite the fiery passion woven through his personality, he kisses you like he has all the time in the world

extremely good kisser, and enjoys pulling away to watch you chase his lips and try to catch your breath wayyyyy too much

50% slutty and 50% the most romantic man on the planet

he’ll literally be making the most obscene noises in your ear and then say something so butterfly inducing and poetic that you feel like you could cry

very experienced, and it shows in everything he does

he knows exactly how to read what you need, and just what to do to have you a complete mess by the time he’s done with you

slutty waist 🗣️🗣️

king of the knee thing

loves when you give him hickeys too so he can show off that he’s yours

also pretty open about pda

he doesn’t like make out with you in the middle of a bar or anything, but he definitely does not shy away from showing you love just because there are people around either

your relationship is surprisingly mature, and you have really good communication

definitely would carry you on his back, shoulders, bridal style, or just pick you up and spin you around cause it makes you smile

if he proposes it would be planned, but not necessarily traditional or formal

he’d plan some sort of fun activity for the day, like a picnic or something, and then you turn around and he’s kneeling on the ground in front of you

would pick the PRETTIEST ring

he’d also be smiling like crazy through the entire proposal cause he wants to marry you right this second

as soon as the ring is on your finger he’s already making stupid jokes that have you rolling your eyes

would “elope” (unofficially) on an island and then see how long it takes for everyone to notice

possibly making a bet to see who catches on first

once the rest of the crew knows, he takes everyyyy opportunity to call you his wife or by his last name, and giggles like a kid every single time

asks are open!

[sooniebby]

The idea of a singer being a stalker instead of them being stalked is something that needs to explored more. Bonus, if the person being stalked isn’t particularly scared about it.

More specifically, the stalker being the reader. Bottom male reader.

A reader who’s always been watching his classmate since junior high school (middle school). The classmate wasn’t anyone special to others, average grades with average looks.

But you didn’t mind, him being average meant you didn’t have to fight for his attention. It was small things, just paying attention to his favorite foods and leaving them in his shoe locker.

Then slowly it blossomed. You made sure he got home safe. You found out what cram school he visited and made sure to leave snacks for him, can’t study on an empty stomach!

Increasingly, you noticed he began to get a bit paranoid, always looking behind himself. But he never made any effort to report you to the police or anything. Even when his friend suggested it at first, he practically shot it down fast.

However, after graduating to senior high school, you soon realized he wasn’t paranoid over you. He was getting bullied.

It didn’t take you long to handle it. Despite being a loner and a bit on the shorter side compared to the bully. There’s nothing a bully can do against castration. It’s quite easy to incapacitate someone who drinks a lot.

After, you expected him to act the same. And while he did—you noticed that he would look over at you in class. The first time it happened you practically had a panic attack and ran out of the classroom. He’s never looked at you at all despite the two of your being in the same class for four years straight.

You briefly wondered if he knew. Certainly acting like that would’ve confirmed his suspicions.

Luckily for you—he seemed to never look your way again. You’d know, you spend most of the day staring at him. When you finally graduated, you couldn’t be happy at all.

You’d failed to get into the university he applied to. Maybe you should’ve paid more attention to school. You were about to just come up with a back up plan when your sister said she wanted to go somewhere with you.

Just your luck, she tricked you in attending an audition at a music competition. You and her used to sing a lot as kids but you had stopped to focus on him. Of course, the devil was out to get you when you both managed to last until the final round.

Privacy wasn’t a thing for you after that. Your sister persuaded you to get signed at a company. Your parents as well since you technically had nothing else going for you—you did fail the exam for each college you tried at. (That was a lie, you had only applied to one)

Before you didn’t need to dress up to stalk him. You were pretty average as well—but now people recognized you. Especially because the company loved to advertise you as a “emo boy.” You took offense to that—just wearing black didn’t make you an emo.

But in any case, you had to start wearing clothes you wouldn’t be caught dead in. Watching him was harder this time… because he was surprising popular at his university. Everyone talked to him more often and invited him to hang out.

You didn’t understand, he didn’t change how he looked. In any case, you thought he was handsome first. You had dibs. It was getting increasingly difficult to just standby as men and women flirted with him.

Then your worst nightmare happened—he had a date. You stalked it, of course. Dressed in a bright pink shirt with white pants. Hair styled nicely compared to the mess you usually kept it. People really didn’t recognize you when you actually put effort into your looks.

You played with your knife as you watched them chat at the table across from you. The blade was too dull for your liking. Though you had only really used it to castrate that guy. And maybe… to scare off a few people in high school… but you’d never kill—seemed pointless.

As the date finally ended, you were pleased to see him turn down the girl’s offer to come to her place. You watched in satisfaction as she walked away dejectedly. She’s a pretty girl, she’ll find someone else.

You were too busy watching that you hadn’t even noticed someone behind you.

“I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Your body froze. You couldn’t move at all. A laugh left him as he tapped your shoulder.

“Are you going to run away again? I didn’t think you’d still stalk me after becoming a singer. You’re…”

You expected him to cuss you out but to your shock he said.

“Dedicated. Really dedicated. It’s cute.”

“A…what?” You whispered, slowly turning around to face him.

He was smiling at you. Smiling as if he was talking to a friend and not his stalker for over seven years. Was he insane?

Well you weren’t one to talk.

“Cute. I’m glad you didn’t run away this time. Here, gimme your LINE ID.” He said, pulling out his phone. You could only stare at him as he waved his phone. “C’mon, I’m speaking Japanese, yeah?”

“I… wait… are you—? Don’t you know I’ve been stalking you for almost eight years?”

“Mhm.”

“And that I almost followed you to your university? It wasn’t even a university I wanted to go, i don’t even know what I wanted, only if it had you.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you listening to me? I castrated a guy for you.”

“So that’s what you did… he wouldn’t tell me what happened at all,” he muttered, effectively ignoring everything else you did.

“….I followed you on a date, why aren’t you…” you couldn’t help yourself and grabbed his shirt, shaking him a bit. “This can’t be real. Why aren’t you scared?”

“You’re telling me things I already know.” He gazed down at you, his hand reached up and grasped the back of your head. “Why would I be scared if I liked it all?”

You blinked just as he kissed your cheek, a wide grin on his lips.

“You’ve watched me for this long,” he whispered, his hand slowly reaching down to grab your chin as he forced you to look up at him.

“But didn’t seem to notice that I was watching you too, (Name)-Chan.”

I’m bored so I made this longer than necessary. I always thought the idea of someone always having known they’re being stalked—making it easier for their stalker to learn stuff about them. That’s what he’s implying, btw. He didn’t stalk you, he just always noticed when you were watching him.

Reader isn’t a reliable narrator.

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @tehyunnie @iwishtobeacrow @chill-guy-but-cooler @star-3214 @remdayz @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @cherry-blossoms-187 @smellwell @euthymiko @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi @love-kha1 @secretivemessenger @mooncarvers-world @bensontrechic @yuzuukix @anchoredphoenix @roi-henri-xxii @m00n-b4b3 @ning1e

[dvrk-moon]

LOVE ME NOT - YANG JUNGWON

— synopsis: fake dating your enemy, yang jungwon, for the sake of getting your mutual friends to stop playing matchmaker is the worst idea you’ve ever heard in your life. however, it’s a bit more enticing when $100 is thrown in the mix.

— word count: 21k

— warnings: cursing, suggestive jokes, stupid teenager activities, classism

— featuring: ive wonyoung, bnd taesan, zb1 gyuvin, nwjns minji, + more 04 liner idols

— genre: enemies-to-lovers, fake dating, SLOW burn, jungwon x fem!reader, private high school au

— playlist: kiss with a fist - florence + the machine, r u mine - arctic monkeys, the way i loved you - taylor swift, you get me so high - arctic monkeys, norman fucking rockwell - lana del rey, make up your mind - florence + the machine (feat. fire burning - sean kingston, come on eileen - dexy’s midnight runners for part 17)

— a/n: lowkey so relieved this is over and finally written after FOREVER. in the same breath i am so sad because this fic has been in the works for years (at least 3) and to see it finally written is so bittersweet :( thank you to everyone who supported me while writing this !!! i love you all so much !!!

— taglist: @jwonistic @ilovejungwonandhaechan @wensurr @yyawnjun @slvtella @dimplewonie @ch4c0nnenh4

i. GOD-DAMN, MAN CHILD

The wind always blows when you don’t want it to.

At least, that’s what it feels like.

You were sat on a bench outside of the country club owned by your friend’s family. They were crazily wealthy, owning not only a country club but also many vacation homes and businesses. That was pretty much a given though, especially since you had met your friend at a private and prestigious academy. Everyone that attended the school was extremely well off in a sense. Most of the students had parents who were business owners, political figures, or even celebrities. To say that you were an outlier would be an understatement.

You didn’t come from wealth. In fact, you were one of the only students at your school to not come from wealth. You were offered a scholarship for your academics; last year, you had an opportunity from your old school to take a test that offered a scholarship to your current academy if you scored well. Only the top five scorers would be granted admission. You and four other students were awarded with the scholarship.

Unfortunately, that meant that you had left a completely different life behind. Your two best friends from childhood, Minji and Gyuvin, were both in support of your academic opportunity, but neither of them had passed the test, so you were left alone. A new, clean slate at a school where you knew next to no one.

Your new classmates made no effort to help you fit in. In fact, most of them ridiculed you for coming from a lower class. It was expected when mingling with snotty prep school kids, but it still hurt. The only person that hadn’t singled you out was Wonyoung.

She was easily the most popular girl there, but she still brought you under her wing. This caused the others to be slightly kinder to you, but only in her presence.

So here you were, sat on a bench, outside of her family’s country club, swinging your legs and glancing at the tennis court in front of you. It was late March, and though the weather reports had said that it would be nice enough outside to wear a skirt, your legs were cursing you because of the wind.

Wonyoung had gone inside temporarily to go fetch the two boys that you were going to play tennis with. She’d left about two minutes ago, telling you that she just had to run down to the entrance gate and she’d be back as soon as possible.

You fidgeted with the hem of the skirt you were wearing. It wasn’t even yours; it was Wonyoung’s, and she had let you borrow it for today. You laughed at yourself, because here you were, at a country club, yet the clothes you were wearing weren’t even yours. From an outsiders perspective, you seemed rich. Everyone else could tell the truth, though.

Another breeze passed by and you stood up, walking towards the door. You weren’t sure how much longer you’d have to wait, so you figured that you may as well wait inside.

As if on cue, Wonyoung exited the door with the two boys. You knew both of them from school. Honestly, you liked Wonyoung’s boyfriend. His name was Taesan. He was always nice to you, and never made you feel bad for being of a lower class.

The other boy, however, seemed to have a personal vendetta against you, and you had no idea why. He didn’t seem to like you from the first day you met, even though you’d been nice to him from the get-go. If you had to guess why he didn’t like you, it was probably for the same reason that none of your other peers seemed to like you: your wealth status.

Jungwon was his name, and aside from being a major jerk to you, he was extremely intelligent. Ever since you arrived at the school, you’d been one of the top ranked students. It made sense, too, as you were permitted into the school based on your academics. Jungwon was ranked second to you in most classes. You figured that could be another reason.

As soon as you met eyes with Jungwon, he rolled his own and shook his head. He was donned in the most prestigious tennis outfit you’d ever seen, which was saying a lot, given as this country club was flooded with rich and pretentious tennis players.

“Okay,” Wonyoung started, walking over to you, “now that we are all here, do you guys want to warm up?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon said, looking away from you, “let’s warm up.”

You didn’t miss how Jungwon slightly shoulder-checked you as he walked towards the tennis courts.

You entered the fenced-in courts, and another breeze blew in your direction. As a reaction, you shivered, making Wonyoung giggle as she made her way towards you.

“Sorry about the hold up,” she started, bouncing a tennis ball on the court, practicing her serving. She looked over at the other side of the court, where Jungwon and Taesan were situated. She laughed, “but those two were taking forever. They’re weird.” She offered you an apologetic smile.

“It’s fine,” you said, “I was just afraid you wouldn’t come back. I stick out like a sore thumb here.”

Wonyoung frowned, “No you don’t, Y/N. I don’t think a single person here batted an eye while I was gone.”

“You were gone,” you teased, “how would you know?”

“I know lots of things,” she commented, “I know lots and lots of things.”

You bounced the tennis ball on the court as you laughed at her words, “Whatever you say.”

After about five minutes of warming up and a dirty look exchanged with Jungwon later, Wonyoung announced, “Okay, let’s get to playing! Do we wanna do singles or doubles?”

“Let’s do doubles,” Taesan said, walking towards the net. He patted Jungwon on the back, “and Jungwon, you can be partners with Y/N. Is that okay with you guys?”

Wonyoung turned to you, “It’s fine with me as long as you’re okay with it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Taesan started walking over to Wonyoung, so you took that as your cue to go ahead and walk to the side Jungwon was on. Even though you knew Jungwon wasn’t your biggest fan, you still attempted formalities with him.

“Good luck,” you commented, looking at him. You sent him a little smile, “I’ll play to the best of my ability, but I don’t play often. So, sorry in advance.”

“I’m not surprised.” Jungwon replied under his breath, thinking that you wouldn’t hear. You decided to just ignore him and play to the best of your ability, like you said you would.

The first game started with Wonyoung serving and you receiving, but the first game was cut relatively short with an easy 40-15 that ended in your team’s loss.

The rest of the games of the first set ended very similarly, to no surprise. Wonyoung’s family owned the country club. Of course she would be good at the game.

So far, you and Jungwon had only won two sets out of the seven played. Wonyoung and Taesan only needed to win one more set to win the match.

Jungwon, quite obviously, was extremely frustrated at this loss. Very early on, you’d learned that he was a sore loser, and that you being bad at tennis definitely wasn’t helping soothe his anger.

After the final set that ended up in, surprise, a win for Wonyoung and Taesan, the two winners went to take a quick victory break while they left you and Jungwon to “discuss game strategies” as they phrased it.

In the three minutes that they’d been gone, no words were exchanged between you and Jungwon. He was just repeatedly slamming the tennis ball into the court and catching it when it bounced back. The air was tense, but you still tried to make conversation.

“Sorry about that.”

“Your horrible playing?” Jungwon snidely remarked, “Yeah. Thanks for the apology, but that doesn’t change that you’re making us lose.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “You’re acting like this is life or death. It’s just tennis.”

“Yeah, it may be just tennis to you. But some people, of… higher class… take it more seriously than people like you would. So I don’t expect you to understand.”

“People like me?!” You laughed incredulously, surprised at his audacity. You tried your best to keep your voice down to not draw any attention towards you two, but with his attitude, it was difficult.

“Yeah, people like you. Did I stutter?” He asked snarky.

Your words got caught in your mouth- most of the time when people were mean to you, you’d just either ask them what they said (even when you’d heard it) or you’d repeat what they said to you, and that usually made them back off. Clearly this wasn’t the case for Jungwon, though, as he was completely okay with repeating himself and not even thinking twice about what he said to you. You groaned, turning away from him, “You’re not nice.”

“And you’re bad at tennis.”

