#the last installation to this series <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miabebe · 4 months ago

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Accidentally Kidnapping A Mafia Boss (Yoon Jeonghan)

Reverse Trope Series Installment 2

Pairing - Yoon Jeonghan x afab!reader

Word Count - 70K 29K (please congratulate me, cutting down was the hardest thing I've ever done)

Genre - Strangers to something more I guess? Minimal crack (I had to choose between humour and sexual tension - it was painful, like choosing a favourite child), angst (just a small splash) and smut (loads of it, warnings under the cut)

Warnings - mentions of kidnapping and mafia, one scene where hands are thrown (But just to be clear, this is not like your usual mafia fics - it’s not dark or violent), mention of dub-con in OC's past

A/n -Those who are up to date with the teasers can jump directly for day 1 I guess! Anyways, this fic should have been a whole ass series, it was such a task finishing it in under 30K phew. I hope you enjoy this roller coaster - your comments, reblogs and tags are all very very appreciated! I shall put out an announcement when the next Reverse Trope installment is coming - for now, its time for Camp Seventeen!

Smut warnings - there's a bunch of call girls, masturbation-almost?, voyeurism, multiple smut scenes (3 or 4 idk), exhibitionism (nobody saw them though), fingering, oral (f receiving), protected sex, unprotected sex (please don't be stupid like them), multiple orgasms, oral (male receiving), okay I hope we're done

"You're being a real pain in my ass right now." "I don't see how it’s an issue since that’s not much of an ass." Seokmin glared at Seungkwan. "Just because some stupid college club awarded you a silly superlative-" "-best bakery in town is not a ‘silly’ superlative-" "-like once-" "-twice. In a row-" "-doesn't mean-" "-absolutely does-" "Will you two shut up?" You hissed under your breath looking around. "Are you trying to get us all caught?" Seungkwan clicked his tongue annoyed. "You're acting like we're in the middle of a crime." Your eyes flickered from Seokmin to Seungkwan before landing on the third guy in between them, the one who was unconscious and being held up with his arms thrown over the shoulders of his friends. "Last I checked, kidnapping is a crime." You pointed out. Seokmin rolled his eyes. "Prank-ing your friend isn't." "That is if Soonyoung decides he wants to save your sorry ass." "Again, not much of an ass-" "I swear to god Kwan-" Groaning you covered your ears to shut out all the bickering. That night when drunk Soonyoung had pushed your buttons, consequently leading to the events of tonight, you did not think it would be this hard.

The plan was simple - on Mondays, Soonyoung was in charge of closing the BBQ shop where all 3 of your closest friends worked. His routine was fairly straightforward - first he clears and cleans all the tables, then he closes the kitchen, then changes out of his uniform and finally wraps it up by locking the main door. That's where you would get him, right as he closed the doors. You were to take him by surprise from the back, cover his face with a black cloth bag, bring him to your apartment and tie him up leaving him immobile, blinded and helpless. One might wonder why such cruelty when you called him a friend but you would argue that Soonyoung deserved it. After all, last night he hadn't stopped mentioning how boring you were and how your life was so uninteresting and how you didn't have a single exciting adventure while he had a shit ton of them. Well, today you were about to give yourself, and him, a story to tell.

Now things did go according to plan, for the most part. Seokmin and Seungkwan were first reluctant to be a part of this madness but that was until you brought up the prospect of Soonyoung being scared enough to hopefully piss in his pants. Intrigued by the idea, they joined and all three of you waited in the bushes, watching your friend's silhouette moving around the shop, putting things away, cleaning up. Just as he reappeared after changing, hurriedly trying to leave the shop, the three of you got to action, approaching him silently from the back, swiftly holding him by the hands and putting the bag over his face. What you didn't take into account in this plan was just how much resistance Soonyoung would show, God knows why you didn't consider his adrenaline driven reaction, but man did he put up a fight. It was only natural you retaliate and so instinctively, you landed a smack on his head with the torch in your hand knocking him out, making him buckle into the pavement as the two other boys caught him, looking at you bewildered. That was perhaps just the beginning of your problems because now you had to very un-suspiciously drag a very unconscious man to your apartment in the dead of the night. It would have helped if this neighbourhood was even a little sketchy but being a quiet, painfully uneventful suburb meant even the smallest of things was seen with high scrutiny. So far, the three of you had somehow managed to make it from the restaurant to your building undetected but it was getting from the first floor to your house that was the real task since the building's resident old woman decided she wanted to feed the stray cats at 2 am.

"How much longer are we gonna have to do this?" Seungkwan groaned. "He's surprisingly not that heavy but my arm is starting to sleep." "Yeah, this joke isn't as funny anymore-" "Will you two just keep quiet?" You turned to them annoyed. "She'll be gone in a few minutes and then we can move. Didn't you two say you wanted Soonyoung to shut up for a few days?” Seokmin mumbled a yes under his breath while Seungkwan nodded hesitating. Hoping for some silence after this, you turned to watch the old woman stroking the cat softly as it slowly nibbled its food. Although your patience was really being tested, something told you if you didn't go through this plan, in another 40 years, you'd be exactly like that old lady - lonely, boring and feeding stray cats. Terrified by that thought, you held it together even though it took a whole 15 minutes for the scene to clear. As the three, no four of you, proceeded towards your apartment, the stray cat watched, licking its paw.

Seungkwan and Seokmin groaned in relief as they half threw Soonyoung onto the chair you pulled to the middle, rubbing their aching shoulders. Scouring the drawers, you pulled out a rope with a soft “aha” making them turn towards your unnaturally happy self. Soonyoung stirred in his chair. “You're a little too excited about this-” “Shhh!” You covered Seokmin's mouth with your hand, whispering. “If you talk, he'll know it's us, then it's not scary anymore.” “Frankly, I think the kidnapping and knocking him out cold must have been scary enough already.” “Not enough” You glared as Soonyoung let out a soft groan, letting you know he was coming around. “Quick, take out your phone and open one of those AI apps. We'll type what we want to say and use the bot voice - that way he'll have no idea.” All three of you huddled, glancing at the phone as Seungkwan typed something quickly, pressing play to let the low toned automated voice echo through the room. “I cannot wait to see Soonyoung shit his pants.” Seokmin giggled as your lips curled into a pleased smile. Oh, he was surely going to shit his pants. “And why would I do that?” Soonyoung's voice sounded confused. “Because we-” Seokmin looked up, freezing mid-sentence, noticing the voice did not come from the person before him. All three of you exchanged looks realising the same before slowly turning around. Soonyoung was standing at the entrance like he just walked in, looking bewildered. Before any of you could process the situation, he pointed over your shoulders, frowning.

“And who's that?”

Oh.

“And why is he wearing my clothes?”

Oh no.