“At least I’m good at math…” you trailed off, semi-hoping that he wouldn’t hear. You were better than Jungwon when it came to math, and that was a sensitive topic for him. But, if he wanted to ridicule your tennis-playing skills, then you would ridicule his mathematical abilities.

The tennis ball that was being aggressively bounced into the court stopped. You didn’t need to look at Jungwon to know his eyes were boring holes into the back of your head.

“What did you say?” Jungwon seethed out, taking a step closer to you.

“Nothing…” you trailed off, facing him, “it’s just that… I don’t need to be good at tennis. I’m smart.”

“Psh.” Jungwon rolled his eyes at you, “At least my parents can pay for good schooling. Sucks that yours have to mooch off of a scholarship.”

You rolled your eyes back, very slightly raising your voice at him, “Yeah. Imagine your parents having to pay for the same schooling that I get. And I get it for free.”

Before any more words could be exchanged, Wonyoung and Taesan returned with canned drinks, one in each hand for the both of them and for you and Jungwon. Wonyoung smiled, “We brought you guys back something to drink!”

You felt most of your anger dissipate at Wonyoung’s return, smiling at her. She and Taesan entered the courts once again and you met her in the middle, “Thank you.”

“Of course. Taesan also brought something for Jungwon.”

You nodded as she handed you the beverage, cracking it open and taking a drink. The cold liquid felt like a good refresher to the heated argument that was just beginning to unfold minutes ago.

“I’m glad that you and Jungwon seem to be getting along.” Wonyoung commented, nearly making you choke on the drink. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ears, “You guys wouldn’t make a bad couple.”

ii. SO SIT BACK AND WATCH THE BED BURN

You rolled yourself across your twin-sized mattress as you turned to face your two best friends, Minji and Gyuvin. You’d called them over to your family’s apartment to catch up, which was a much needed occasion, as you three hadn’t had much time to talk recently.

Minji and Gyuvin had just entered your bedroom door and stepped into your room, which was littered in posters, pictures, and art. Your room had always been cluttered (or “used to its maximum capacity” as your mother liked to phrase it) like this so your best friends weren’t surprised at anything when they walked in.

“Thanks for knocking.” You sarcastically remarked, pushing yourself onto your forearms to look at them. You watched as your two friends made their ways to the area in front of the foot of your bed, and saw as Minji took a seat on the rug on your floor. Gyuvin opted to take your desk chair and roll it to sit next to Minji, yet be eye-level with you.

“You look stressed,” Gyuvin commented, teasing you, “but what else is new.”

You flopped your face into your bed and let out a muffled and sarcastic, “Ha, ha.”

You heard a smacking sound and then an “Ow!” from Gyuvin. Minji stood up and made you scoot over so she could lay next to you in your bed, “Ignore him. His panties are in a twist right now for some reason.”

You turned your head to the left to look at her for a moment before dramatically flopping back into the mattress.

Minji patted your head, “What’s wrong, Y/N? You’re not usually this dramatic when we come over.”

Gyuvin stifled a laugh before quieting as soon as Minji sent him a pointed look.

You dramatically rolled over to face the ceiling of your room, “Why are boys so horrible?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you have a crush,” Minji groaned, “I’m no good with those.”

“No, no!” You rushed to correct her, not missing how Gyuvin was taunting in the mean time. He sung, “Ooh~ Y/N has a crush!”

“He is not a crush! He’s the worst person I’ve ever met!”

“Come on, Y/N,” Minji poked you, “he can’t be the worst person you’ve ever met. Think about Gyuvin!”

You rolled your eyes at Gyuvin, who was still taunting you with his song, “Gyuvin, shut the hell up!”

You watched as Minji lifted a hand that threatened to fall onto Gyuvin’s exposed thigh, and to which Gyuvin immediately shut up.

“What guy are you talking about?” Minji asked, looking back down at you.

“He’s this guy from the new school. He’s such an asshole to me for no reason. I mean, there might be a reason, but I can’t think of a valid one.”

“What does he do?” Gyuvin pitched in, finally getting his attention piqued from the conversation at hand.

“Like, everything?” You let out, “I’m not even sure where to start.”

“Saying ‘everything’ gives us no idea what this guy does, Y/N.”

You groaned dramatically before filling your friends in on the entire situation with Jungwon:

“I haven’t really told you guys about this guy before,” you started, using your hands to explain your story. Minji nodded as you told your story, while Gyuvin was spinning in his chair endlessly. You continued, “but there’s a guy at the new school, his name is Jungwon. Yang Jungwon.”

“Yang Y/N~” Gyuvin teased. Minji reached over to harshly smack his leg.

You rolled your eyes, “Anyways, he’s basically the worst person I’ve ever met. His dad runs a corporation of local gas stations, so he’s basically filthy rich. I say this because not only is he like every other private school kid that makes fun of my wealth status, but he’s also threatened to sue my parents multiple times. Most of the time he has no reason.

“The reason I’m so particularly upset about him is because I went to my school friends’ country club. You guys remember Wonyoung?” They both nodded, because as Wonyoung was your closest private school friend, of course your actual closest friends knew about her existence.

“Okay,” you said, “so we were at her country club, but her boyfriend and his friend are also there, and you’ll never guess who the friend is! Jungwon!

“He’s an ass to me basically the whole time while I’ve been trying to be nice to him,” you sighed, “I don’t know what his problem is. I didn’t even do anything to him. Anyways, we were partnered up because we were playing doubles tennis at the country club, because Wonyoung wanted to be on the same team as her boyfriend. That’s understandable, and I haven’t held it against her or anything. But he is not only a sore loser, but just a jerk to me.”

Minji nodded in sympathy at you while Gyuvin made his presence known, “Kill him. Easy as that.”

“You’re sick in the head, you know that?” MInji questioned him.

“He’s a private school kid, Y/N.” Gyuvin said, standing up from the chair to stand over you. “I really don’t know what you’re expecting from someone like him. He’s probably never been told ‘No’ in his life.”

“I’m also a private school kid…” you murmured.

“Yeah, but you weren’t brought up that way. He undoubtedly was.” Gyuvin said.

You nodded, “You’re right.”

“Always am.”

“The problem is that it’s my senior year,” you lamented, “and I don’t want it to be bad just because some pest can’t leave me alone. I just don’t know how to get rid of him.”

“You could always drop out.” Gyuvin offered, going to sit back down in the chair.

“That’s a horrible idea,” Minji said, “don’t listen to him. I’m sure that as long as you don’t pay much mind to this Jungwon guy then you’ll be fine. Plus, you have Wonyoung. They’re basically the same height, and she could probably beat him in a fight.”

You laughed, “I don’t know, I like Wonyoung a lot, but she’s basically Ivy Hills royalty. She has a reputation to manage. I’m sure fighting with Jungwon wouldn’t do her much good.”

“I would pay money to see that fight.” Gyuvin announced.

“You’re weird.”

“My mind is an enigma. I wouldn’t expect commonfolk like you to understand.”

iii. JUST SO FRUSTRATING

The halls of Ivy Hills Private Academy never failed to make your head hurt.

The utter abundance of students flooding the halls and blocking every locker at 7:30am was absolutely astounding to you. Not one person there paid any mind to you, and if by chance they did, it was a slight shove or a snarky comment. The bright, fluorescent lights surely didn’t help. You tried your hardest to blend into the background, but even though you were donned in the same uniform as all your peers, somehow you still stuck out like a sore thumb to them. It was almost like they could feel your class difference radiating off of you.

Wonyoung was one of the only people who made you feel normal. The only way that others would treat you kindly was if she was also present, since she was basically the school’s princess. You had just received a text from her that read:

good morning !! do you wanna get some food this weekend? it’s on me :)

You had no idea what your plans were for the weekend; it was only Tuesday after all. But you were sure that as long as you weren’t scheduled to work, you’d be doing nothing else. Besides, Wonyoung was always great to be around. You had yet to respond to her text, needing to not only check your schedule but also run the plans by your parents before you acted on anything. They really liked Wonyoung, so you doubted there would be a problem, but it was always best to check.

You sighed, tucking your phone into your bag while walking to your locker. You were mandated to keep your phone stowed away somewhere, and as a student at the school with a scholarship, you wanted to abide by any rules. You couldn’t risk the possibility of getting the scholarship pulled from you; you didn’t have the privilege to keep the school quiet with monetary bribes like others did. You snapped out of your train of thought and started to unlock your locker to put the majority of your textbooks away. The first class on your schedule was AP Calculus BC, one of the tougher classes at Ivy Hills, but you found it relatively easy.

Of course, it was one of the classes you shared with Jungwon.

It would be okay. You’d just do your best to not get into any quarrels with him.

You left your locker and walked quickly to your Calculus class, wasting no time to converse with others or engage in any sort of interaction with them. The Calculus class was only a hallway down from your locker, but it would still be difficult to get in there quickly with the amount of students crowding the halls. You cradled your school bag in your arms and tried your best to not run into anyone.

The AP Calculus BC teacher was possibly the stingiest educator you’d ever witnessed. She refused to let people turn anything in late, she refused to give extensions, and she refused to accept wrong answers. You’d learned this very early on in her class; one of your female peers forgot to turn her homework packet until the end of the bell, and your teacher almost didn’t even let her turn it in. You were sure she only let the girl turn it in due to the amount of points the packet was worth, and a lack of turning it in would surely result in a failing grade in the class.

You quickly found your assigned seat near the window on the far wall. The sun was still rising above the horizon, and your window seat gave a beautiful view of the sight. The sunlight spilled into the room like a calm water fountain, leaving you smiling without realizing.

Sitting down at your desk, you placed your bag to the right of your seat and opened it to pull out your binder, textbook, calculator, and a pencil. You usually opted to use mechanical pencils, but they’d all somehow gone missing, so you were forced to use a wooden one. You grabbed your pencil sharpener from your bag just to be safe.

As you lifted your head back up, you saw a face that nearly made you jump. It was Yang Jungwon, who happened to have an assigned seat right next to you in this class. Just your luck. It made sense, having the two smartest people in the class next to each other. Your teacher didn’t have to worry about any cheating on tests, at the very least.

Jungwon had one strap of his backpack looped around his right shoulder and the left side was just hanging. He was talking with some friends. You didn’t know their names, yet you were positive that they’d at least called you ‘poor’ once before. Not surprising coming from friends of Jungwon.

You started pulling out a work packet from your binder and flipped to the page in the textbook that the teacher had written on the board: 295. Sure, class hadn’t started yet, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t get ready for it to start. You were eager to finish this last unit; the last month or so of class would be spent reviewing for the AP test. You were nearly positive you’d receive a score of five.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Jungwon make his way to his desk, the one to your right. He sneered at your presence, “Already got your stuff out, huh? God, what a nerd.”

Rolling your eyes, you responded, “Thanks. We’re in the same class so that also makes you a nerd.”

“There’s still time until class starts,” he said, “no need to get your stuff out ten minutes early.”

“No need to be a prick ten minutes early. Come bother me during school hours, Jungwon. Give me my ten minutes of peace while I still have them.”

Surprisingly to you, he turned away and stopped himself from snapping back.

Your ten minutes of peace quickly felt like thirty seconds when Jungwon returned to his seat at the beginning of class.

Your teacher had immediately tasked you and your classmates with pairing up with the four people closest to you; your group was you, Jungwon, a girl named Sull Yoona, and another boy named Leehan. The aforementioned two weren’t the kindest to you, but when compared with how Jungwon treated you, you were a dutchess. The groups were assigned to work on the work packet and solve fifteen problems by the end of the class period, which was roughly an hour away. You dreaded what was to come, but sucked it up. Yoona and Leehan were smart enough. Plus, conversations would be minimal anyways.

The answers you all shared majorly coincided with one another, yet there was one — problem 13 — where Jungwon and Leehan got a different answer, and refused to change their answers to fit yours. You didn’t care too much, you were sure that your and Yoona’s answer was the correct one.

“Jungwon,” you tried to reason, “the question isn’t asking for the distance traveled. It’s asking for the displacement.”

“I’m not listening to you, Y/N.” He huffed, “You tried to tell us that the last question’s answer was that the limit does not exist.”

“Okay,” you admitted, “I made a calculation error. But I’m sure that I’m right about this one.”

“I don’t care. We’ll see who’s right at the end of class.”

Another fifteen minutes passed and there was ten minutes left of class, and as most of your classmates had finished, your teacher called on a different group for each problem to answer and explain how they got what they did.

When the teacher got to question 13, it was your group’s turn to answer. Jungwon immediately stepped up to the question. His answer, which he announced confidently, was “8 meters”.

Your teacher frowned at Jungwon, “That is not the correct answer. Can someone else from the group answer differently? And maybe correctly this time? How about Y/N?”

You smiled at your teacher, “I got -5 1/3 meters.”

“That is correct. Thank you, Y/N.”

You didn’t miss how Jungwon gave you a nasty side eye when you answered correctly. The teacher quickly moved onto the next group with question 14.

Wanting to push his buttons slightly more, you leaned to your right and whispered, “I hope you realize I got into this school for a reason.”

iv. YOU CALL THE SHOTS

It was now Saturday: the day that Wonyoung had asked you to get food with her. Over the week you’d agreed to go get lunch with her on Saturday, and decided on a locally owned Italian restaurant to eat at.

It was a complete shock to you to find out that Taesan and Jungwon were also going to be at this lunch.

Wonyoung didn’t tell you, and you were sure there was no malicious intent, but the irony of this happening to you twice was slowly chipping away at your sanity.

When you arrived at the restaurant to find Jungwon and Taesan already waiting for you two, you fought every urge in your body to roll your eyes at Jungwon’s presence.

“You’re here!” Taesan called once he laid his eyes on Wonyoung. He embraced her quickly before turning to you, “Hello, Y/N. Great seeing you too.” There were no hints of sarcasm in his words, but you weren’t sure how great you felt seeing him. Not like you hated Taesan, but the growth that followed him around (Jungwon) definitely didn’t make you happy.

As if on cue, the host came back with menus and led the four of you to your table. When Wonyoung had mentioned food, you made the wrong assumption of going somewhere casual; the fact that Wonyoung was filthy rich somehow slipped your mind. There was no way you could afford most of the items they sold here, but since Wonyoung was paying, you let yourself relax a bit.

Wonyoung and Taesan were the two that are following closest behind the host, leaving you and Jungwon to be the last two in the group. You tried your best to slightly trail behind him, not wanting any altercations (especially in front of Wonyoung), but to your dismay, Jungwon had other plans in mind.

He slowed his pace just slightly to make a little snarky remark, “I hope you know that if Wonyoung wasn’t your wallet, you’d never step foot in any place like this.”

His words hurt, but it wasn’t anything that you weren’t already used to. You ignored him and picked up your pace slightly.

When you reached the table, Wonyoung and Taesan (unsurprisingly) chose to sit next to each other, leaving you and Jungwon to occupy the remaining seats. You braced yourself for what you thought would be a peaceful lunch turning into a living Hell.

Lunch, shockingly, went a lot smoother than you had anticipated it would be. Jungwon mostly kept his comments under wraps, and nothing he said was hurtful enough to actually provoke you into retorting with something potentially worse.