You turned back to see the man in question, slowly pull the black bag from over his head, shaking his golden tresses away from his face. Oh lord was he gorgeous. As he blinked his eyes open, wondering where the hell he was, you were busy running your eyes all over his pretty features and suddenly, in that short span of 20 seconds, you had memorised where every single mole on his face was. Seokmin and Seungkwan meanwhile, held your arms on either side half hiding behind you which was stupid considering you were the biggest coward in the room. But somehow, as the man before you looked at all of you with narrowed, accusing eyes and tried to stand up, you swung your arm and smacked him right on the head with the torch again. All three boys gawked at you as the man fell back into the chair again, head rolling to the side, unconscious. “What the hell mate-” “I'm sorry I panicked!” “Will someone tell me what's happening? Why is he wearing my clothes-” “Shut up Soonyoung.” Seungkwan turned to you looking terrified. “Do you have any idea what you've done?” “Hey, this can't be just on me, we all thought it was Soonyoung-” “Me???” “-how is this only my fault-” “Because!” Seungkwan raised his voice pointing a shaking finger. “The man you just knocked out again, that's…that's….” “That's…” Seokmin's eyes widened in realisation. “That's the city’s most infamous mafia boss, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“They aren't picking up.” You sighed, pacing around the room. “Why aren't they picking up??”

All three boys who were perched on the breakfast bar shrugged, continuing to munch on their chocolate bars.

“Y’all are awfully calm considering the mess we’ve landed in.”

“The mess you landed us in.” Soonyoung, who had been filled about the situation, pointed out, licking his fingers. “If you hadn’t tried to pull that terrible prank on me-”

“Okay Kwon, I don’t need this right now.” You rolled your eyes and Soonyoung made a mocking face before returning to his snack. Sighing, you dialed the number again, hoping for a response at least this time.

“Voicemail. Again!” You squeezed your phone, nearly throwing it across the room, half screaming in frustration. The boys hissed, signaling you to shut up as you bit your tongue and turned towards the elephant in the room.

Well, not a literal elephant, he was barely one sixteenth its size, the figurative elephant, Yoon Jeonghan.

He still sat, unconscious and beautiful as ever, only his hands were now tied behind the chair, securing him in place. Seokmin insisted it was necessary considering this would be his second time attempting to try and escape. When you had expressed your confusion, Seungkwan pulled out his phone, flipped through his gallery and showed you a picture he had clicked in the city a few days ago - a poster with Jeonghan’s face on it, a text on the bottom.

Dangerous criminal Yoon Jeonghan escaped from prison on the 15th of August. Please be cautious and if seen, call the number below. A reward of 20,000 dollars is offered for any incriminating information.

The moment all of you finished reading, it was like a switch flipped.

Soonyoung immediately secured Jeonghan's hands, Seokmin darkened the room, turning off all the lights and Seungkwan shut all the curtains, shoving his phone into your hands. You though, just stood frozen, watching all of them getting to work, unable to comprehend the situation. It was only when Seungkwan shook you physically telling you to call that number that you finally came to your senses, quickly dialing it.

Since then, it had been over an hour and you had called almost 48 times unsuccessfully, much to your frustration but not so much to the boys. They simply continued to raid your snack drawer, chattering away in hushed whispers. You on the other hand wanted to pull your hair out.

“Why do you look so distressed hon?” Soonyoung looked at you, worried.

“Why?” You raised your eyebrows. “Why?? Can you not see why? Do you not understand how risky it is keeping him here-” You shot the unconscious man a glance, whispering. “What if he wakes up?”

“Then you knock him out again.” Seungkwan chuckled. “This is not a joke you guys.” You tried to be heard above all the reenacting and laughing. “I get that the 20k offer looks enticing but should we take a risk this big-”

“You think this is about the money?” Seokmin looked at you almost offended. “He’s a criminal Y/n, handing him over to the cops is doing what’s right! That’s our duty as responsible citizens-”

“Well this can’t be the only way to go about it? I’m sure there are other ways-”

“Like what?” Seungkwan frowned curiously.

“I don’t know.” You bit your lower lip, turning to Jeonghan, hands shaking nervously. “We could go out there and find a cop-”

“When was the last time you even saw a cop in this vicinity?” Soonyoung raised an amused eyebrow.

“Fine, then we’ll take him to the nearest police station?”

“That’s almost twenty five miles from here.” Soonyoung pointed out. “What if on the way he becomes un-unconscious-”

“Conscious.”

“-then wouldn’t we be in more danger?”

Sighing, you buried your face in your hands, shaking your head. “Oh god, how did we get ourselves stuck in a situation this terrible-.”

“Oh come on, it's not so bad.” Seungkwan clicked his tongue. “It's not like we're committing a crime, in fact we are doing the complete opposite of it, you should be proud of us.”

“I prefer my sanity over pride please, thank you.”

Soonyoung clapped his hand. “So let's get you your vanity back-”

“Sanity.”

“-the more we try to call that number, the sooner we manage to contact the cops and before you know it, he'll be gone and all of this will be over.”

Sighing, you handed the phone to him, gesturing that he try now, sick of hearing the voicemail message over and over again. No sooner after he reached for it, a loud ringtone began echoing in the room making all of you jump cause a. it was really loud and b. it was not coming from this phone…..

All four of you exchanged looks turning to the source of the sound - the pocket on the inside of Jeonghan’s jacket.

Noticing how Jeonghan was starting to slightly stir, Seungkwan quickly moved closer to him, pulling out his phone, fingers moving swiftly to mute. As it continued to vibrate in his hand, the rest of you gathered around, looking at the screen over his shoulder - Assistant 1, annoying, do not pick up. But before any of you had to make the executive decision whether or not to lift the phone, thank god for the timing, the call ended, allowing you all to take a sigh of relief.

Trying to catch your breath again, just as you almost moved back to your original position, it rang again, somehow even more loudly this time and like an idiot in his hurry, Seungkwan accidentally lifted the call, making you gasp and almost scream.

“No, don’t-”

“Boss.” Though it was barely audible, he sounded exasperated. “Please tell me you’re not with a girl.”

As Seungkwan put the call on speaker, the boys looked at you, signaling you to talk. Looking lost, you stuttered. “I uh…yes, he’s with me.”

“Of course he is.” His voice boomed in the room. “I need to talk to him.”

You hesitated, looking at Jeonghan still sitting slumped. “I’m afraid he can’t come to the phone right now.”

“And why not?”

“Cause he’s tied up?” You shook your head fast, when your friends looked at you wide eyed - now was not the time for truths??? “I mean he’s tied up with some work-”

“Oh please, there’s no need to cover up.” The man sounded amused. “I always had a feeling that this was one of his kinks.”

You looked at the screen mortified. Did he just say kinks? “I’m sorry what???”

“No, I’m sorry you’re stuck with that sadist of a man. If you’re free after you’re done with him, I assure you, I could show you a much better time.”

Gasping inaudibly, you felt the heat in your cheeks rising. “I’m not a…. no, god no. He’s tied up as in, unconscious and tied up. Kidnapped, unconscious and tied up.”

The boys’ jaws dropped in disbelief. What the hell were you blabbering?

“Did you just say you kidnapped him?”

Hands shivering you tried to shove the phone into someone else's hands, only for all of them to quite literally run away.

“Woman, I’m asking you something. Did you just say you kidnapped Jeonghan? The Yoon Jeonghan?” He paused, as you moved, standing in front of the man in question, watching him carefully. “Do you even know who he is?”