Near the end of the meal, Wonyoung excused herself to go to the bathroom. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity to finally be able to talk to her without the boys around, you leapt up and joined her.

Once in the bathroom, Wonyoung immediately went into a stall while you stood in front of the luxurious sink. You adjusted your clothes and some of your makeup while she occupied herself.

Once the toilet flushed and you were sure there wasn’t anyone else in the bathroom, you spoke up and finally popped a question to Wonyoung:

“Can I ask you something?”

Wonyoung emerged from the stall and walked to the sink next to the one you occupied. She turned on the water, “Sure, what’s up?���

“How come you haven’t been telling me when Jungwon and Taesan will be joining us at stuff? I don’t mind it all too much, but I feel like I’m being led into it blindfolded instead.”

“Oh, I-” she stopped herself, an indecipherable look on her face. She finished washing her hands and turned to you, “I’m sorry about not telling you, first of all. I’ll make sure to be more transparent about it in the future.”

“Thank you,” you said, “but my question is why are they there all the time? I understand Taesan; that’s your boyfriend. But Jungwon and I have no relation outside of being the assumed valedictorian and salutatorian of our graduating class.”

“Well,” Wonyoung smiled, “Taesan and I just think you guys are so cute together. Like, not only are you both geniuses, but you’re also both Taesan’s and my respective closest friends!”

You tilted your head, wanting her to continue.

“Listen, Y/N.” She grabbed your hand, her cold and dainty hands wrapping themselves around your right one. She smiled genuinely, “You’ve just been able to help me so much, so I want to return the favor! You deserve someone like Jungwon. He’s smart, he’s a gentleman, his dad has a lot of power, he’s athletic.”

You pursed your lips at her.

“Plus,” she continued, “with you two being the most intelligent students in the school, can you imagine the cute study dates? I’m just getting giddy thinking about it!!”

“Wonyoung…” you started carefully, “I think I’m okay. I should probably worry more about school than any potential relationship right now anyways.”

“If you say so,” Wonyoung removed her hands from yours, “but I’m still rooting for this. The second you tell me to back off, I will, but for now, Taesan and I are going to try to help you two from the sidelines.”

v. HOPE YOU DON’T REGRET IT

The following day, you, Minji, and Gyuvin were all situated at Minji’s house, in her living room. Minji was sitting in an armchair, Gyuvin was on the sofa, and you were sprawled out on the floor, in yet another dramatic mood.

You recapped your two best friends on the incidental Saturday lunch, not missing any details. Starting from the presence of Jungwon, and especially up to the comment Wonyoung made about you two getting together. The whole entire story was crazy to you and reliving it through your storytelling made you almost shiver in fear.

“And she went, ‘we will help you from the sidelines’,” you lamented, “like who says that?! I get that she has no idea about the rivalry, but he and I aren’t even cute together. He’s short.”

Gyuvin let out a hearty laugh at your comment, “Y/N, if he’s short, then you are also short.”

“Besides the point!”

“Your life does not even sound real,” Minji said, “and it’s so hard to not laugh, I’m sorry.”

You groaned from your spot on the floor, sending Minji a side eye, “Is my life some joke to you two?!”

“A little bit.” Gyuvin laughed out.

You rolled your eyes and flipped over onto your stomach, “This is so not funny.”

“Have you thought about just telling Wonyoung to back off?” Minji asked.

“Yeah, I have, thanks.” You replied to her sarcastically. You craned your neck to look at your best friend, “I haven’t done it because I know for a fact she would ask why. And I don’t wanna get into all of that, especially because her boyfriend is best friends with the devil in question.”

Minji snorted, “You two should just fake date. That’d get Wonyoung to back off.”

You immediately sat up, “Are you crazy?! Absolutely not!”

Gyuvin agreed from his spot, “Minji has a point. Maybe you two could even become friends along the way.”

Shaking your head profusely, you shot a look at Gyuvin, then at Minji, “You guys are crazy.”

“What if,” Minji proposed, “you did it for money? You just told us about how your workplace is shutting down. Plus, you need the money. You’re broke as fuck.”

“Ouch.”

“She’s right, I hate to admit it.” Gyuvin said, shrugging.

“Oh, absolutely not. I may be broke but not broke enough to date Yang Jungwon, even if it’s fake.”

“How about this?” Gyuvin challenged, “If you can successfully fake date this guy until your pretentious-ass Ivy Hills Ball dance in a couple weeks, I’ll give you $50. But only if you also go to the dance with him.”

“It’s like you want me to kill myself.”

“I’ll also give you $50.” Minji said, raising her eyebrows.

The Ivy Hills Ball dance was essentially a more talked-up prom, but from what you’d heard, it was held in an old music hall and the funding was insane. To have that experience be ruined by having Jungwon as a date did not sound enticing in the slightest, but $100 dollars did.

Plus, Gyuvin was right. It would only be a couple weeks.

“You guys drive a hard fucking bargain, I hate you two.”

“Damn,” Gyuvin laughed, “your ass really is broke. $100 to date your alleged enemy, and you’re sold.”

“I haven’t agreed!” You reasoned, trying to defend yourself.

“We both know you will, Y/N.” Minji cocked an eyebrow.

“I really, really hate you two.”

vi. YOU GAVE A KICK, I GAVE A SLAP

Any consideration you had towards fake dating Jungwon was almost thrown out the window on the next Wednesday.

It was your AP Physics bell, which, surprise, was shared with Jungwon.

After almost trying to embarrass you in front of the class (yet luckily failing), you had to fight every urge inside to not curse him out right in that moment.

You breathed heavily out at him, “Jungwon, if you keep bothering Hanni and I, we’ll never finish this lab. And neither will you.”

“You say that like you’re smart enough to finish this lab even if I wasn’t bothering you.”

You didn’t miss how Hanni immediately widened her eyes and focused her attention back onto her lab notebook. Other classmates’ attention was caught from Jungwon’s loud comment, making your face flush a bright red.

Breathing out heavily, you sent Jungwon the most nasty look you could muster. Blinking once at him, “Shut up, Yang. Shut up for once in your goddamn life.”

Jungwon cocked an eyebrow at you, slightly smirking. He placed down his pencil, “Why don’t you make me?”

You started at him, not breaking eye contact. Of course you couldn’t ‘make him’ shut up, but that wouldn’t stop you from trying to kill him with your gaze.

“That’s what I thought,” he remarked, “all bark but no bite. Typical Y/N.”

“You’re the worst person I’ve ever met.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

vii. AND I CAN’T LOOK YOU IN THE EYES

The following weekend, you found yourself at Wonyoung’s mansion with Taesan and Jungwon. This time, Wonyoung had warned you that Jungwon and Taesan would be present, yet you still decided to go. Because who was Yang Jungwon to dictate when you could and couldn’t hang out with Wonyoung?

Wonyoung had recently opened her pool back up and invited the three of you over to be the first to swim in it. You happily accepted, having no other plans for the day and promising yourself that you wouldn’t let Jungwon’s presence bother you.

While in the pool, you kept letting your mind drift to the bet that Minji and Gyuvin had proposed to you earlier that week. The $100 sounded really appealing, and potentially getting Wonyoung off your back about getting you and Jungwon together would also be nice.

Noticing your distancing, Wonyoung swam up to you, “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at her, “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine, just thinking.”

She nodded at you while you pondered whether taking a break inside would be good to clear your mind for the time being. You decided that at the moment, that seemed best. You spoke again, “Actually, I think I’m gonna go inside to get a drink. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, “of course. Make sure to dry off well before you go in though.”

You nodded at her, watching her swim away back to Taesan while you swam to the pool steps and got out. You quickly found your towel and sandals, then went to the door that led back into the house.

You wrapped the towel around your shoulders and dried your feet on the bath mat that the Jangs had outside their home. Opening the door, you took one last look at the three in the pool, accidentally locking eyes with Jungwon. You furrowed your eyebrows and entered the house.

You entered the house of your friend and approached the kitchen where there was lemon water waiting in a pitcher. Of course, the rich family drank lemon water. You put ice into your newly found cup and sighed. While pouring yourself a glass, you heard the back door open and close again, signifying someone was also coming inside the house. You hoped it was Wonyoung, or even Taesan, but you were disappointed when you saw Jungwon’s figure walk towards the kitchen.

At his presence, your mind came back to the bet. You really needed the money right now, and getting Wonyoung off your back about him would also be a major plus.

Jungwon strode his way into the kitchen, passing you to grab a can of what appeared to be some seltzer water. His hair was still wet and his body was damp, him having done an obviously half-assed job at drying himself off. His towel was wrapped around his waist, but what drew you in was his body. Had he always had this attractive of a figure?

“I think you have a staring problem.” He said, smirking at you and making you snap out of your daze. You cleared your throat and felt heat rise to your cheeks.

“I don’t,” you clarified, “I was just… spacing out.”

“Sure.”

A layer of silence fell over the two of you, you avoiding looking at Jungwon in order to not inflate his ego any further. Your mind went back to the bet. Would this be an appropriate time?

You quickly decided, fuck it, and cleared your throat once more to get his attention, “Jungwon.”

He rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated breath through his nose, but answered, “What?”

“I, um,” you tried to find the words, “I have a really.. interesting.. hypothetical for you. Could be good, could be bad, just- a hypothetical.”

He raised an eyebrow at you questioningly, “Go on…”

“So,” you got a hold of yourself finally. This was just Jungwon you were talking to; if he declined your suggestion to the bet, you’d live. You looked at him, “I can’t be the only one that’s being bothered by Wonyoung and Taesan about the two of us getting together, right?”

Jungwon paused but then answered, “You aren’t.”

“Okay,” you continued, “so I recently saw some of my closest friends and they know about the whole thing. They came up with the proposal for you and I to fake date. Before you say anything, I’m not exactly thrilled either, but I think it would work. I’m sure you’re not too happy to be forced to be around me all the time either.”

“I feel like there’s an ulterior motive here,” Jungwon replied, “so tell me what it is you’re gaining out of this.”

“Getting Wonyoung off my back, of course. I also may be getting paid $100 by my friends to fake date you.”

“Why would you be getting paid?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“They know we don’t like each other, so they think it’s funny. They said if we successfully date until the dance, I’ll get the money.”

“This sounds really stupid.” Jungwon said, disgusted.

“I’ll give you half the money,” you offered, “I promise.”

Jungwon scoffed, “You think I need the money? Funny joke.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, rich boy,” you started walking back towards the door that went to the pool, “whatever. As long as you’re fine with Wonyoung and Taesan never leaving us alone, then suit yourself.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning over your shoulder to finish your ment:

“I didn’t expect you of all people to say yes, anyway.”

You watched as Jungwon cocked an eyebrow, his tongue prodding his cheek. He swallowed, taking quick steps toward you before you could open the door.

“Y/N,” he said, suddenly sounding challenged, “wait. Let’s discuss this.”

viii. IT’S JUST WHAT YOU DO

The following Monday, you were sat next to Jungwon in your Calculus class, supposedly listening to a lecture. Having not discussed the concrete rules with Jungwon yet, you decided that passing him a note to ask about if talking them through after class would be alright with him.

You ripped a corner off of your notebook paper and quickly scribbled down:

Hey. Do u wanna discuss the rules after class?

As discreetly as possible, you tapped Jungwon on the sleeve of his uniform and when he turned his head, you handed him the note. He gave you a wide-eyed look but grabbed the paper anyway.

You turned your head back to your teacher, but moments later your attention was taken by Jungwon, who had tapped on your arm instead this time. You read his handwriting:

What rules

Was he dumb? How he could be so good at math but so socially unaware was astonishing to you.

You flipped the small piece of paper once and wrote your response:

For fake dating? We need to establish rules. Unless you’ve already chickened out …

You passed the slip back to Jungwon.

Within seconds, he handed the paper back to you. His response read:

I didn’t chicken out. We don’t have much time between classes but as long as you’re fine walking the same way as me we can do it then. Make it quick though. I don’t want to be seen with you if I don’t have to be.

You stifled a laugh, and quickly wrote back:

You agreed to this, man. You’re gonna have to get used to being seen with me anyways

Jungwon read your written message and rolled his eyes. He crumpled the paper up and shoved it somewhere in his bag, never to be seen again.

Minutes later, the bell rang. You packed up your items and waited for Jungwon to finish packing his up so you could leave the class. Once finished, he started, “So?”

“Let’s walk and talk,” you said, leading the way. Jungwon was quickly on your heels. You shrugged, “the hallways will be too loud for people to overhear anyway.”

Jungwon nodded and speedily made his way next to your side in the hallway. You were right, not only was it loud, but no one would be paying any mind to you two anyway. At least hopefully.

“First off, if anyone asks, from this moment on, you and I are dating, okay?”

Jungwon breathed out a little sigh and pursed his lips, “Yep. Let’s get onto the rules now. We’ve only got so much time.”

“Okay,” you started, “first rule: this only goes until the dance. We’ll go to the dance as each other’s dates, and after that, we can ‘break up’.”

For once in his life, Jungwon agreed with you, “Sounds fine to me.”

“Great. Have any ideas for rule two?”

“Uh…” he paused, trailing off in thought. “Hm. Who is allowed to know that we’re fake dating?”

“I mean, ideally no one. But because my two other friends know, I feel like as long as it’s someone you trust that’s not close with Wonyoung or Taesan then it should be fine for you to tell them. I can’t control what you do, though, so do whatever you want, I guess.”

“Okay,” he said, “so rule two: keep it on the down-low.”

You nodded your head at him, “I have a suggestion for rule three.”

“Go ahead.”

“We can do some PDA, but kissing is unnecessary.”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay,” you continued, “rule four: if we need to ‘break up’ for any serious reason before the dance, that’s okay. We just need to let the other person know before we stage a break up.”

Jungwon nodded again, then turned his head to the left, “My class is over this way. We can message later about this.”

“Okay, see you.”

Jungwon walked into the classroom on the left and within moments, Wonyoung made her way to your side.

“Where did you come from?” You asked, surprised at her presence.

“I was walking behind you this whole time. Since when did you start going this way?”

You shrugged, “Since now.”

She painted a cheeky smile on her face, “And?”

“And what?”

“Don’t think I didn’t see you walking with Jungwon, Y/N! What was that about?!”

You feigned innocence, “Oh, nothing. Y’know.”

“I don’t,” she said, smiling widely, “I really don’t. Spill.”

“Well,” you replied, “I dunno, what do you think?”

“I think you two should date.”

You offered no response and just let your face form into a smile. Wonyoung’s eyes widened at you, “Y/N L/N. Don’t tell me.”

“Tell you what?” You responded with a smirk.

“There’s no way!” She freaked out, “You guys are dating?!”

“Possibly.”

“Y/N! I’m so happy!” Wonyoung smiled at you and grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. This was the most excited you’d ever seen her.

“I am too.” You said, “Could you maybe keep it on the down-low for now though? It’s really new.”

“Yeah, of course! Can I tell Taesan?”

“Go ahead, yeah,” you smiled at her, “I think he’d be pretty stoked too.”