“I….yes.” You sighed, sweat rolling down your forehead. “Yes I know who he is and look, it's a long story that I can’t explain right now and I’m sorry you had to find out this way but I’m calling the cops and handing him over tonight.”

“You called me to tell me that you were handing him to the cops?”

“Actually you called-”

“And for what? That measly twenty k?” He scoffed. “I know what you’re doing here - I’ll give you thirty in exchange for him.”

And suddenly, all the boys were around the phone.

“No thank you.” You shook your head. “This isn’t about the money, it’s about doing the right thing and that is to hand him over-”

“Wow you’re really playing that card?” He sighed. “Fine, I’ll give you fifty.”

At this point, Seungkwan lunged for his phone, narrowly missing it as you swiftly moved your hand away, surprised.

“Seventy five?”

Seokmin tried to reach for it too, but you were too quick for him too, moving away, looking at them incredulously. What the hell were they doing now?

“Final offer, a hundred thousand or I have other ways-”

“Done.” Soonyoung, the nimblest of them all, quickly grabbed the phone from your hands talking into it. “Hundred thousand and he’s yours.”

“Kwon-”

Seokmin covered your mouth, holding you back. “We want it in cash.”

“That might be an issue-” The man on the phone let out a tired breath. “-things are tight now, cash will be hard.”

“It’s cash or he goes to the cops.” Seokmin continued, still holding you back with his strong arms, rendering your struggles pointless.

The line went quiet on the other side. The boys look at each other, worried.

“Fine.” He finally agreed as they sighed in relief. “But I’ll need about ten days to arrange for it.”

“We are in no hurry.” Seungkwan added. “Whenever you send the cash, we’ll send him.”

“And till then?”

“Till then, he’ll be here, with us.” Soonyoung confirmed, earning a protest from you that drowned out.

“I hope you remember that the cops are actively looking for him-”

“We do. Which is why you need to make sure the money reaches us by the tenth day.” Seungkwan pointed out. “Otherwise you know where he’s going.”

“No don’t….” The man sighed. “There’s no need to make such hasty decisions, you’ll get your money.”

“Good, keep in touch on this number and let us know when you have the cash ready and….that's all, okay bye.”

Seungkwan spoke quickly before he cut the call and all the boys looked at each other amazed. When Seokmin finally released you, he shrieked as you landed a few harmless punches on him, hard and fast.

“Are you insane???” You looked around. “Are all of you insane?”

“Hon,” Soonyoung held you by the shoulders, shaking them. “It’s a hundred thousand dollars-”

“I thought it was not about the money.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you wanted to be a responsible citizen-”

“Oh please it’s always about the money.” Seokmin walked over and fell back onto the couch. “A hundred thousand dollars, wow, I’ve never even heard of so much money in my life.”

“Can’t believe I’m going to be a millionaire.” Soonyoung joined him on, earning an eye roll from you.

“How exactly?” You crossed your arms. “It’s twenty five thousand dollars a person.”

“So you are agreeing to be a part of it!” Seungkwan clapped happily, ignoring your words of protest. “We’re all going to be so rich.”

“Twenty five thousand dollars isn’t exactly a fortune-”

“It might not be for you, but not all of us have dropped out of college and are running our own freelance business from the comfort of our grandmother’s apartment.” Seokmin pointed out. “We could really use the money.”

“That’s fair but-”

“No ‘buts’ now.” Seungkwan raised his hand to stop you. “Come on Y/n, do this for us? All we ask is for ten days. Don’t you remember when you moved to this locality, we were the only ones there for you? For 2 whole years we’ve been with you through thick and thin-”

Thud.

Seungkwan stuttered to a stop, turning around at the sound. The rest of you shifted around too to see what happened, heartbeat rapidly rising when you realized that Jeonghan was stirring awake..... and more importantly, the knot that “believe me I'm an expert” Soonyoung had tied around his hands had come undone, the rope falling to the floor.

Wincing, Jeonghan opened his eyes slowly as all of you froze, watching the infamous mafia boss raise his head, blinking in the darkness.

You panicked, noticing that your one and only weapon here, your trusty torchlight, was far from you, right by his foot. Wondering if it was dark enough, considering the room was only lit by the soft and minimal glow of the streetlights pouring in, you slowly inched towards Jeonghan who still seemed like he hadn't fully come around. Just as you reached him, bending to pick up the torch, Seungkwan, who was inching back to press himself against the wall and somehow blend into it, pressed against the switches, the lights instantly turning on, illuminating the whole room.

Jeonghan slowly looked up, eyes meeting yours, lips parting softly.

You opened your mouth to scream or say something, you can’t remember what exactly, instead resorting to just staring at the way his hair beautifully framed his face, long eyelashes touching the curve of his cheeks as he blinked. As you continued to remain frozen, his eyes ran over the features of your face, before his lips curled into a small smile.

“I love you.”

You snapped out of your trance in a second, jaw dropping.

“God I really love you.” He repeated, as you quickly grabbed the torch and moved back hurriedly and Seokmin, clearly your most sensible friend, quickly got up, putting himself between you and Jeonghan.

“What did he say?” Seokmin looked at you over his shoulder, mumbling.

“You’re….” Seungkwan took a small, careful step. “You’re not mad?”

“My head does hurt like a bitch.” Jeonghan cocked his head at you who was half hiding behind your biggest friend. “But I would have been more mad if I was in jail compared to waking up in….” He looked around again. “.....whatever this is.”

“My house.” You muttered, gripping the torch as Soonyoung slowly and silently walked around, kicking the rope under the sofa, before he joined you, looking casual as ever.

“Yes, jail would be bad.” He agreed. “But here, you’re totally safe, no stress at all.”

“And why exactly?” Jeonghan frowned, eyes flickering over all of you. “Obviously you know who I am. Why aren’t you handing me to the cops?”

“That's um…because….” Seungkwan mumbled, putting his arm around your shoulder, with a firm nod. “Because of her uncle.”

You blinked at him.

You had no uncle.

“M-mine?”

“Yes, her uncle was….unfairly arrested by the cops last year, they sort of put him away for good so uh….helping you is, in a way, our revenge against this foul legal system.”

Jeonghan didn’t look even a little convinced. Maybe just a little when he looked at you with an eyebrow raised in question and you hesitatingly nodded.

“Okay, y’all are clearly a weird bunch but I'm not going to question it since whatever this is, it's helping me out.” He got up, wincing as he held his head. “and now I'll get going-”

“No!” All three boys screamed, taking both Jeonghan and you aback, ears almost ringing.

“We mean…” Seungkwan started at a much softer tone. “You can’t go out right now, it’s not safe for you.”

“I am aware,” Jeonghan patted his pockets as though he was searching for something. “I need to call my people and find them in the city again. Once they arrange a way for me to permanently leave the country, I'll be safe, finally-”

“You are safe here too.” Soonyoung quipped. “There’s no place better than this neighbourhood - it’s quiet, almost thirty miles from the city, filled with senior citizens who are absolutely cut off from the world - they probably don’t even know who you are.”

“Most importantly,” Seokmin added. “Because this place is so dull, cops don’t even come here, hell the closest police station is over twenty five miles away.”