Wonyoung pulled out her phone to text her boyfriend and a small silence settled between you two. Wonyoung was the first to break the silence once she sent the message:

“So, I was right about you two being cute together.”

You laughed, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Wonyoung.”

ix. MAKE UP YOUR MIND

It was already a week and a half into the fake relationship and you felt like your sanity was slowly slipping away from you.

Jungwon played soccer all year long, you’d learned, and you’d started going to his games and practices. Aside from the practices as a whole being excruciatingly boring, the games weren’t bad at all. You had to admit, Jungwon was good at what he did. He had four practices during the week and two on the weekend. In the time since you’d started going to see Jungwon outside of school hours, you’d learned that he could be tolerable sometimes. Emphasis on ‘sometimes’.

You’d also learned that he was a very good actor. His teammates immediately accepted you as Jungwon’s girlfriend, and as a result, you’d earned an honorific position on the team.

It definitely helped that you could make small talk and pre-event plans when Jungwon drove you places in his expensive car. His car was probably more expensive than your family’s whole apartment.

But here you were, sitting on the bleachers at around 7pm on Tuesday night, watching Jungwon and his teammates practice. There were only about fifteen minutes left of practice, and then you were free to go home and potentially regret every decision you’d ever made.

The bright lights of the field were giving you a headache and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to handle this. You took a look at where Jungwon was located on the field, taking note of his focused face as he listened to his coach. Jungwon was one of the better players on the team, and it was evident to you because of the way he talked so passionately about the game. You hated to admit, but it was nice to see him talk so fondly about something for once rather than make unprovoked mean comments towards you.

Around five minutes later, Jungwon and the team suddenly dispersed from their coach and walked towards their bags. You rested your chin on your hand and watched his figure start making its way towards you. He slung his bag over his shoulder and jogged slowly to your spot on the bleachers.

Once he reached the barrier between you and the field, he sighed, “Hey.”

“Hi,” you said, “how was practice?”

Ever since you’d started ‘dating’ Jungwon, you’d made a point to try (at the very least) to be kind to him, even if it wasn’t in front of other people. You hoped that maybe through being kind to him, it might make him be kind back. Hopefully that would make the whole fake dating process a whole lot easier.

“It was fine,” he was short with his answer, yet not necessarily cold for once, “I’m tired.”

“You look like it.” You stood up from your spot on the bleachers and walked towards the barrier to meet Jungwon in the middle.

He checked his watch, “It’s good that we got out early. I have a shit ton of Calc work to do.”

Walking out from behind the barrier, you met Jungwon. He started walking to his car and you quickly followed.

“The packet?” You questioned, picking up the pace to match with his.

You and all your classmates had your work packet that was due the following day, which was Friday. You had already finished the packet a couple days ago and had turned it into your teacher, wanting to get it off of your mind if it was out of your sight.

“Yeah,” he said, “do you have the answers?”

“I don’t have them, no,” you admitted, “I already turned my packet.”

“Shit,” he quietly exclaimed, “I don’t know how to do most of them.”

“Oh,” you replied, “I do. I’m sorry that I don’t have answers.”

“It’s fine,” he rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, it looked like Jungwon got an idea.

He turned to you, “Wait. Are you doing anything after this?”

You racked your brain to think of anything, but nothing came to mind. You turned to look at him, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Do you wanna come over and help me?”

“To your house?” You questioned.

“Yeah,” he said, confused, “where else?”

“Oh,” you said, surprised, “are you sure you’d want me there?”

“It’s fine,” he replied, “it’s just this once.”

“I mean I guess so…” you pondered, “I don’t know. It’s a school night.”

Jungwon checked his watch again, “It’s only 7:09, I don’t think it should be too bad. Unless you have a curfew?”

“I don’t…” you admitted, “I guess I could help you. But I don’t want to make you drive me there and then have to drive me all the way back home. You already picked me up, plus it’s out of the way for you.”

“Consider me driving you as a payment for you helping me… I really need the help, and would appreciate it. You’re smart.”

For the first time ever, Jungwon complimented you. It left you in a state of shock, to put it simply; you had never expected to hear Jungwon compliment you, even while fake dating.

“Thanks,” you said, “I’ll help you.”

He said nothing more as the two of you finally reached his car. He loaded his soccer bag into the back of the car and opened the drivers side door, beckoning for you to do the same.

“I don’t live far from here,” he started the car, “so it’ll be a quick drive.”

You nodded in your spot while Jungwon reversed out of his parking spot. He shifted the car into drive and quickly pulled out of the school parking lot.

Like Jungwon said, the drive was extremely quick. It was only around three minutes, so Jungwon didn’t even bother putting on the radio. He opted instead to roll down the window and not speak.

You really shouldn’t have been surprised by Jungwon’s family estate. Given just by how much money his car seemed to cost, the grandeur of his home should not have come as a shock to you. But it still did.

The gate at the beginning of the driveway seemed inviting; it looked purposefully worn down. The somewhat dingy look of something that was probably not even a year old welcomed you in, in a sense.

The driveway looked freshly paved, the black color not ever changing from erosion. There wasn’t a single crack in the pavement, and it was lined with white pillars that had lamp light illuminating from the top.

Further up the driveway, you could see four other cars. Thinking about the total cost of all the vehicles combined sent a shiver down your spine.

The house itself, which was to the left, could barely even get by being called a “house”. It was easily more than ten times the size of your family’s apartment, and if not for the trees that surrounded it, you’d assume it was a lot taller than it actually was.

The brick was white and the front of the house had pillars driving up and down to support a black roof. The lights in the house were off, giving a stark contrast to the otherwise homely feel of the entrance.

Jungwon pulled the car into the parking spot closest to the house. Once parked, he loaded himself out and went to the back seat to grab his soccer gear.

“No one’s home but us,” he said, “but my parents have cameras everywhere, so we’ll go through the garage. Leave your shoes on the doormat.”

Jungwon led you through the garage, then into the large kitchen, followed by a large living space. He then flipped on a light switch and walked you to the foyer, which was a high-ceilinged room with white walls and stairs that cascaded towards the second floor. The balcony of the second floor overlooked the foyer, and there was a large chandelier hung at the top of the ceiling.

Jungwon beckoned you towards the hardwood steps, “My room’s upstairs.”

Your attention was brought away from the chandelier and you followed as Jungwon ascended the steps towards his room. At the top of the steps, there was a hallway that extended both left and right, and there was also the other side of the balcony.

This side of the balcony overlooked a different living space, but you didn’t get a good look at it before Jungwon tried to disappear out of your sight towards the right hand side of the hallway.

He passed by a few rooms with closed doors before opening the door to the final one on the right. Jungwon walked in first and left the door open for you to enter.

His room was just as large as you anticipated it to be, with large windows on two sides of the room and a king-sized mattress in the corner of the space. You bit back any comments about the size of his bed; he was a short man, why did he need that much space?

Jungwon turned on the lamp next to his bed and dropped his soccer bags at the foot of the bedframe. His backpack was lying right in front of the bedside table, already opened. You could assume that he’d already tried to start the Calculus work yet failed. Hence why you’d needed to come over to help.

Jungwon sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his backpack onto it. You stood very awkwardly in front of him, not sure what to do; you were almost waiting for instruction from him.

Jungwon scooted back on the bed with his backpack to make room for you. He beckoned towards the now empty seat for you to sit on. You carefully sat on the edge of the bed, not even turning your knees to face his body.

“You look really weird right now.” Here came back the Jungwon you were used to, the one who threw out any sort of comment he could at you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, turning back to him, “I’m trying to be cautious. I’m afraid you might insult me if I so much as lay a finger on your comforter.”

Jungwon, without you noticing, rolled his eyes. He sighed, “You can sit further back on my bed. I don’t bite.”

“I just don’t believe you, to be honest.” You remarked back at him.

Sighing again, albeit more frustratedly this time, Jungwon caught you by surprise by grabbing your wrist closest to him and slightly tugging you further back on his bed.

“I don’t care if you don’t believe me,” he said, “I need your help. I won’t bite so long as you’re helping me.”

You finally turned to face him, taking note of how much closer you two were sat now that he had pulled your wrist. You looked down at his hand still wrapped around your wrist. He quickly removed his hand.

Adjusting yourself, you turned to face Jungwon on his bed, watching him pull out a binder, a pencil, and a calculator. He opened the binder, searching for a familiar white packet: the same one that’d you’d turned in earlier that week.

You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned over slightly to look at the problem that he was caught on. Jungwon noticed how you were sat across from him, and thereby couldn’t properly read the problem. He scooted his body more to the left of you and moved his binder so you could read.

The problem that Jungwon had attempted last had lots and lots of erased pencil marks all over it; he had clearly been struggling with it. You remembered also struggling with the same problem, but not nearly as much as he did.

“So this is one of the ones you’re struggling with?” You questioned, looking at him.

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes, “I feel like she made this a lot harder than it should’ve been.”

“I had a hard time with this one, too, if it makes you feel any better.” You reassured him. Motioning to his calculator, you continued, “Why don’t you walk me through the steps of what you’re doing? Then I can show you what I did.”

Roughly fifteen minutes later and there were still eraser marks decorating the paper, yet not nearly as much as there were before. Jungwon was still confused, but had successfully worked through half of the problem he was caught on.

Jungwon groaned for what seemed like the hundredth time when you caught another mistake of his, “This is so stupid.”

“Hey,” you laughed, “I’m just trying to help you.”

“You know I didn’t mean you.”

There it was again, another positive comment from Jungwon, and this one sent a special beat through your heart. You chalked it up to just being not used to this side of Jungwon, not anything more.

“It’s okay,” you reassured, “I told you that I also struggled with this one. It’s not you, it’s the problem.”

You weren’t sure what came over you, but with the sudden kindness from Jungwon, you felt the need to return the gesture.

“I know,” he groaned, “I know. I just want to finish this problem. I have like four more to do that are the exact same thing.”

Jungwon flopped back on his bed, covering his face with his hands. You slightly laughed at the boy; all that big, tough act just for him to crumble at a math problem.

“Why are you laughing?” Jungwon whined, not amused. He removed his hands from his face to look at you.

“I’m not,” you tried concealing your laughter, “I’m not. I swear.”

“You’re laughing at me,” he said, “I’m about to drop out of school and you’re laughing at me.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” you replied, “it’s just one math problem. Wanna take a break with me?”

“…Maybe.”

You got off of Jungwon’s bed and started, “Come on, get up.”

“Actually, changed my mind, I’d rather die here than take a break with you.”

Though his words seemed harsh, you could tell there were hints of joking in his tone. You smiled naturally at him, “Fine, be like that. I’ll just leave.”

“You don’t have a ride home, need I remind you.”

“But I have a phone,” you teased, pulling your phone out of your pocket, “and I have people I can call. Like Gyuvin or Minji.”

Jungwon sat up finally, tilting his head at you, “Who are they?”

You didn’t even realize that you’d mentioned your childhood friends with Jungwon; you had been so oddly comfortable in the moment that you’d just let their names leave your mouth.

“Oh, uh-” you started, looking down, “just, uh, friends from my old school.”

You braced yourself for him to make fun of your ‘poor’ friends as usual, but nothing came from his direction of the room. You looked back up at him to find him with the same expression he’d had while asking you about them.

“What did you want to take a break for?” He inquired.

“Oh, I didn’t need it,” you said, “I thought you might’ve needed it.”

“Oh.”

A blanket of silence temporarily fell over the room until Jungwon broke the quiet atmosphere, “Didn’t know you had it in you to be so caring.”

“Maybe you’d know if you didn’t try to get under my skin all the time,” you remarked, with hints of teasing, “I’m actually quite the caring person, you’d be surprised.”

“I’m not.”

You had no time to process what he’d said before he spoke again:

“Let’s get back to work. I need to focus so you don’t stay here any longer than you have to.”

And just like that, Jungwon was back to his normal self.

x. I ALMOST SAID “I LOVE YOU”

The next following weeks that were leading up to the dance passed quicker in a blur than you’d like to admit they had; it seemed like just yesterday you had started fake-dating Jungwon, but in actuality it was coming up on around a month and a half.

In the time that you two had been “dating”, you’d become familiar with the soccer team, had gone to his house on multiple occasions, and even met his mother once.

Another uncertain familiarity had also made itself known: you were beginning to get used to being with Jungwon.

There had been many different occasions in which you’d felt yourself especially having let your walls down to the boy, and as more weeks passed of being “together”, the moments became much more frequent.

In particular, the last week had been particularly eventful for you.

The first strange event had occurred on Tuesday evening, when Jungwon, Wonyoung, Taesan, and you had all gone to the mall after school. Wonyoung was in need of some sort of new fur jacket for a family company event, or so she said. You had tagged along to help her find something suitable to wear, and she had told you that it was of the utmost importance that you were with her.

Taesan had joined because he wanted to pay for Wonyoung’s coat, being the caring boyfriend that he was. Taesan had also extended to invite to Jungwon to create the illusion of a double date.

While Wonyoung was in the fitting room of an expensive French store with a name you couldn’t even try to pronounce, Taesan had told you that he would hold onto the current items you had in hand and told you to try find some more different ones on the other side of the store. You happily obliged, loving the feeling of window shopping in a place you could never afford.

To your surprise, Jungwon had joined you without you asking or Taesan offering the idea to him.

The two of you quickly found yourselves in the coat designated area of the store, and you told Jungwon that you two should divide and conquer.

He listened to you, and set off in the opposite direction of where you were.

The first coat that caught your eye was cream colored, with what felt like a velvet inside and a chiffon outside. The sleeves and collar were decorated with what you could only guess was arctic fox fur. You loved Wonyoung, but you had a hard time getting behind her family’s necessity of wearing animal fur. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Looking at the price tag, it read $1,205. Your jaw slightly dropped, forgetting how truly expensive it was in there. You grabbed the jacket nonetheless, and started to make your way to try and find Jungwon.

Out of the corner of your eye, a glint of diamond found you.

You knew that you should have been getting back to Wonyoung.

But one look wouldn’t hurt, right?

You stalked your way up to the glass display slowly and spotted the most gorgeous pairs of earrings you’d ever seen in your entire lifetime. Next to the diamond pair that’d initially caught your eye, there was a beautiful silver chained necklace with what appeared to be a green gemstone encased in the center. It had to be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

The employee noticed your wonder and walked over to speak to you.

“Hello,” the middle aged woman started, “see anything that you like, sweetheart?”

“Oh, uh-” you were startled, “Sorry. I was just looking.”

“I understand. We have a wonderful selection of jewelry. Are you looking at anything in particular?”

You shook your head, “No, um, I can’t. I’m here with a friend. This is way out of my price range.”

“I see, dear,” she said, pulling her glasses down from her head and placing them on her nose, “but that’s not what I was asking. Which one caught your eye?”

“Oh,” you laughed awkwardly, “I liked the diamond earrings a lot. The necklace with the small green gemstone is what kept me staring, though.”

“That’s a very popular one, the green gemstone. It’s a Colombian emerald.”

“It’s absolutely beautiful. If I had a job like this, I’d just spend all day looking at all the jewelry.”