“Huh” Jeonghan looked thoughtful, continuing to slide his hands into all his pockets one by one, mumbling. “I can't find my phone-”

“It probably fell when you were running around-.” Seungkwan gripped the bulge in his back pocket where Jeonghan’s phone was tucked away. “-now that you can't contact your…gang? it'll be dangerous for you to go unguided.”

“Exactly.” Soonyoung stepped up. “Say you give it some time, maybe 10 ten days or so for things in the city to cool off a little and then you can go, find your people and leave the country?”

Jeonghan started at the floor as though he was mulling over it, each passing second feeling like almost an hour.

Finally he looked up, slowly nodding, much to everyone's relief. “I guess I could?” He held the bump on his head again, wincing in pain. “First I'm gonna need a shower and a meal.” He looked at you, lips curling into a small smile. “Is knocking people out your only talent or can you whip up a ramyeon too?”

Tearing your eyes away from his intense gaze you mumbled that you could, earning a two finger salute from him before he disappeared behind the door of the bathroom.

As all of four of you collectively let out a sigh of relief, Seungkwan shoved Jeonghan’s phone into your hands.

“Keep this safe and keep him safe.” He looked around at everyone. “We need to continue making him feel as though living here for 10 days is good for him, not us.”

“Agreed.” Seokmin hummed. “He cannot, at any cost, know he’s being held for ransom. God knows what he might do then.”

“I still can’t believe it though.” Soonyoung let out a low whistle, looking around almost proud. “I can’t believe we accidentally kidnapped a mafia boss.”

“Smells fucking good.”

You bit back a gasp hearing Jeonghan’s voice from behind you, right at the shell of your ear as you stood behind the stove, stirring his meal. Gulping you turned, regretting it immediately when you found yourself inches away from him yet again but this time, he was standing in just his towel, blonde wet hair falling into his eyes, rivets of water running down his smooth abdomen. As your eyes found their way back up again, Jeonghan smirked at you.

“Strange.” He cocked his head at you. “On one hand you seem so meek and quiet, yet no one has ever really looked at me the way you do.”

Please don’t say things like that.

Feeling unnaturally hot, perhaps because you were sandwiched between a boiling pot of noodles and a man this attractive, you turned away, turning off the gas, wiping the sweat running down your neck.

Jeonghan chuckled. “I need something to wear. Think you got anything?”

You nodded, setting the pot down, before moving away from him (thank god) and walking into your office room. Jeonghan followed at a distance, shaking off the water in his hair, looking around confused as he stepped in.

“Aren’t you a bit too old to play dress up?” He pointed at the mannequin in the corner donning a pretty maroon half finished dress.

“That’s…. My work.” You confessed, going through a stack of clothes in the drawers on the far end.

“You made that?”

You nodded softly. “Yeah I’m sort of a freelance fashion designer.”

“For who, the dead?” He frowned. “Who even wears clothes like these anymore?”

Trying not to get too offended, you pulled out the pair of pajamas you were looking for and turned to him. “It’s for the main lead of the new Macbeth play. I, uh, custom make clothes for theater productions and stage plays.”

“Ah.” He nodded looking around at the large table filled with all kinds of measuring tapes and scissors and big shelves stacked with materials of all kinds, two sewing machines lined up against the wall. “Interesting.”

You're not really sure what he found so fascinating but you cleared your throat, trying to change the topic.

“I only have this that might fit you.” Walking over, you handed him a neatly folded purple checkered pajama set. “I made it for my…. for someone a few years back but he didn’t like the colour so it's brand new.”

“I love purple.” Jeonghan grinned, taking it from you, immediately slipping on the shirt. “By someone else, do you mean one of the boys?”

You shook your head. “No, I never make clothes for them, my style is a bit too…. um old fashioned?”

“You continue to surprise me.” He looked at you thoughtfully. “Old fashioned with clothes but open minded enough to live with three men.”

You blinked stupidly. “I don't live with three men.”

“Oh they don’t live here?” Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “You four aren't a thing?”

“Four? As in all four of us??.….” You looked at him wide eyed and scandalized. “Of course not! How could you even think that, w-what does that even mean-”

“Okay relax princess.” Jeonghan took a step back, raising his hands. “Even if you were, it’s cool. I don’t judge.”

Definitely not relaxing, you looked everywhere but at him, heat continuing to rise uncomfortably in your body.

Jeonghan looked at you amused, biting his lip. “But I will judge if you continue to stand here and watch me wear the pants.”

Shaking your head and apologising, you practically ran out of there, heart racing in your chest as you leaned against the kitchen counter, hands gripping the edge. The kind of things he said, the way he looked….Please please please stop it.

Trying your best to push him out of your mind, you got back to the stove, grabbing the pot and placing it on the table. You stared at it for a bit before sighing and pulling out a few of your mom’s sides from the fridge, adding it to his meal. As you poured out a glass of juice, Jeonghan walked up, rubbing his hands, pulling the chair and sitting down.

“You put sides and all? Sweet.”

He grabbed the pair of chopsticks and took a large bite, humming in relief. You knew it was burning hot, but he was probably way too hungry to care because the speed made it look like he was inhaling it.

“Sit.” He looked up mid bite. “I don’t like eating alone.”

Although you didn't wish to be in his presence for long, you sat down, unable to say no. The entire time, Jeonghan ate quietly, tasting all the sides, drinking the juice in between, loudly smacking his lips after every bite. After devouring it all in less than five minutes, he raised the bowl to his mouth, downing all the soup, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That was so delicious princess, I almost wanna stay here all my life.” He got up, stretching as he did. “But unfortunately 10 days is all we have.”

Silently, you half nodded, gathering all the dishes he had left on the table, taking them to the sink. Jeonghan watched you, please stop looking at me, and when you returned to wipe the table, he leaned in, for the third time tonight, putting his face incredibly close to yours. “You’re a tough nut to crack, but I think I’ll have you all figured out in ten days.” As you tried to move further back, unable to breathe in the proximity, he moved closer, smirking. “Goodnight princess.”

And with that he walked off, turning into your bedroom, closing the door behind him.

You simply stared, rapidly blinking, heart refusing to calm down, chest heaving as you struggled to breathe.

And this was just day zero of ten.

Day 1 of 10

“Yoon Jeonghan has to go.”

Soonyoung, Seungkwan and Seokmin looked up from their dinner as you slammed the restaurant door open. Immediately panicked and looking around, they pulled you to their table, shushing you with hushed voices.

“What is wrong with you-” Seungkwan hissed as Seokmin went over to the only other people in the shop, the two old ladies sitting in the corner, trying to distract them with some free tea. “-you can’t go around screaming his name.”

“You don’t understand.” Leaning back into the chair, you sighed. “I cannot be around him, I can’t handle it….”

“What did he even do?” Soonyoung looked at you curiously and Seokmin returned, settling in his chair.

And then you began to spill the details of all the events, starting from the moment he took over your bedroom last night.