The lady nodded, “As do I now.”

Suddenly, Jungwon appeared behind you, slightly startling you. You whipped around to see what seemed to be a concerned look.

“Hi,” you said, “I found something for Wonyoung.”

“I can see that,” he responded, looking down at the coat, then back at you, “but I was hoping more for you to find me. Taesan messaged me, asking where we were, because Wonyoung is still ‘hopeless’.”

“Oh,” you stuttered, “I got distracted. Thank you,” you turned to the woman as you started walking away, “and sorry about that,” you looked at Jungwon, “I got really distracted.”

“Yeah,” he slightly laughed, “I could have told you that. You should’ve answered your phone, I was worried.”

He was worried?

“You texted me?” You asked him.

Jungwon was worried?

“And called.”

Jungwon said he was worried.. about you. Weird.

You tried to ignore the slight skip in your heartbeat as you walked with him back to the fitting rooms.

xi. TO SIP IT SLOWLY

The next strange occurrence was the following Thursday night.

As a celebratory event, Jungwon’s soccer team decided to have a party in honor of their hard work (and just to party).

It was no surprise that a group of boys like Jungwon’s soccer team would host an obnoxious party. It reminded you of the ones that came out of movies; there was plenty of underaged drinking, it was too loud, and shitty music was blasting from a speaker that was a room over.

The party was in full swing by the time that you had arrived, which was about an hour after it was said to have started. The reason for your tardiness could have been chalked up to one person only: Gyuvin. As an apology for him causing you to be late, he offered to drive you to the location where the party was being held.

You had tried texting Jungwon multiple times on your way to the party, but, to no avail, he didn’t answer. This alone nearly caused you to forget about even showing up.

You sent him one last text — “just arrived. Wya?” — before leaving Gyuvin’s car and walking up the lawn of the house. While you went to the door (alone), you repeatedly checked your phone to see if Jungwon had messaged you back:

No.

The front door was unlocked when you reached it, and the foyer was empty. From a couple rooms away, you could hear music being blasted from a speaker. Hoping for the best, you decided to follow your gut and head that way.

The music was coming from the basement, which was down a hall then through a door that led to a flight of stairs. As you approached closer and closer to the basement door, you braced yourself for the potential of going deaf.

With still no text back from Jungwon, you opened the door and began walking down the stairs towards the main event of the party.

The first girl to acknowledge your presence was a girl named Noh Yunah, who was best friends with the girl who hosted the party: Park Minju. Minju was in a long term relationship with Anton Lee, the head captain of the team.

“Hey,” Yunah started, “you’re Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you made your way to stand next to her. Yelling over the music, you continued, “I am. You’re Noh Yunah?”

“I am!” Yunah smiled at you. “Where’s Jungwon?”

You slightly flushed at the sound of his name. You forgot that everyone here was in relation to the soccer team somehow, so of course they’d only know you as Jungwon’s girlfriend.

“Beats me,” you laughed, “I texted him earlier but he didn’t respond.”

“Weird,” Yunah responded, “I’m pretty sure that he was talking about you earlier. I just assumed that you two would have shown up together.”

“Yeah,” you said. Looking past Yunah, you couldn’t see anyone that resembled Jungwon. Sighing, you continued, “I had plans beforehand though. They unfortunately made me late.”

“Girl, I understand,” she laughed, “I hate these stupid parties most of the time. If I had other plans, I’d rather be there. Unfortunately, everyone that I’m friends with is here. I’m just glad there’s another girl.”

Suddenly, Park Minju made herself known from beside Yunah. She smiled, “I’m so relieved that you came, Y/N. Jungwon never stops talking about you at lunch. I needed to meet you finally so he would shut up.”

You laughed awkwardly, not sure if she was being nice or if it was a backhanded compliment. Either way, both girls were right; it was a complete relief to have other girls there.

But their behavior kind of puzzled you, too. Had the three of you been in a school setting, they probably wouldn’t have looked twice at you. If they did, it probably would’ve been to make a snarky comment.

Okay, maybe you were being too harsh on these girls. You’d never met them before.

But, in the same breath, you could never truly be too sure about Ivy Hills students.

Minju looked at your awkward stance, then laughed, “Do you want a drink?”

“Oh,” you started, “no. I don’t drink. Thank you though.”

“Suit yourself.” Minju raised a teasing eyebrow and smiled, then walking away to the big circle of people in the middle of the room — that same Jungwon-less circle you’d seen earlier.

Yunah looked at you, “Are you okay?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just, um… wondering where Jungwon is.”

“Hey,” she grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you closer so you could hear her better, “Sorry about Minju. I swear she likes you. She just doesn’t do well with new people.”

You nodded and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in, “That’s good to know. I think I might actually take her up on her drinking offer, though. Is there anything non-alcoholic?”

Yunah bit her lip, “I’m not sure. Everything’s in the kitchen. Want me to come check with you?”

“No,” you reassured, “I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”

You left Yunah and ventured back up the stairs towards where the kitchen was, which was off the hall. There were a few people in there already, looking into coolers and what you could assume was Minju’s parents’ liquor cabinet.

You crouched by a cooler with no one nearby and fished through it, looking for something tame, like a soda. Your best bet was either a safe ginger ale or something new: a Jack Daniels wine cooler.

You didn’t know anyone at the party.. and you had school the following morning, that you couldn’t risk skipping. But maybe one wine cooler wouldn’t be that bad…

You stood up from your crouching position and walked to the kitchen counter where you placed your drink. Cracking it open, you took your first sip.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your pocket with a text from someone you had been waiting on:

Jungwon.

It was a simple text — “Hey” — but you felt your heart skip a beat. Perhaps the alcohol had entered your system quickly.

You quickly responded — “Where are you??” — to his text and placed your phone face down, leaning your back against the counter to face the open doorway.

As if on cue, a familiar lean figure walked through the doorway, almost making you choke on nothing. Unknowingly, your face broke into a little smile of relief.

Jungwon nodded to whoever the other people were in the room (who were still scavenging for drinks) before walking over to you.

“Where have you been?” You questioned teasingly once he made his way over to you.

“Oh, around, y’know.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“I was out on the back porch with some of my teammates, why?” He looked at you, “You missed me?”

“You wish,” you laughed, “but no. I don’t know anyone here. I kind of need you here in order for it to make any remote sense of me being here.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugged. Jungwon glanced at your drink, then furrowed his eyebrows, “You been drinking?”

“It’s my first and probably last. We have school tomorrow, so even though I wanna fit in, I wanna keep my scholarship more than that.”

Jungwon chuckled at your words, “Smart girl, I guess. Wanna go downstairs?”

“We can, yeah,” you said.

Jungwon pushed himself off of the counter and led you back downstairs to the basement, but this time to the large crowd. They were all still sat in a circle, but the music was softer this time.

A couple of (assumed) teammates called out Jungwon’s name as he walked to find a spot in the circle, leading you with him. The two of you found a spot on one of the couches at the end. The spot had enough space for one person, but you and Jungwon squished to both be able to sit. He offered for you to sit on his lap, but you declined. The alcohol was making your face red enough.

You sat between Jungwon and one of his friends, Junhyuk, who everyone called “Win” for some reason. Assuming he played for a school team and was the star player, that would make sense. But you still thought it was weird nonetheless.

The conversation was still flying at a million miles per hour once you’d sat down, and you didn’t expect to really understand anything. Your main goal was to just sit there nicely and then go home once Jungwon left.

The last thing you’d expected to happen was Jungwon to slowly slither his right arm around your waist and place his hand on your hip nonchalantly. Your eyes widened at the occurrence, but Jungwon seemed unfazed.

Junhyuk was very obviously drinking and had been for some time, so when he leaned over jokingly and asked how “serious” you and Jungwon were, you weren’t exactly shocked that he’d made a comment about you two, especially given that your “relationship” was the most recently established.

A couple other people had overheard Junhyuk’s comment and laughed, causing Jungwon to raise an eyebrow at them.

“We’re very serious, Junhyuk, thank you for asking.” Jungwon commented with hints of snark in his voice, “And, also, thank you for hitting on my girlfriend! Just reminded me that I have the most beautiful woman this school has ever seen!”

“If she’s so pretty,” Junhyuk laughed, “why don’t you share? Especially if you know how much other people want her.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, there was no way he just said that. Another drunkard called from across the circle, “Jungwon, I’ll give you $40 if you trade places with me for the night.”

Jungwon’s pride turned into disgust within milliseconds, “My girlfriend is not an object. I will never let her around gross low-lives like you both if you ever say any bullshit like that again.”

Jungwon tightened his grasp around your waist. He then pulled you to be sitting on his lap, so that you wouldn’t have to be sitting next to Junhyuk anymore.

He whispered in your ear, “Sorry for making you come here.”

However, the boys’ drunk comments were deafened in comparison to the way Jungwon had your heart beating.

You were so fucked.

xii. BUT I DONT GET BORED

The final occurrence actually happened the following day during your math class.

Many of the people that you were mingling with the previous night decided not to go to school the following day — which would be today — and unluckily for you, you didn’t have that option, so you sat quietly in your Calculus class like normal.

Jungwon, to your surprise, had decided not to skip school like most of his friends and teammates, so he was sat quietly in your Calculus class, too.

Around two weeks prior, your teacher had decided to change up the seating chart of the classroom, sending Jungwon nearly all the way across the room from you.

You were almost 100% sure that it was because your teacher had seen the two of you passing notes during lectures, but because she never mentioned anything to the either of you, you couldn’t be sure.

You took a peek at where Jungwon was situated on the other side of the room just for you to notice him already looking at you.

You gave him a little smile, but then quickly turned to look at your teacher instead.

The AP tests for the majority of your classes had already happened, but your final AP exam was on the following Monday, which meant your teacher was doubling down on the review work and studying for you and your classmates.

Your teacher had randomly assigned everyone into either A team or B team, and today’s review session was to be a team vs. team test. You were hoping that by some miracle, Jungwon would get sorted into the same team as you; the two smartest people in the class — and in your whole grade, for that measure — being on the same team meant a guaranteed win for that team.

But, unluckily for you, he got assigned to B team, and you were stuck in A team. Once the sorting was complete, Jungwon caught your eye from across the room and mouthed a quick “sorry” while frowning.

You gave him a small smile that said “it’s okay” before turning to your teammates.

The desks had been pushed all together but separated in the middle (to distinguish between the two teams’ spaces) to create more space for everyone to “work together”.

You knew damn well in your mind that “working together” for your team most likely meant that they would make you (and maybe one other smart person if you were lucky) do all the equations and then just take credit for your work.

Your hunch was proven correct when you were onto your fourth problem in the process with the teams at 1-2. Your team was winning, but you were beginning to stress. If B team finished the equation first, the teams would be tied up.

Even though the exercise was supposed to be “fun”, it seemed to be fun for everyone except for you. The feeling of roughly 6 or 7 classmates breathing down your neck in wait of you finishing a problem only made you want a cry.

Moments later, a member from B team stood up and ran to the teacher to show her the answer and the work done. While all your classmates were watching in anticipation to see if she got the answer or not, you continued to work on the problem. You couldn’t join them in watching, because on the off chance that she made a mistake in her work, you needed to be prepared to swoop in with correctly done work at any moment.

Alas, to your dismay, your teacher chimed the bell that signified a correct answer.

One of your teammates gave you a dirty look.

Trying your best to ignore them, you focused onto the whiteboard and waited for your teacher to write down the final problem of the competition.

It didn’t take long for you to be reimmersed into the world of Calculus and try your hardest to finish the problem first. It wasn’t easy to focus when your teammates were breathing down your neck, though.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, you had nearly completed the problem when your opponent, Leehan, quickly ran up to your teacher to hand her the answer sheet with his work.

While she was grading the work, your teammate, Haruto, was urging you to finish while cursing under his breath at you, but not quietly enough for you to not be able to hear.

The bell chimed, signifying your team lost.

A cheer erupted from the other side of the classroom while Haruto snatched the paper from you and crumbled it up. He rolled his eyes, “Nice work, trailer trash. You’re more stupid than I thought.”

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungwon’s neck snap in Haruto’s direction.

While his team was cheering, Jungwon decided that instead of joining in, he would make sure he didn’t just hear what he thought he did from Haruto.

“What did you just call her, Watanabe?”

At this point, not only did you and Haruto notice Jungwon, but the majority of your teammates did, too. While some opted to pretend they didn’t see anything, some of the other ones turned their full attention to the interaction.

“Why do you give a fuck, Yang? You’re not on this team, so you shouldn’t even care that she made us lose. You won.”

“Maybe I did, but if you wanted to win, you should’ve helped her, instead of standing there like the bum that you are,” Jungwon scoffed, “because it’s no secret, Haruto, that you’re a lazy loser who rides off other people’s success to create your own.”

Haruto’s face morphed into an unrecognizable expression.

Jungwon continued, “In case you didn’t notice, your ‘personal math problem-solver’ here was doing the work with you breathing your hot breath down her neck.”

Catching more people’s attention now, he raised his voice a bit, “None of you did anything and you’re complaining that you lost. Y/N is lucky that exams are solo activities because she definitely won’t need any of you to rely on for answers. I’m glad that at least one person in this class is smart-”

Your teacher cut him off, “Yang Jungwon, that’s enough. Please go take a seat.”

Once Jungwon sat down, you couldn’t help yourself from sneaking a look at Haruto’s face, which hasn’t even changed a bit since Jungwon insulted him.

You laughed to yourself, thinking about Jungwon. Maybe losing wasn’t so bad after all if that was the result.

xiii. NEVER KNEW I COULD FEEL THIS MUCH

The sudden comfort that you had found in the man you once despised terrified you.

It terrified you so much to the point of you declining Wonyoung to a hang-out twice this weekend, for fear of Jungwon being there.

You were sure that by the third time, Wonyoung could tell what was up. So, it didn’t entirely surprise you when she showed up at your family’s apartment door that same night she texted you.

“You have a bit of explaining to do,” she started once you opened the door to her.

“Hello to you too.”

Wonyoung stepped past you to walk toward your room, you trailing behind her by a few paces. You watched as she sat herself right on your bed and sent you a look that said ‘sit here’.

Once you sat, she immediately started, “Why have you been avoiding hanging out with me?”

“I haven’t,” you lied through your teeth, “I’ve just been… busy.”

She furrowed her brows at you, “Busy with what? Your boyfriend?”

You tensed subconsciously at the word, but responded, “No… just school, I guess. Even though AP tests are over, I still have some schoolwork.”

Wonyoung squinted, “Like what?”

“Just… papers and stuff.”

“You’re a bad liar,” she complained, “but whatever. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay. I won’t prod.”

You nodded thankfully at her, looking away, “If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t seen any other friends.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes and standing up, “No, Y/N, that doesn’t make me feel any better. That makes me feel depressed on your behalf.”

You sent her an annoyed look.

“Anyway, since I’m already here, we should go do something. I miss my best friend.”

You smiled a little at her and also stood up.