Yes you lived in a decently sized two bedroom house but with one room converted into your workspace and the other occupied by Jeonghan, you had no choice but to take the extremely uncomfortable couch in the living room. Of course you were already drifting in and out of sleep because of all the pain in your back and like that was not enough……

As though on cue, the lady who lived in the apartment above yours walked in, her pleasant expression turning almost disgusted as her eyes fell on you and you knew precisely why - because of all the obnoxiously loud moaning last night.

Seokmin watched the two of you, eyes narrowing. “Why is she looking at you like that?”

Voice shaking, you told them.

“Wait wait wait.” Seungkwan interjected, jaw dropping. “You’re telling me he didn’t just sleep in your room but also…. also brought home a woman?”

You nodded. For a hot second, last night you thought you were dreaming or imagining those sounds. As you focused, listening harder you realised they were the moans of an actual woman, coming straight from your bedroom, followed by Jeonghan’s soft grunts. And lord, the things he was saying??

Are you even trying? Is that the best you can do?

Oh, you feel good? Where are your manners then? Be a good girl and thank me.

You’ll do anything, won’t you? This is all you’re good for - a set of wet and wanting holes.

“So you think he brought home a whore-” You winced at the word, making Seokmin immediately change his statement. “-a person, a professional, and had a love making session in your room? On your bed?”

“I don’t think it, I know it.” You groaned. “And that was no love making, it was loud and-” You gulped, pressing your legs together, trying to ignore the feeling between them. “-and just disturbing.”

“I understand it’s hard for you,” Seungkwan started. “But if it’s just that one thing-”

“Oh no no it’s not just that one thing.” You sat up, ready with a whole mentally prepared list. “That's what I slept to, guess what I woke up to? A delivery man with nearly 30 packages of all sorts of things he ordered online for his ‘ease’ because he ‘can’t live without them’ and you might wonder what the issue with that is? It is the fact that he had me pay for it and it wasn’t five or ten dollars, I paid seven thousand dollars in the morning-” All the boys' jaws dropped. “-that’s right I paid seven thousand for his things which he, by the way, made me sit and open because his ‘head hurts too much’.”

“Okay, we get it-”

“And he keeps wearing all my clothes! Not mine, I mean the ones I make-” You corrected when the boys looked at you weirdly. “This morning he wore the pure white cashmere sweater I spent hours making for the evil queen in Snow white. Now it sits in my house decorated with polka dots of ramyeon soup.”

“Oh-”

“And he never cleans up after himself! He expects me to cook, sits and eats and then just leaves when he’s done?! He drops crumbs everywhere, he doesn't put things back in their place, I'm-”

“Breathe hon breathe,” Soonyoung rubbed your back. “He's inconvenient and it sucks, we get it but….but it’s only been a day?” He looked around, pausing as the lady above your house collected her food and walked past, face turned away from you. “What about the rest of the time? Did he bother you in any way?”

“Not really.” You sigh. “He pretty much minds his own business. He was either sleeping or watching tv the rest of the time…and also going through all my fashion magazines, with potato chip dust on his fingers by the way-”

“Alright, alright, we get it, he’s a pain.” Seungkwan looked at you a little pleadingly. “But you do know, given our current situation, we don’t have a choice but to house him for another 9 days.”

“Kwan, It’s still not too late to hand him over to the cops-”

“Please.” Seungkwan pleaded, hands joined, ready to fall to his knees if needed. “We’ll give you a higher share of the ransom if you want-”

“You think money is the issue?”

“Of course it’s not, he’s an idiot to suggest that.” Seokmin interrupted. “It’s not about the money Y/n, just…. do it for us? Think about how you could reform the three of our lives. We could go from busting our asses waiting tables here to maybe owning our own little shop. Don’t you want that for us?”

You stared at Seokmin’s puppy face then at Soonyoung’s big eyes then at…..whatever cute expression Seungkwan was trying and failing to make. If you could help improve the lives of the friends who were closest to you, maybe you can hang in there for a few days?

You could not. You most definitely could not. And you realised that the moment you excitedly stepped into your house again with a generous amount of packed late night snacks.

Clothes - Jeonghan’s and a woman’s - were strewn all over the house, right from the main door to the bedroom as though they couldn’t wait for even the five seconds it took to walk the minimal distance. As you heard a guttural moan, you shut your ears, preparing for yet another night of suffocating yourself under your pillow.

Day 2 of 10

“I got you some DakGalBi.” Soonyoung raised the familiar black bag of the bbq shop before him as you sighed.

“I made the same thing for lunch.”

“You did?” He looked surprised. “I thought you didn’t know how to.”

“I don't, I watched a few videos; followed a cookbook.” You mumbled. “Jeonghan said he wanted to eat.”

“Is he still bothering you?” Soonyoung asked concerned, eyes running over your tired features. By bothering if he meant taking over every aspect of your life and not giving you the freedom to breathe peacefully in your own house, then yes, Yoon Jeonghan was absolutely bothering you. Did you tell Soonyoung that though? No, because 1, just yesterday, you had told your friends that you would “hang in there” and 2, you most definitely couldn’t hang in there and were already secretly planning ways to oust Jeonghan from your house.

The journey to making this decision started the moment you woke up. It was yet again to the sound of knocking except, it wasn’t on your door, it was coming from your home office. Wondering what in the world Jeonghan was doing there, you quickly kicked off the covers and jumped to your feet, walking over. At first glance, you didn’t spot him inside and then your eyes found a complete stranger drumming her fingers on your sewing machine. You stood frozen, fully taken aback as she looked at you, your favorite coffee mug in her hand as she sipped out of it.

“This dress could use a deeper neck.” She pointed at the one on the mannequin and then at herself. “Like this.”

You refused to look at her plunging neckline out of which all her….assets were spilling out. God knows why you couldn’t refuse to take her opinion on your work or tell her to get the hell out of your house. Instead, you just continued to stand frozen until you felt Jeonghan’s presence behind you.

“What are you doing here?” He sounded like he just woke up, voice just a little deep and husky.

“I was curious what was in here-”

“I mean what are you still doing here?” He walked up, putting himself between the two of you. “You were supposed to leave after you were done.”

“It was raining outside, I couldn’t go.” She muttered, looking at him hopefully. “Besides I wanted to see you in the morning before I go-”

“I don’t.” He cut her off, pointing over his shoulder. “Get going.”

“But-”

“Go.” He repeated, more firmly this time.

Looking mad, she slammed the coffee mug on the table and grabbed her bag from the floor. As she walked up to Jeonghan and tried to plant a kiss on his cheek, he turned his face away, “Don’t cross the line. Get out.”

Huffing she left, the sound of the front door closing resounding behind her. Jeonghan turned to you, rolling his eyes, looking at you like you’ll understand. “The audacity when she can’t even deepthroat without gagging.”

You didn’t understand. You didn’t want to understand. You just wanted him to stop saying these kind of things. Please please please shut up.

When he walked away, yawning and stretching, you grabbed the coffee mug, nearly crying at the sight of a neat brown ring of coffee imprinted on the paper.

Oh yeah, Yoon Jeonghan had to go.