As if on cue, you received a text from Jungwon:

Wanna go do something fun tonight?

xiv. LOST TRACK OF TIME AND SPACE

That Saturday after, you were once again with Minji and Gyuvin in your family’s apartment. This time, you weren’t being dramatic or even complaining about Jungwon. Instead, Minji decided to bring up the man herself.

“Y/N, I saw on your story last night that you went to a party.”

“Yeah,” you started, “I did, so what?”

“Since when are you a party person?” Gyuvin butted in, antagonizing you.

“I’m not, obviously,” you sighed, “I hid in the bathroom for most of it anyways. It was loud and obnoxious, and I only went because Jungwon asked me to go as his date.”

“Hm,” Minji hummed, “seems like he’s pretty serious about you, given that he asked you to go as his date to a party.”

“What’s even funnier is you went!” Gyuvin laughed from his spot on your bed.

“What’s so funny about that?” You interrogated, snapping your neck to look at him.

“Nothing, nothing.”

You shook your head at him, rolling your eyes slightly. Minji spoke next, “It is a bit funny. Y/N L/N, the well-known party-goer.”

“Look, I only went because he asked, okay? You guys both know damn well that I wouldn’t have gone otherwise.” You scoffed, surprised at their audacity.

Minji laughed, “And since when are you one to listen to what Yang Jungwon asks of you? The Y/N that I know wouldn’t have said yes in a million years.”

“It was important to him, okay,” You replied, “and he was insisting that I go. For public image reasons.”

“And now you care about what’s important to him,” Gyuvin piped up, “the plot thickens!”

You sighed, “It’s really not as big of a deal as you guys are making it out to be.”

“Listen, Y/N,” Gyuvin continued, “never did I ever think that you would ever go to a party, let alone with someone you claim to ‘hate’. I think you’re starting to like him.”

Minji laughed and you widened your eyes as you felt your face slightly flush at the thought. Was it that obvious?

“Oh my god, Gyuvin is totally right! Y/N, you liiiiike Yang Jungwon!” Minji sang to you.

“I do not,” you felt yourself retort like an elementary-aged school girl, “I do not! I swear it’s nothing. We’re just fake dating and that’s it.”

Minji kept laughing, “Sureeeee, Y/N. We both believe you!” She continued taunting you, high-fiving Gyuvin.

“You guys are so sick for this…” you grumbled, trying to push away your feelings for Jungwon further down.

“You’re just mad we’re never wrong,” Gyuvin said, “oh, and, by the way, you only have a week until you get your money.”

You felt your eyes slightly widen and your heart skip a beat or two.

Had time really flown by that quickly?

xv. HARDER TO HIDE THAN I THOUGHT

Two days had passed and you were scheduled to attend a double date with your “boyfriend”, Wonyoung, and Taesan. It was, pretty obviously, Wonyoung’s idea. But, because you didn’t want Jungwon to assume you suddenly hated him, you agreed to go.

Around an hour before the date, Jungwon suddenly texted you — “Hey, I’m omw to get you a bit early. I wanna talk before we see them” — and you felt your soul temporarily leave your body.

You and Jungwon hadn’t talked very often in the past week, because you had been avoiding him like the plague, trying to deny and drown out your feelings towards him.

Jungwon didn’t live too far from you, but it was far enough that you had at least fifteen minutes to freak out about his text message.

What could he possibly want? Was he going to confront you about avoiding him? What would you say, if that was the case?

You ran to the bathroom to touch up your outfit, makeup, and hair quickly, not wanting to present yourself badly in front of him. As in denial as you were, a small part of you knew that you did like the boy, and wanted to look pretty for him.

You were wearing a fairly plain outfit:

A white lace cami under a red short sleeve shirt, some secondhand baggy jeans, and some old clogs from your mother. You sported the look with an old (most likely faux) brown leather jacket from your father.

As for your hair, it was loosely braided into two braids and tied with a ribbon. You pulled some hair out to give it a more “effortless” look, but you were slightly afraid it came off as you trying too hard.

Your makeup was minimal, but this left you worried you did too little. You added slight highlights to the inner corners of your eyes to make them pop.

Arriving 10 minutes earlier than you anticipated, you heard a knock at the door, knowing immediately who it was. You looked over yourself one last time before leaving the bathroom.

As soon as you opened the door, Jungwon’s once grim face lit up at the sight of you, “You look nice.”

“Thanks, I like to think so too, sometimes.”

He scanned your whole body and face before slightly smiling. He cleared his throat before asking, “Ready to go?”

You nodded, shutting the apartment door behind you, not bothering to lock it, as both of your parents were home at the hour. You laughed slightly, “Where are you taking me?”

Jungwon, leading the way down the steps towards the bottom landing of the apartment building, turned back for a split second to say, “It’s a surprise.”

Roughly another fifteen minutes later, Jungwon parked his car. He unbuckled his seatbelt and said, “We’re here.”

You followed suit and once out of the car you looked around, “Where are we?”

“East Eden Park.”

Jungwon smiled at you as he started walking up a hill, beckoning for you to follow.

“Okay, why are we here?” You asked, your tone slightly laced with panic as you walked behind.

Jungwon looked over his shoulder at you, “I’ll explain when we get up to the top.”

Suddenly, you had the genius idea to beat him to the top. Smirking, you said, “Race you.”

Before Jungwon even had a second to register what you said, you took off up the hill and managed to get many paces ahead of him before he started running too.

To your surprise, you ended up beating him up the hill, to which you cheered in victory, “I win! I win! You suck!”

Jungwon laughed as he finally reached the top of the hill, “Okay, bragger.”

You settled down your laughing and cheering to take in the view around you, widening your eyes at the sight. It took your breath away momentarily, “Wow, this place is amazing. You can see the whole downtown area from here.”

“Isn’t it?” Jungwon asked, as he reached to be next to you.

The sun had just started to set over the horizon of the city, making the perfect spot to watch the sunset.

“This is oddly romantic,” you laughed, awkwardly, “thanks for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome. Will you take a seat on the grass so we can talk?”

You immediately sat down in your spot, “You don’t have to ask me that twice.”

Jungwon also sat next to you, so close that your hands almost touched. If not for the rules that you two had made, you would’ve reached and grabbed his hand. But deep down, you knew you’d strangle yourself if you ever broke the unspoken fifth rule:

Don’t catch feelings.

Sighing to yourself, you trained your sights on a familiar building. You nudged Jungwon, “Hey, did you know that’s where my dad works?”

“Wait, which one? Your pointing skills suck.”

“Right there, second to the right on the bottom. Big brown building.”

Jungwon squinted his eyes, still not seeing what you were talking about.

“Dude, the one at the very bottom. Not the gray one.”

Jungwon sighed, “I give up. I can’t see it.”

“Really?” You said, exasperated, “You can’t see the brown building that says ‘Armstrong & Dennis’ above it?”

“Ohhh, I know that one. My dad’s a shareholder in that company.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Great. Thanks for reminding me of our societal class difference.”

Jungwon chuckled, nudging you, “You know that’s not what I meant when I said that.”

“Yeah, whatever, rich boy,” you nudged him back, “So, why’d you bring me here?”

“Oh,” he said, reminded of the reason, “I wanted to talk, um, about next week.”

The words Minji and Gyuvin were teasing you with appeared back in your head:

Only one week.

You tensed slightly and laughed, “Oh, I forgot about that.”

He stayed silent.

“So… what did you want to exactly discuss?” You questioned, looking at him. His eyes were still trained on the sunset-stained skyline, not moving. You wondered what he was thinking about.

He broken his silence after a minute, “Just… logistics, I guess.”

“What logistics?” You asked, “I thought it was just that we would go to the dance together, and then ‘break-up’.”

“Well, yeah, but…” he trailed off, not even continuing his sentence.

“But?”

“Y’know what? Never mind. It doesn’t matter,” he sighed, finally looking at you, “because you’re right, we’ve already talked about it. Guess I’m just psyching myself out because I don’t know how Taesan and Wonyoung are going to react.”

“Understandable,” you said, “I mean, I do like hanging out with you though. Or, at least, when you’re nice to me. I’m sure we can stay friends after this whole fiasco is over.”

Jungwon took a long pause.

“Yeah… friends.”

You didn’t respond, instead opting to look at the way the sunset looked that evening, even taking out your phone to snap a photo of it.

You then got an idea, turning to Jungwon, “Wanna take a picture?”

He seemed genuinely surprised at your question, stuttering out a quick “sure” before posing next to you in your picture.

You flipped the camera to selfie mode and posed with a quick peace sign and slightly puckered lips. Jungwon copied your pose, but with a close-mouthed smile instead.

“Okay, wait, one more.” You insisted to him.

This time, you stuck your tongue out and widened your eyes, and he made a screaming face. You both laughed at the funny pictures before Jungwon got a call and picked it up swiftly.

“Yeah, we’re on our way.”

It was all he said before hanging up and standing up, “Hey, let’s go, or we’ll be late for dinner.”

“Okay, okay,” you said, pushing yourself off the ground and following Jungwon to his car.

The next ten minute drive was eerily silent. Not even comfortable silence, but instead a silence that felt like it was sitting on both of your chests— as if there was something that needed to be addressed, but you were both too afraid to acknowledge it.

You let out an unknowing breath of relief when you arrived at the restaurant where Wonyoung and Taesan were already waiting outside for the both of you.

As if on instinct, Jungwon grabbed your hand as you walked towards your friends at the door of the restaurant. You tried to pick up on their conversation, but it seemed like your mind was too foggy to even function that night, with nothing being able to even be clear.

However, there was one thing that night that couldn’t leave your mind:

Jungwon’s grip on your hand felt a little tighter than usual.

xvi. ARE YOU MINE?

One day before the dance, you were with Wonyoung in her family’s mansion and just hanging out as usual. Your conversations had been extremely honed in on the elephant in the room: the dance. Wonyoung tried on her expensive gown for you, and even asked you to help her style it. You two had practiced hairstyles, and even discussed when you would be coming over the following morning to get ready with her.

The dress you had bought was much less glamorous than hers, but even though she offered to let you borrow one of her “family event” dresses, you politely declined, insisting that you go with the dress you bought, because Jungwon liked the color.

Just as you were finishing up a hairstyle YouTube tutorial, you got a sudden call from Jungwon. You turned to Wonyoung, saying, “Hey, I’m gonna take this real quick.”

You walked out into her hallway and then into the guest bathroom to answer the phone.

As soon as you answered, he immediately started rambling, “Hey, Y/N, I know you’re with Wonyoung right now, but is there any way we can meet up late tonight? I have stuff I need to go over with you.”

Trying to understand him through his rambling, you just agreed, telling him to pick you up from Wonyoung’s at 10:30, which was in 15 minutes. You knew for a fact that Wonyoung wouldn’t care, because for one, she would be seeing you tomorrow morning anyways, and for two, you had planned on leaving at 10:30 anyways, but this time it would be Jungwon driving you, and not Wonyoung back home.

As soon as he heard your confirmation, Jungwon immediately hung up. You shook your head a bit, confused.

You walked back into Wonyoung’s room, letting her know that Jungwon would be coming to get you and drive you home. She nodded, still working on fixing her attempted hairstyle.

You went back to one of her mirrors and undid your hairstyle, not wanting to spoil your potential look for the following day, and also not wanting to look dressy from the face up, because you were wearing a baggy tee shirt, athletic shorts, and ankle socks, which would soon be joined by your sandals that were on the bottom floor.

Jungwon sent you a text — “I’m here” — which made you say goodbye to Wonyoung and tell her that you’ll see her tomorrow at 11am. She only waved “bye” as you left, still preoccupied with her hair.

As soon as you slipped out of the front door of the Jang’s, you were immediately met with Jungwon’s car. He rolled down the passenger window and said, “Get in.”

You yawned a bit as you opened the door, not even questioning where he was taking you.

Roughly five minutes went by and you both arrived at your location, which, to your surprise, was the same park that he took you to only a couple days ago.

“‘Welcome to Eden’…” you read the sign as you unloaded yourself from the car.

Jungwon said nothing as he trekked up the hill, leaving you to catch up once again. This time, however, you didn’t race him.

Once at the top of the hill, Jungwon immediately sat down, inviting you to join him. You complied in milliseconds.

A silence again filled the area between you two before you broke it:

“It’s so picture-esque here.”

Jungwon nodded next to you, the lights from the downtown illuminating his expression, which was unreadable.

“So…” you started, “why’d you bring me back here?”

Jungwon took a deep breath, “I just like it here.”

“Wow,” you teased, poking him, “trying to bring me to his favorite places before he breaks my heart. Such a tragic love story.”

You laughed at your own joke, but didn’t fail to notice how Jungwon remained expressionless.

He sighed, “Yeah…”

Another minute of silence befell the two of you, this time you being too afraid to break it.

Out of nowhere, Jungwon started, “Do you think we should keep doing this?”

Caught off guard, you asked “What?”

“Like, fake dating,” he said, “for Wonyoung and Taesan, of course. I feel like it’ll be suspicious if we break up the day after the dance.”

You furrowed your brow, not against the idea, but confused nonetheless, “Uh… sure. But how much longer?”

Jungwon pondered for a moment before coming to a conclusion, “Until it feels right.”

Not daring to turn your head to him, you stared into the abyss with the most confused look of your life, not even sure what to respond with. Instead you fell onto your back, opting to look at the stars above instead of the city ahead.

Shortly after, Jungwon followed suit.

He broke the silence first again, “Which constellation is your favorite?”

“Oh, I have no clue,” you said, genuinely thinking about it, “I don’t think I’ve put much time into thinking about it, honestly. Maybe the Southern Cross? It’s pretty easy to spot.”

Jungwon hummed next to you. Then he grabbed your hand and made you make a pointer finger, guiding it to where he wanted you to point, “Mine is Bootes. Can you see it? It’s right…” he moved your hand slightly, “…there.”

“Yeah… yeah, I think so.” You replied, squinting.

“Do you see the big star at the bottom? Its name is Arcturus.” He let go of your hand.

“I didn’t know you knew so much about astronomy,” you laughed, “it’s endearing.”

Jungwon chuckled, “My maternal grandpa worked for NASA. As crazy as it sounds, I was born from generational wealth.”

You smacked him teasingly, “You don’t say!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said, “crazy that the spoiled rich kid was born this way. And both his parents, too.”

You nodded, “Crazy. Would’ve never guessed. But, question, why do you like Bootes?”

“Oh, mainly because of Arcturus,” he replied, “because I can almost guarantee that there’s some sort of other life out there.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “do you think they’re smarter than us?”

“Maybe.”

“Cooler?”

“Definitely not.”

“Do you think there’s a parallel version of you and I that are doing the exact same thing right now?”

Jungwon paused, “I hope.”

You smiled, “Who do you think wins in a fight, you or alien you?”

“Oh,” he laughed, “I’d definitely win. No question about it.”

“How can you be so sure? What if their species is naturally taller and stronger?”

“I’m smarter.”

“Sure…” you said, “so does that mean alien me would beat human you? Or would you finally one-up me for once?”

Jungwon laughed loudly at your comment, “Wow… you think you’re so funny.”

You peeked at him and smiled to yourself before looking back at the stars and sighing, “I think I’m starting to like Bootes, too.”

Once back in Jungwon’s car, the silence was more comfortable than previous times. This time, it’s as if you’ve let your heart completely out of its cage of fear without actually telling Jungwon how you feel. This time, you’re sure that somewhere along the lines, you started to fall for him. This time, you knew that he meant something to you.

Halfway through the drive, Jungwon started to talk about his intergalactic arch-nemesis again and how he was sure that alien Jungwon was not as cool as human Jungwon.

“You two are essentially the exact same, though, just from different planets.” You said as a counter argument.

“Let me ask you this,” Jungwon replied, “Do you think you’re better than your alien self?”

You thought for a second before answering, “No. I am her and she is me. I’m sure she’s great.”

Jungwon laughed at your reply, “Okay, that was a pretty nice response.”

“Thank you,” you said, “I like to think highly of my alien self, because if she’s anything like me, she probably doesn’t think the highest of herself.”

Jungwon’s face got a bit more serious as he pulled onto your street, “What do you mean?” He turned down the radio.

“Oh, I, uh,” you stumbled over your words, “I didn’t mean to turn this into a pity party or anything, just…”

He parked the car and only looked at you.

“I’m sorry,” you laughed awkwardly, “that got depressing quick.”

“No worries,” he reassured, grabbing your hand and surprising you, “why don’t you think the highest of yourself?”

“Jungwon,” you said, uncomfortable, “you’re not my therapist. No need to worry about me-”

“No,” he cut you off, “I want to know. I mean, if anything, you’re miles smarter than me.”

You laughed a bit, “Um, thanks. But intelligence isn’t everything.”

He nodded, “Go on.”

“It’s just,” you started, “nothing really. It just sucks being the absolute poorest person at your school. No matter how high I score, or how hard I work, no one sees that. They just see my class background.”

Jungwon studied your face, “I’m sorry.”

“Wha-” you sputtered, “Why are you apologizing? It’s not like you were the one who did it! Well…” you paused, “actually you did. But that was a while ago. I basically already forgot.”

Jungwon doesn’t break his stare, “I wish I could help.”

You felt your heart race faster in your chest as you locked eyes with him, “Really… it’s okay. I swear.”

Something about the way that he was looking at you had you frozen. Sure, Jungwon had made questionable comments in the past, but nothing as simple as this specific look. You weren’t sure what it was.

Your eyes flickered down to his hand, still holding yours. You felt your heart rate pick up as you realized the proximity you were in.

As if nothing happened, Jungwon slowly tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you like you were the only person on earth.

You felt your mind start to go fuzzy as you thought about him.

In that moment, it felt like you two were the only people alive to feel anything. It felt like all the world’s people’s emotions had swirled around the two of you, catching you in a deadly storm, of which neither of you wanted to escape.

In that moment, you felt everything and nothing all at once.

In that moment, it was just Jungwon.

And in that moment, you took the risk to lean into him softly place your lips on his.

The months of secret yearning spilled into the car and into the kiss. Before you could even realize what happened, you pulled away.

You were terrified. You swallowed deeply and looked at Jungwon, who seemed equally as shocked. You then mumbled a quiet “goodbye” as you left his car and ran into your family’s apartment complex.

You didn’t look back to watch him drive away silently.

xvii. NEITHER OF US PLANNED IT

You knew you were screwed. You knew you were plainly, simply, just screwed.

There was no one you could talk about last night with. Wonyoung already thought you had been dating Jungwon for some time now, and Minji and Gyuvin knew you two weren’t actually together. If you told them what happened, you were almost 100% sure you would never hear the end of it.

You obviously wouldn’t talk to Jungwon about it, either. Why the fuck would you talk about the elephant in the room to the elephant in the room?

You’d been freaking out all morning and nothing was easing your mind. One way or another, you’d have to face Jungwon today. You were nearly sick to your stomach thinking about it.

You were already at Wonyoung’s, but you were silently freaking out in her guest bathroom while she was getting ready. You almost threw up while you thought about the night to unfold. Your hands were sweaty, stomach sick, and head hurting. You weren’t sure how you’d survive the evening.

You took a deep breath and walked back into Wonyoung’s room, her already finishing her makeup and hair, still dressed in her pajamas, as putting the dress on was the last step.

She turned her head to you with a concerned expression as you trudged through the door, not even trying to hide your emotions at this point.

“What’s wrong, drama queen?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at you.

You sighed dramatically into her mattress after flopping yourself loudly onto it.

“Okay…” she laughed, “Well if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

“I just hate emotions.” You grumbled.

She laughed again, “Okay, me too. Wanna tell me why?”

You groaned, “No.”

Roughly an hour and half later, you two were both ready to be picked up by your dates. Before the dance, there were pictures to be taken, and a dinner to be eaten, and then you could finally go to the dance, which started at 7:30.

Taesan and Wonyoung chattered in the front seat while you and Jungwon remained dead silent, not even looking at each other.

The car ride stayed exactly like that during the twenty minute drive.

Once you all arrived at the park to take pictures, you lifted yourself out of the car and walked to wherever Taesan and Wonyoung were leading.

At the pavilion, you took the time to fix some strands of your hair and flatten any creases in your dress, which was blue, Jungwon’s favorite color.

Even though you were originally standing alone, Jungwon soon made his way towards you. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “You, uh… you dress well for the occasion.” You could tell that he was flustered, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you were too. You were just glad he didn’t bring up the incident from the night prior.

You laughed shyly, “I mean, of course. I was planning on getting my heart broken tonight after all.”

“I mean, we did agreed to keep this act going,” he replied, “We can’t have me breaking your heart while you look so pretty.”

Your heart started racing like you’d just ran a marathon. Trying to stay calm, all you could muster back was “thanks”.

Some pictures and a dinner later, you and your group arrived at the location where the dance would be held, which was none other than the downtown’s Music Hall.

As you walked in with Wonyoung, you tried to take in everything that you could, from architectural designs to the art on the ceilings to the over-the-top decorations that Ivy Hills had created for the event.

It didn’t take long for her to grab your hand and pull you along to talk with some of her friends, one of them including Park Minju, who you’d first met around a month ago.

You surprisingly relaxed a lot during the dance, having expected the DJ to only play classy songs, but you were entirely shocked when Fire Burning by Sean Kingston blasted through the speakers.

Around half an hour later, you found yourself on a balcony from the top floor of the venue, needing some fresh air after sweating as much as you did. You didn’t expect to dance as much as you did, but nonetheless you still needed a break.

It was a lot colder outside than you’d anticipated it to be, somehow forgetting that the sun had already set. You didn’t really mind, though, as you were too lost in thought to even pay any attention to the weather.

Almost exactly a minute later, you heard an all-too-familiar voice from behind you. He slowly approached to stand next to you and asked, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, too lost in thought to really acknowledge him, “Yeah.”

“What’s up?”

“Just…” you finally looked at him, “just a lot going on right now.”

He chuckled a bit, “I get it.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as he tried to mimic your body language.

From inside the venue, your ears perked up at the sound of the DJ announcing the first slow song of the night, to which you groaned.

“What?” Jungwon questioned.

“Slow songs are just soooo corny. Especially at dances. It’s always either ‘Perfect’ by Ed Sheeran or ‘A Thousand Years’ by Christina Perri or ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ by Elvis.”

Jungwon shook his head in disbelief, “So you don’t like slow dancing?”

“It’s not that I don’t like slow dancing,” you replied, “the songs are just overplayed and corny.”

“I mean…” he started, “I completely disagree. I think it’s romantic. But, okay.”

“Of course you wouldn’t get it,” you retaliated, “you’ve never been to a public school dance. PDA is off the charts. It’s gross.”

“I’m sure of it,” he replied, “but PDA is off the charts here, too. You just don’t see it because these weirdos go hide in the unisex bathrooms and-”

“Ew,” you cut him off, “ew, okay. Stop there please.”

Jungwon laughed loudly, “Listen, this is how I can tell you only know the surface of private schools.”

“Yeah, and maybe I’d like to keep it that way. We’re graduating this month anyway, and I’ll never have to see anyone here again if I don’t want to.”

“Sounds like a dream,” he said, “where are you going for school?”

“I haven’t committed anywhere yet, is that bad?” You winced.

“No,” he assured, “definitely not. My parents wanted me to go to Yale but I ended up on Brown. Took me months to choose between Brown and UCLA.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed, “I got rejected from UCLA. I’m stuck between MIT and Brown. Yale accepted me, but they didn’t offer me enough. There’s no way in Hell that I’m paying twenty thousand a semester.”

“Yale didn’t even waitlist me,” Jungwon sighed, “my parents were so mad. Their next choice was Princeton or Brown, so I chose Brown to make them happy.”

“My parents just wanted me to go to the state school,” you said, “…good ‘ol Virginia Tech.”

“Not a bad school,” he answered, “but I understand your parents’ concerns. Moving out of state is hard. You’re their only child, too.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged, “I understood why. But I don’t think they understand how important education is to me… I don’t know.”

Jungwon smiled, “Well, if you go to Brown, just know you’ll have a friend there.”

You smiled back at him.

Noticing the song was over, you muttered, “Thank god.”

Just then, through the speakers, you heard the opening violin notes to one of your favorite childhood songs that your dad used to play for you on his CD player: ‘Come On Eileen’ by Dexy’s Midnight Runners.

You gasp in excitement, “I’d much rather dance to something like this.”

Jungwon laughed at your reaction, “Well, then can I have this dance?”

You tried to fight your smile, “Why yes, you can.”

Jungwon stuck out his hand to you, but instead of you grabbing it to slow dance, you linked his arm with yours and started making him do a strange folk dance with you, making him spin and dip you, and trying to convince him to let you dip him, but with no success.

Just as the song started, it ended. The DJ announced over the speakers that the king and queen of the ball would soon be announced.

Without saying a word, you followed Jungwon into the building and down the steps, towards where the crowd was forming.

To no one’s surprise, the queen was announced to be Wonyoung, and her king to be Taesan.

As they did their dance, you leaned towards Jungwon and whisper-shouted sarcastically, “Who would’ve seen this coming?”

He laughed at your comment and replied, “Right?”

A moment passes before he leans over again and asks, “Do you wanna go get something to drink with me? I need some water.”

You nodded and followed him back up the steps to the second floor where there were still people, but much less crowded than the bottom floor.

As he was walking, he looked over his shoulder at you and said, “I can finally hear myself think now.”

Once he got his water, you both retreated back to the initial balcony that he found you on earlier in the night. The silence was comforting, and you caught yourself trapped in your thoughts again.

Out of nowhere, Jungwon suddenly broke the silence:

“Did that kiss mean anything to you yesterday?”

Completely caught off guard, you replied, “Huh?”

Without missing a beat, he explained, “Like, when I dropped you off yesterday. Did that mean anything to you? I’m just confused ‘cause- I mean, I know it wasn’t for show. It was only the two of us in the car. I- I just want to know.”

You took a second to even process what he said to you. Sure, it was inevitable that he was eventually going to bring it up. But you didn’t think now was the moment, especially so soon.

Trying to find the right words, you responded, “Oh, um… I don’t know if this is a conversation we should have here and now… I mean… there’s people around and…”

Jungwon nodded stiffly.

“I…” you trailed off, “I think I’m going to go back downstairs.”

And just like that, you left Jungwon alone again.

xviii. ROLLER-COASTER KINDA RUSH

For the next few hours of the dance, you didn’t see Jungwon at all. In fact, he didn’t even ride with you, Taesan, and Wonyoung to Wonyoung’s afterparty. You were starting to worry that by you deflecting the conversation earlier, he took it as a rejection.

The next time you saw Jungwon was an hour into Wonyoung’s afterparty. You caught the slightest glimpse of him in the kitchen, but just as you’d seen him, he’d disappeared from your sight. You were beginning to believe you had started hallucinating him from how much he was driving you crazy.

However, once outside, you’d seen Jungwon’s car parked on the street across from Wonyoung’s mansion, and sighed in relief when you realized you weren’t actually losing your mind.

Near the end of the afterparty, Jungwon snuck up on you.

“Hey.”

You jumped, startled from the sudden appearance, “Hey. I haven’t seen you all night.”

His only response was a simple and short “yeah”. Before you both fell into an uncomfortable silence.

A couple of seconds later, Jungwon asked you, “Do you want a ride home?” He held up his keys.

You smiled at the gesture, knowing that otherwise, you’d have to find someone else to drive you home, and although Taesan drove you there, and he’d likely be staying the night, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“Sure.”

With the party already dying down, you made sure to say goodbye to Wonyoung and thank her for hosting. You gave her a small hug and watched as Jungwon dapped up Taesan.

The both of you walked to Jungwon’s car in silence down the driveway.

However, this time, you decided to bite the bullet:

“I think we should talk about what happened yesterday.”

You noticed Jungwon almost freeze in his spot for a second but he continued walking to his car.

All he could mutter out was another “yeah”.

Once you reached his car, he quickly put it in gear and started driving you home.

Jungwon didn’t say anything until he almost reached your apartment. He parked his car on the street, and got out to walk you to your door.

He sighed, yet started, “Listen, I know you’re getting paid from this. But we never needed to kiss to seal the deal…” he trailed off, “so I really don’t understand why that was a necessary part to the whole act and-”

“That wasn’t about the money.” You cut him off.

Jungwon slowly turned to look at you, confused, “What?”

“It-” you stumbled over your words, “it stopped being about the money a while ago.”

A small and barely audible “oh” escaped his lips, with an unreadable face.

“I-” you started, “I- I know that we’re supposed to sell this,” you motioned between the two of you, “thing for a long longer. I know that because we both agreed on it. But…” you trailed off, not sure what to say next.

You took a deep breath, “But what I say next might change the trajectory of this… friendship…” you shook your head, “…or whatever this is.”

Jungwon said nothing.

“But the truth is, I-” you sighed, defeated, “I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you. Not because of the stupid money, and not because of the validation I’d get from Wonyoung and Taesan.”

He stood still, motionless, still with an indecipherable expression.

Nearly to tears with frustration and stress, you continued, “I kissed you because… because I felt like it was right in the moment. And- and it’s okay if you don’t feel that way. And if that is the case, then I’m sorry for kissing you and making things weird between us.”

Sighing one last time, “And I know the unspoken rule of this whole thing was to not have any actual feelings for each other, but-”

“Y/N.” Jungwon cut you off.

Afraid that you went overboard, you muttered sheepishly, “…what?”

“Please,” he said, taking a step closer, “please, stop talking.”

You frowned, “Did I say too much?”

“No,” he laughed, “but if you never stop rambling, I won’t be able to tell you how I feel.”

“Um,” you said quietly, “sorry, what?”

You weren’t sure exactly what Jungwon meant by ‘telling you how he felt’ but you were nearly bracing yourself for the worst. You decided to keep quiet as to not disturb him.

“I want you to know something right off the bat,” he started, “okay?”

You nodded but still didn’t say anything.

“It was never about Wonyoung and Taesan for me,” he laughed, “Hell, I’m the reason that we were all forced to hang out, the four of us.”