Now you would have told all this to the boys but you knew they would tell you to ‘adjust for a few days’ and as always, you'd give in, regardless of the fact that you wanted this man’s entire existence obliterated from your life. So you decided to handle things differently now - you would get Jeonghan out of your house without the boys realising you had a hand in it - that way you'd be free and they couldn't blame you. You weren’t quite sure how to go about this plan but that was until you went to the grocery store in the afternoon to buy some ingredients for lunch.

The biggest drawback of this suburb was that there was barely anyone below the age of twenty who could help you out with your predicament except for the cashier's grandson, Minguk. Minguk lived in the city, but over the weekends, he came to help his grandmother, greeting you every time you crossed paths. You weren’t really close friends but he was always nice to you, helping you reach things from the higher shelves, offering to carry heavier items to your house. If anyone here could recognise Jeonghan and help you out, it had to be him.

That’s why when you went to the shop, you told the old lady you needed a big bag of rice, twenty five kgs of it for some big rice starch cloth experiment, asking if Minguk could drop by later and bring it to your house. She agreed happily, stating she would get him to do it the moment he came in the evening and you left, waiting for said evening and said moment to arrive.

Your prediction for the events that would follow today went somewhat like this - Minguk would come home, notice and recognise Jeonghan, ask you to get behind him while they fought and Minguk would knock down Jeonghan’s skinny ass stick figure, then make sure to hand Jeonghan to the police while you sadly told BooSeokSoon it was unfortunate that things unfolded this way.

Now for this whole plan to be successful, you needed Soonyoung to get out of the house as soon as possible because Minguk could come any moment now. Hence you resorted to answering all of the former’s questions with short, simple replies, hoping this conversation would end fast.

“No he’s not still bothering me.” “You sure? You-” “Absolutely.” “Again, we’re sorry that this-” “No worries.” Soonyoung frowned, confused at your curt answers. “Where is he now?” “Bathroom, showering I think.” “What did he do before lunch?” “Waited for lunch.” “What did he do after lunch?” “Nothing.” You shrugged. “Claimed he was bored, sat in my home office and watched me sketching for hours together.” “He was…. just watching you?” “Not the whole time, he fell asleep in between…”

You recalled how hearing his soft snores, you looked up from your work, eyes falling on him leaning back against the bean bag, drifted off in a pleasant slumber. As you glanced at him, noticing just how sharp his jaw was and how high his cheekbones sat, his lips curled into a small smile. You’re giving me that look again, princess. After that, you didn’t take your eyes off your work even once.

“I think he fell asleep?”

“Did you get any sleep?” Soonyoung looked over your shoulder at your bedding still on the couch. “Did he… you know, bring someone last night too?”

You nodded, but brushed it off immediately. “It’s fine, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I promised you guys 10 days, I’ll deliver.”

Soonyoung looked relieved, before he glanced at his watch, face morphing in worry. “It’s nearly peak hour, I gotta go back to the restaurant.”

You agreed to him, assuring him you were fine when he asked you again, waving goodbye as you shut the door behind him.

Minguk would be here any minute now, and if all went well, you’d finally be free again.

Day 3 of 10

All did not go well.

In complete contrast to what you had imagined, here you were, yet again cooking lunch for Jeonghan, still absolutely sleep deprived and there he was, lying sprawled on your couch, going through your books, just like yesterday. Only difference was, Seokmin was on call, the sound of him chewing his apple ringing in your ears.

As you moved around to make Kalguksu, Jeonghan’s order of the day, Seokmin spoke into your ear. “So you're saying he's not too bad to live with?”

Bad? Bad was an understatement. Living with Yoon Jeonghan was the absolute worst. Just this morning, when you had stepped out to check your mailbox, your neighbour coincidentally returned from her morning walk, greeting you with a hard smile, asking why you looked so tired. You told her you had a lot of orders to work on, claiming you had to stay up all night to finish it and to that she said, “Yes, I think everyone in this building can tell what exactly you are doing staying up all night.”

Never in your life before that statement did you want to be swallowed by concrete. You knew last night must’ve been particularly more noticeable because the women so far were moaners but this one….. Oh she was a screamer; so loud not even your pillow could save you. Thank god she was gone by the morning but so was a very treasured dress of yours, one you gifted by your mother. When Jeonghan woke up, he mumbled something about how her clothes tore, and she grabbed something from your cupboard before he went off to take a shower.

“Yes, he’s not too bad.” You replied, glad Seokmin couldn't see your sarcastic expression.

“I had a feeling he was a chill guy from the first time we saw him-” Seokmin continued to loudly chew on call. “-he seems kinda calm and knowledgeable?”

Yes, if only Seokmin heard all the 'instructions' Jeonghan loved to give his lady friends at night, he would know just how knowledgeable this man was. Although he did say something that you were thinking about for a while now…

“Min.” You slid onto the kitchen counter. “Do you think Minguk has a crush on me?”

“Minguk as in supermart granny’s grandson Minguk?” Seokmin chuckled. “Yeah, obviously, a mega huge one.”

“What?” You looked at your phone betrayed. “How could you not tell me?”

“I assumed you knew and didn’t care?” Seokmin sounded nonchalant. “Since you know, he already has a girlfriend?”

That’s what you had said too, last night when Minguk came over and all did not go well.

Initially, it was going according to plan though. A few moments after Soonyoung left, Minguk arrived at your door, carrying a huge sack of rice, half panting as he smiled at you. Given that Jeonghan was still in the bathroom, you engaged him in casual conversation, hoping the man who usually showered in under 5 minutes, would finally come out after the two hours he had been holed up in there. Just as you were running out of stupid questions to ask, Minguk looked over your shoulder, forehead slowly pulling together in a frown as you heard footsteps behind you. Finally finally finally, please help me-

“Who is that?” He pointed, looking confused. Did he not recognise….?

You turned, as Jeonghan approached you, your eyes widening as they landed on him - he had dyed his golden blonde hair into a dark jet black, the length of it also a lot shorter now, the pieces framing his face pushed back in a way even you could barely recognise him. You continued staring as he walked over, throwing his arm around your shoulder, glancing at Minguk.

“And who is this?”

Tearing your eyes away from him, you looked at Minguk, almost at a loss of words, “T-this is Minguk, he works um in the supermarket nearby, he’s my friend and this is uh….” You gulped, the weight of Jeonghan’s hand heavy on your shoulder. “This is-”

“Come on, don’t be shy.” Jeonghan laughed. “Hi….friend? I’m the boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Minguk looked at you just as surprised as you looked at him. “I didn’t know…”

Neither did you.

“Yeah we’ve been doing long distance for a while now, I just got back recently.” Jeonghan answered like it was a matter of fact when a few days back, you didn't even know of his existence.

After that Minguk, who always said bye to you with a cheery wave, mumbled that he had to go and left, without sparing you a second glance.

“What an idiot.” Jeonghan chuckled as he let you go, walking into the house. “Men who don’t have the guts to be honest with the woman they like are not worth anyone’s time.”

“I’m sorry what?” You frowned, closing the door and following him. “The woman they like?”

Jeonghan looked at you incredulously. “You didn’t know? He was literally making heart eyes, his drool is probably outside on the floor-”

“He has a girlfriend.”

“So?” He shrugged.

“So he can’t possibly like me??”

Jeonghan looked at you amused. “You’re dense as hell princess, there’s so much I could teach you.” and with that he walked away leaving you baffled, which was not how you expected events to turn out yesterday.

As Seokmin went on and on about how Minguk wasn’t being fair to his girlfriend, you zoned out, mind wandering on something else entirely. You needed a new, revised plan, one that was guaranteed to get Jeonghan out of your life and this time, you swore you wouldn’t fail.

Day 4 of 10

Plan B failed just as miserably as plan A.

You had promised yourself to get Jeonghan out of your life, but all you managed to do was get him out of the house.

That was part of the plan though, him stepping out was vital but somehow, as though luck loved him and despised you, things worked out in his favour yet again.

Plan B was a long and elaborate one, one that you worked on really hard, starting from last night.

Last night, you got into your couch tired as hell, but determined not to sleep, eyes wide open in the darkness. Around 1am, you heard the sound of feet shuffling as Jeonghan’s silhouette walked past you, opening the door, letting yet another girl into your house. As the two of them moved towards your room, bodies and tongues tangled, shutting the bedroom door behind them, you immediately got up, rushing to your office room. Looking up the posters of Jeonghan on the internet, you quickly printed out a bunch of them, silently donned your jacket and a mask and left your house in the dead of the night. It took you nearly 3 hours but by the end of it you had put up those posters along all the streets of the suburb and had barely just returned and got under the covers when the bedroom door opened and Jeonghan’s companion of the night left your house. Confident that by daybreak, everyone in the neighborhood would know Jeonghan’s face and there would at least be someone smarter than Minguk who could look past the changed hair colour, you slept happily, after a long time.

But you were rudely awakened by the sound of Jeonghan’s voice, whispering right by your ear.

“Be honest. You don’t actually want me to leave do you?”

Your eyes flew open only to find his face hovering above yours, inches away. You held your breath as his hand rested on your waist, fingers tracing over the sliver of skin exposed by your shirt having ridden up.

“You’re scared of what I do to you.” He smirked, lips teasingly close to yours. “But I could do so many wonderful things to you princess.”

You gasped as you felt his fingers slip under the waistband of your underwear, inching closer and closer to the desperate hot and wet feeling between your legs. You couldn’t bring yourself to stop him…. You didn’t want to. As he slipped a finger in, groaning about how tight you were, your eyes flew open, meeting the cracks on the ceiling above.

Petrified, you sat up, forehead and neck drenched in sweat as though every nerve ending was on fire. Did you just have a wet dream about Yoon Jeonghan??

Oh he had to leave. He had to leave as soon as possible. This plan had to work.

And you really thought it would when you were going to buy lunch (today he wanted clam chowder which was way beyond your expertise) and he insisted on following you to get it since he was getting bored at home. You thought the entire universe had finally channelised its energy into helping you get rid of him.

You could not have been more wrong.

Turned out that in the few hours you had spent happily sleeping, it rained cats and dogs, obliterating nearly every single piece of paper you had put up. Hours of your hard work was quite literally washed down the drain while Jeonghan happily walked out in the open right alongside dozens of people who had no idea who he was. On the contrary, they had a wilder assumption regarding who he might be - apparently your boyfriend.

The moment you’d stepped into the restaurant, all the old women who were your grandmother’s friends and loved to strike conversation with you, absolutely ignored your existence as they caught hold of ‘your boyfriend’, insisting that the two of you eat with them. You sat across Jeonghan, watching him talking and giggling with all the old ladies as they threw all sorts of questions at him. He answered, stuffing his mouth with food, spinning the most wonderful stories of your relationship, stories that made you almost wish they were true.

After he bid them all goodbye, which was nearly two hours later, he declared he wanted to play football in the big ground where all the ladies had mentioned their visiting grandkids were playing. You took him there, sitting on the sidelines and watching this man twice their height, tackling all the little kids effortlessly, laughing - not sadistically, just happily, enjoying himself. At that moment somehow, he felt so ordinary, like any other normal person, like he could really have been your boyfriend, like this was really your life. You abandoned that thought the moment Jeonghan pulled you from the bench into the field, demanding that you play. Though you despised the idea of running around in half muddy fields, as always, you found yourself unable to say no to him, joining him and the kids in a game that was a lot more fun than you had anticipated. That was until it started pouring rain again, forcing all of you to run back to your homes, drenched from head to toe by the time you reached. The laughter in your chest fizzled out at the sight of Jeonghan shaking the wet droplets of his hair, his wet shirt sticking to his body, the outline of it unnecessarily obvious.

But I could do so many wonderful things to you princess.

Gulping, you left to dry yourself, heart racing behind its cage, not wanting to think of the dream. The rest of the evening you refused to so much as look at him, focusing on only on the one thing you were supposed to - Plan C.

Day 5 of 10

Plan C was short and simple and it was supposed to work like a charm.

To be honest, a part of you always had a feeling plan A and B wouldn’t work because BooSeokSoon were right - expecting anyone in this neighbourhood to know Jeonghan was stupid. So if nobody here recognised Jeonghan, you had to bring someone who recognised Jeonghan here. And that’s exactly what you did because just as you were washing the breakfast dishes and Jeonghan was asking for your help with something, there was a loud knock on the door.

“Police, open up.”

Finally.

After you had gotten up in the morning, under the pretext of getting milk, you went over to the closest public phone, calling the one and only police station nearby, the one over twenty five miles away. Trying to keep the message as anonymous and vague as possible, you spoke about how it seemed like something was not right in unit 84, your own apartment. With the fear of being identified, you didn't tell them anything else but clearly your half information was taken seriously because barely half an hour later, they were here at your door. Before you could wash your soapy hands and walk over the door, Jeonghan was already there, opening it.

You held your breath, staying hidden in the kitchen, peeking from behind the wall as the two men looked at each other. The expectation was a dramatic, movie-like scene where both men confronted each other with fists, maybe even guns but the reality, much to your surprise, was the complete opposite - they were both just talking, having a conversation you could barely hear from your hiding place. Could the cop also not recognise Jeonghan?

The answer was no, he could not. It was Jeonghan’s luck playing it’s hand once again because the moment the cop shook Jeonghan’s hand and left and the latter turned you, you noticed how the entire lower half of his face was lathered in layers of shaving foam rendering half his face completely hidden. You vaguely recalled he was asking you for help to shave, wondering what were the odds that the cop would turn up at this exact moment. Jeonghan’s luck was indeed your biggest enemy.

Inwardly crying about the fact that not only did he just dodge your biggest weapon, but you still had to continue doing menial work for him, you followed him to the bathroom. As you prepared the razor, he sat on the edge of the bathtub, peering at you curiously in the mirror.

“Why do you think the cop turned up at your house today?”

Trying not to let your hands shake, you shrugged. “How would I know?....What did he say?”

“Someone apparently called to complain about something strange going on in this house.”

You met his eye in the reflection, thinking fast. “I mean it is a quiet neighbourhood and the people around are really old so, I guess, maybe someone complained about, you know, all the noise at night….”

“But you don’t use the sewing machine at night?” Jeonghan frowned like he didn’t understand.