He sighed, “Y/N, I’ve always admired you, but I never knew how to deal with it. Why? Because in all of my life, I have never had a girl distract me from school as badly as you did.”

Your eyes widened at the confession.

“The only reason that I’m ranked 2nd in math for our class is because you are 1st,” he continued, “And I used to really hate you for it, because who did this pretty girl think she was, coming into my school and usurping me of my top rank in the class?!”

You felt yourself flush at the compliment, but tried to stay as calm as possible.

Jungwon calmed down, “But… at a point, I realized that you never did it to spite me, and you were genuinely just that smart. Then, I got over myself.”

You nodded with furrowed eyebrows.

“But,” he sighed, “I knew I had already pushed your buttons so hard to the point that I really thought there would be no point of return…”

“…So, when you brought up the idea of fake dating me, I immediately said no, because I knew it wouldn’t end well for me,” Jungwon laughed bittersweetly, “But then you challenged me. And I love a challenge.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words, now noticing how closely he was standing to you. You opened your mouth to try and form a response, but the only thing that you said came out in a whisper:

“Wow… I don’t know what to say.”

He smiled brightly at you, grabbing your hand.

“I don’t think words can be used in this moment.”

As if he’d been doing it forever, Jungwon wrapped one arm around your waist and let the other cup your head. Slithering your arms around his back, you stood on your tippy toes.

This time, you knew you wouldn’t run away from his kiss.

a/n : aaaand it’s over meow meow meow sorry for the long wait but it seemed like life hasn’t been on my side for the past year. hope u guys enjoyed tho <3 this was a bit too happy ending for me and not nearly enough angst but whateva

[hanniebaeee]

Clueless: Just friends?

Lee Know x fem!reader

Warnings: language, suggestive content MDNI

Genre: friends with benefits to lovers, fluff

Summary: You and Minho used to be friends with benefits. Until you caught feelings, and you both called it off. But Minho obviously misses you and is miserable even though he doesn't want to admit it. And his brothers have had enough of his moping.

Clueless Masterlist

The arrangement with Minho had been perfect - or at least it had started that way. Opposite apartments on the same floor of your nice apartment building. You’d text each other, and within minutes, someone was at the other’s door. No strings, no drama. Just a lot of heat that left you breathless and a little sore the next day.

Until, of course, you did the one thing you promised yourself you wouldn’t do - you caught feelings.

And naturally, Minho, emotionally stunted and a menace to society, panicked. He started pulling away, making excuses every time you asked if he wanted to come over. The warmth in his teasing dimmed into something guarded.

And it hurt. A lot. His rejection wasn't something you had expected, because no matter what anyone said, he was so soft and sweet to you. But he obviously didn't want a relationship, and you both decided to stop seeing each other.

You missed him. Not just his touch, but everything else too. The way he always brought food over (making excuses about how he had extra), held you tight when you had a hard day and how his cats lived with you more than they did with him. Oh you missed the cats. They were literally your kids - and this dirty divorce had given him full custody of them.

And Minho? He was a mess. Not that he’d admit it.

And Jisung had had about enough of his best friend and his brooding.

---

Jisung: OKAY EVERYONE STOP.

Chan: What's up?

Hyunjin: What did you do?

Jisung: NOTHING. THIS IS ABOUT MINHO.

Seungmin: What did he do?

Jisung: He’s been moping for WEEKS. And I'm sick of it.

Changbin: You sure? That’s just his face.

Jisung: LISTEN. IT’S ABOUT Y/N.

Hyunjin: Ohhhhhh.

Felix: I KNEW IT.

Minho: What the hell is going on?

Jisung: OH LOOK WHO DECIDED TO SHOW UP. Jisung: YOU, SIR, ARE A DRAMA QUEEN.

---

Minho sighed. This was the last thing he needed right now.

---

Minho: I’m not moping.

Felix: Sure. And I’m not Australian.

Hyunjin: Yeah, totally not glaring at your phone at all.

Minho: It’s not about her.

Jeongin: Are you sure you didn't accidentally click her name in your contacts 12 times yesterday?

Chan: What's going on, Min?

Minho: I don't even know what you guys are going on about!

Minho: We were friends. With benefits. Not lovers. She was nice in bed. That’s it.

---

There was complete silence in the chat for a minute before it exploded.

---

Chan: No, Minho. No. No. No.

Seungmin: Okay, first of all, what the actual fuck?

Hyunjin: Bro, you did not just say that.

Jisung: YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING LOSER.

Changbin: 😡

Jeongin: Hyung, she's an angel, how could you?

Felix: We’re literally trying to save you from yourself.

Minho: Well don't.

---

Minho hated himself. He absolutely hated himself. But he couldn't dwell on the self hate because Jisung just sent a video of Minho pacing his living room like a caged animal, while ranting about you being gone.

---

Hyunjin: Wow. Ok.

Minho: 🙄

Minho: Stop. Just stop.

Chan: Look, you’re obviously miserable. Why not just talk to her?

Seungmin: Yeah, genius. It’s not like she doesn’t live 20 feet away.

Minho: What if she doesn’t feel the same?

Jeongin: I'm sorry, but you’re an idiot.

Hyunjin: Dude. She liked you enough to start this whole thing. You just have to get over your dumb commitment issues.

Changbin: Honestly, just confess. Worst-case scenario, you cry into Dori.

Minho: I hate you all.

Jisung: Hate is a strong word for someone who’s about to sob into his cat.

Minho: Fine. I’ll talk to her.

---

Minho sat on his couch, heart pounding as he stared at your number on his phone. He’d been backed into a corner by his idiot friends, and now there was no escape.

And knowing you, he had a feeling that this was going to be the single most difficult task ever.

With a frustrated groan, he stood and grabbed his hoodie. He was going to do this. Because he loved you so much, and he was miserable without you.

Across the hall, in your apartment, you were getting some work done, sipping on coffee. You heard the doorbell, and when you opened the door, you saw Minho - disheveled, nervous, and yet, as handsome as ever. And your traitorous heart did that stupid thing it always did around him.

“Hey,” he said softly, eyes meeting yours. “Can we talk?”

Minho hadn’t been this nervous in a long time. He stood at your doorstep, heart racing, and palms sweaty, his usual confidence nowhere to be seen.

And he confessed. Nothing dramatics. Just a straightforward, “I love you.”

You'd stared at him as if trying to figure out if he was high. Or had hit his head somewhere. Or if he was simply horny.

But no. Then came his little speech. I know I don't deserve you. I was an asshole (of course he was). I was afraid (as if you weren't). And more than anything - I hurt you. And I hate myself for it. Ok now that you could work with.

But as hard as you tried, sometimes you just couldn't contain that bratty side of you (one that he apparently loved).

You crossed your arms, glaring at him like he’d just run over your dog.

“You can’t just waltz over here, say ‘I love you,’ and expect me to fall into your arms,” you snapped, looking infuriatingly hot with your brows furrowed and your lips pursed in defiance. “You rejected me, Minho. Do you know much that hurt me?”

His stomach twisted.

“I… I wasn’t ready -” he stuttered, looking terrified.

“Yeah, well, now I’m not ready,” you said, taking a step back and slamming the door in his face for dramatic effect.

You leaned against the door, fuming and freaking out all together. Your hands shook so hard as you wrapped your head around the fact that Minho just confessed to you and you slammed the door on his face.

And Minho stood in the hallway, a mix of shock, frustration, and - God help him - arousal bubbling under the surface. You were bratty when you were mad, of course. It made him want to kiss you and throttle you all at once.

---

Minho: She hates me.

Hyunjin: No, she doesn't. She slammed the door on your face didn't she?

Minho: How the hell are you so accurately right?

Jeongin: It's his thing.

Felix: What happened?

Jisung: Wait. Did you confess?

Minho: YES.

Minho: AND SHE SLAMMED THE DOOR IN MY FACE.

Hyunjin: Obviously.

Chan: So she didn’t say no?

Jisung: LMFAO.

Jeongin: She’s mad at you? Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

Minho: SHE SAID A SIMPLE “I LOVE YOU” WOULDN’T WORK ON HER. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!

Seungmin: It means she’s not an idiot.

Changbin: Exactly. You rejected her and took months to realize you’re in love. She deserves a little groveling.

Minho: GROVELING?

Felix: Oh, for sure.

---

He was not groveling. No way. Lee Minho didn't grovel. Hell no.

---

Jisung: Yeah, buddy. You gotta pull out all the stops now. Dinner, flowers, interpretive dance. The works.

Minho: STOP.

Hyunjin: Actually, the dance idea is kinda sexy. Imagine Minho doing a hip roll to apologize.

Felix: STOP IT. I’M WHEEZING.

Minho: CAN YOU ALL BE SERIOUS FOR TWO SECONDS?!

Chan: Look, the point is, you hurt her feelings. You need to show her that you’re serious.

Minho: How?! She's a damn brat. She enjoys torturing me.

Jisung: If she’s a brat, she’s gonna want to see you sweat.

Minho: She frustrates me.

Jisung: So you're sure you're just frustrated and not turned on right now?

---

Damn Jisung.

---

Jeongin: YAHHHH

Felix: You’re INTO IT???

Changbin: My man’s in love AND down bad.

Minho: Please.

Felix: Okay, focus. If groveling isn’t your style, do something you.

Hyunjin: Yeah. Seduce her with your weird cat boy energy or whatever.

Minho: You’re all useless.

Seungmin: Says the man who just admitted to being horny and clueless.

Chan: Minho, she clearly wants you to prove yourself. You’ve got to show her you’re willing to put in effort.

Hyunjin: Write her a song. Serenade her. Cry through it.

Minho: I don’t cry.

Jisung: LIES. I’ve seen you cry at those pet videos.

Minho: JISUNG YOU'RE DEAD.

Minho: What if she never forgives me?

Jeongin: She will. She’s just mad. Just play along.

Hyunjin: He’s right. Drama makes us hotter.

Minho: You're all insane 🙄

Chan: Insane but not wrong. Now, go apologize properly.

---

Minho paced his living room, his mind racing through ideas - romantic dinner? A heartfelt speech? Maybe just tossing himself at your feet and begging?

He needed a plan.

---

Minho: Fine. Give me ideas to make her forgive me.

Jisung: OHOHOHOHOHO.

Felix: Oh, this is gonna be good.

Hyunjin: Okay, everyone, let’s brainstorm.

Changbin: Classic dinner and flowers. Can’t go wrong.

Jisung: No, no. She’s mad. You need to go BIG. Like, dramatic big.

Minho: Like what? Fall to my knees in the rain?

Hyunjin: YES. Bonus points if you sob.

Minho: I’m not doing that.

Seungmin: You’re all useless. Look, Minho, she’s mad because you hurt her. You need to make her feel special. Do something that shows you actually care.

Jisung: STRIPTEASE.

Chan: Jisung.

Felix: WAIT. THAT’S ACTUALLY KIND OF FUNNY.

Hyunjin: Picture this. You show up at her door, music playing, and just start taking things off.

Minho: I want to win her back. Not make her think I'm horny.

Jisung: Coward.

---

Obviously he knew this would happen. He knew it.

---

Chan: Okay, let’s regroup. Minho, what does she like?

Minho: Being mad at me, apparently.

Jeongin: Sounds like she has taste.

Minho: She likes reading. And baking. And…dancing.

Felix: Aha! Bake her something!

Hyunjin: And while it’s baking, do a little dance. Shirtless.

Jisung: OOOH. Combine the ideas. Show up with baked goods and then do the striptease.

Minho: Oh my God.

Seungmin: You could apologize like a normal person, you know.

Felix: Where’s the fun in that?

Jisung: No, no. We need something iconic.

Felix: Okay, serious suggestion: Show her that you actually listened to her. Her favorite food? Or something thoughtful that shows you care about what she likes.

Minho: Like…?

Hyunjin: Cook her favorite meal.

Chan: Or bring her flowers that mean something.

Jisung: Or do the striptease.

Minho: STOP WITH THE STRIPTEASE.

Felix: It’s not a bad idea, you know. Women love confidence.

Minho: I’ll do the cooking idea. But if this backfires, I'm gonna hunt each one of you down and then see what happens.

Jisung: Lies. You’ll be back to cry about it.

---

Minho got to work. He spent hours perfecting your favorite meal, rehearsing his apology in front the mirror, and trying not to think about how much he wanted to kiss you. God, he just wanted to cuddle you and tell you how much his life sucked without you in it.

When he finally knocked on your door, you opened it to find him standing there, holding so many containers of food and looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“Hi,” he said, voice soft. “Can I come in?”

You crossed your arms, and sighed.

"Minho, I really don't have the time-"

"I made your favorite," he said, holding up the containers. "And I will grovel if that's what it takes."

You did love it when he cooked for you.

“This better be good.”

Minho stood in your living room, wringing his hands as you sat on the couch, glaring at him. He set the food on the coffee table and looked at you, his sharp tongue failing him for once.

“I was afraid,” he finally said, voice low.

“Afraid of what? Being happy?” You asked, arching an eyebrow.

Minho winced.

“Yes. No. I mean…God, I don’t know. You’re everything to me, okay? And I was scared I’d ruin it. And then I did ruin it, and now I’m standing here like an idiot, begging you to let me fix it.”

“You… you really mean that?” You asked, your voice softer now, your eyes obviously filling up with tears.

“I’ve been a mess without you. I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, but I do. I love you, and I’ll spend as long as it takes proving it to you.” he whispered, and you sighed, standing up and stepping closer to him.

“You’re such a dumbass, you know that?”

“Yeah, I've been told.”

And then he cupped your cheeks with his hands and kissed you. Rough and messy, the tension melting away as your arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

“You better not mess this up.” you muttered against his lips.

“Not a chance.”

---

Minho: We’re trying the relationship thing.

Felix: OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG!!

Hyunjin: FINALLY.

Jisung: Thank you 🙏

Changbin: Congrats, lover boy.

Chan: Proud of you, Minho.

Felix: Did she like the food?

Minho: Um, it kinda went cold. She’s heating it up now.

Hyunjin: LMAO.

Jisung: What about the striptease? Did you do it?

Minho: 🙄🙄🙄

Jisung: ANSWER THE QUESTION, COWARD.

Minho: We did strip. So… hehe.

Felix: SIR.

Hyunjin: NOT THE “HEHE.”

Jisung: I CAN’T BREATHE.

Changbin: YOU DOG.

Chan: Minho, for the love of God.

Minho: You asked.

Jisung: My dude really said, “She forgave me, and then we got NAKED.” ICONIC.

Jeongin: Please. I just came here to see if Minho hyung was still single, and now I want to bleach my brain.

Chan: Can we not, for once, be so feral?

Hyunjin: You’re in the wrong chat for that, Christopher.

Jisung: Anyway, so… did you, like, destroy the house or… ?

Minho: I will never speak to any of you again.

Jisung: YOU CAN’T JUST DROP “WE STRIPPED” AND THEN LEAVE.

Felix: It’s called a cliffhanger, Ji. Let the man be mysterious.

Hyunjin: Yeah, mysterious about how whipped he is.

Felix: Totally

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @hanadulsetaad