Clearing your throat, you turned to him. “Not me, it's you…and you know all the….” Making vague hand gestures you tried to explain your point. “....when the girls come and…”

“Sex?” Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, half laughing. “What are you, a prude? You can’t say the word sex?”

Shifting uneasily you looked away from him, mumbling. “I just don't think everything has to be said….”

Jeonghan didn't say anything to that, continuing to look at you just a little amused as you stood between his manspread, holding his jaw and tilting his head up. When his eyes met yours, a strange something flashing behind them, every cell in your body feeling hyper-alert. Gulping you slowly ran the blades along his cheek, your own cheeks heating up under his gaze, one that never left your face.

When you did a half turn to grab a towel, feet stumbling in the process, Jeonghan’s hands flew to grab your hips, stabilizing you. He didn't let go even after you had found your footing. He didn't let go even after you finished the task at hand.

“I'm done…” You mumbled, taking a step back and his grip on you finally loosened. Just for a second though, before he suddenly held your hand and stood up, face inches away from yours, eyes still on you the same way.

“What’s your deal princess?”

You gulped, looking away confused when he bent down, to your eye level, looking curious.

“You can't even bring yourself to say ‘sex’ but….” He ran his thumb across your lower lip, rubbing away a speck of foam that somehow seemed to have gotten there. “The way you look at me, there's something a lot darker behind those eyes. Which is the real you?”

You had no idea.

You really really had no idea.

Which is the real you?

Staring at the ceiling you pondered over Jeonghan’s question.

Was it the you who was thoroughly scandalized by the things Jeonghan kept saying and doing? Or the you who was lying on the couch wide awake at nearly 1am, trying to pretend like you weren’t listening to the same man absolutely ruin someone in your bed. You told yourself it wasn’t that you liked it, you were simply curious. As for why you had kept your legs pressed together, you had no answer, you most definitely were not turned on, no.

But strangely the discomfort between your legs only got worse, like a dull, desperate ache. Hesitating, you slipped your hand under the waistband of your underwear, fingers slowly inching downward, terrified of what you would discover. Your digits slid easily, given the fact that you were soaked, eyes shutting tight in embarrassment. This was so wrong and so inappropriate on so many levels….. quickly getting yourself together you rushed over to the bathroom, washing up, throwing cold water on your face to get you back into your senses. Getting it together and patting your face dry with your towel, you walked out, stepping into complete silence.

Frowning, you turned to the clock - usually, Jeonghan went on for hours together, giving you some peace of mind only around 3am in the morning - could they have been done already? Confused, you slowly moved towards the room door, pushing it softly, expecting to find Jeonghan fast asleep. Instead, you’re met with the sight of a woman on all fours, her head pressed into the mattress, muffling her sounds as Jeonghan railed her from behind, his hips snapping against hers at a ridiculous pace.

Now either you should have run away from there, or screamed and then run away from there but you did neither - instead you simply froze, eyes wide and unblinking, unable to move any part of your body. It became a whole lot worse when Jeonghan, whose face was contorted with focus, suddenly lifted his head, his vision finding you by the door. The only good thing that came from this was that somehow, you found your footing again, stumbling back, loudly shutting the door. Not knowing what else to do, you grabbed your jacket from the coat rack and quickly ran out of the house, ignoring the heavy pitter patter of the rain. Thank god the boys are still sitting at the restaurant, gathered around a table, laughing away. You walked in, ready to cry out of embarrassment and dissolve in your embarrassment.

“Okay, let’s calm down a little.” Seokmin reached for your glass, prying it out of your hands slowly, earning a glare from you.

“I need it. I need to drown in my sorrows.” You looked over your shoulder at the lady who was sitting at the table alone, hiccuping at her fourth bottle of beer. “Like her.”

“What’s the deal with that woman?” Seungkwan muttered looking over. “She’s been here for hours.”

“Something about her crush being kissed by his best friend.” Soonyoung shrugged. “Apparently the other girl dared her to watch.”

“Ouch.” You grimaced, thoroughly impressed. “God I wish I could be like that.”

“You are like that.” Seungkwan pointed at all the bottles of soju in front of you.

“Not her, the other one.” You clicked your tongue, not hearing the restaurant door opening behind you. “I wish I was daring like that. Gutsy enough to put people in their place, to say what’s on my mind, to tell Yoon Jeonghan to stop fucking other people in my bed-”

“Would you rather I fuck you?”

You turned quickly, a chill running down your spine as you found Jeonghan right behind, bent over to whisper into your ear. All three boys before you looked with their jaws hung. Turning away from him, unable to meet his eyes, you mumbled something even you didn’t understand.

Jeonghan smiled. “Doesn’t sound like a no.”

“I could barely recognise you.” Seokmin looked at the man before him in awe, glancing over his not so new hairdo. “Black hair looks good on you.”

“I know.” Jeonghan agreed like it was a matter of fact before turning to you again. “The rain just stopped but looks like it might start again anytime soon, you should come home.”

You shook your head slowly.

“I’m amazed you know how to refuse.” Jeonghan chuckled. “But now’s not the time to; come home.”

“No.” You stood up, facing him. “I don’t want to go to your home.”

“Not mine, yours.”

“Oh yeah.” You looked at him spacey as Jeonghan tried to stop himself from laughing. “That’s my house. My room. My bed. What the hell are you doing there?”

“A new woman everyday apparently.” Soonyoung muttered, purposely looking away from Jeonghan.

“What kind of person does that?” You poked his chest, slurring. “A-and the way you talk to them? Who says things like that?”

“Okay, we can discuss this at home. It’s 3am, get up-”

“It’s 3???” Seungkwan quickly turned at the clock on the wall. “Fuck, fuck, fuck we have to close up.”

The boys quickly got to their feet, one gathering the trash, the other stacking the dishes and the other ushering the only other person in the store to leave. She got up, walking towards the entrance, wantonly tripping on her own feet and holding onto Jeonghan. Something in you wanted to smack her right across the head.

“Hi,” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I’m Yuri.”

“Hi,” Jeonghan pulled his arm from her grip. “I’m not interested.” He turned to you, blatantly ignoring the other girl’s existence. “Let’s go.”

You watched as the poor woman, looking close to tears, stormed out as you swayed and muttered. “I can’t. I can barely stand, forget walking.”

“Get on my back.” Jeonghan offered, making you laugh.

“Have you seen yourself?” You threw your jacket over your shoulders. “If you carry me, you’ll break. Like literally snap in half.”

“Huh.” Jeonghan inched closer to you, tucking his hands in his pocket. “There’s so much to teach you princess. Lesson number one, size does not matter.”

Yet again, you found yourself burning under his gaze, words lost in your mouth which was opening and closing like a fish. Sighing, Jeonghan swooped down faster than you could register his movement, grabbing you by the knees, throwing you over his shoulder. Shrieking, you protested, trying to get him to put you down but he simply ignored you, walking away as your friends watched, thoroughly shocked.

Within minutes he had you in your house, putting you down in your bathroom, letting you sit on the edge of the bathtub as he grabbed your towel. Standing before you, he tilted your head up, softly rubbing the towel into your hair, drying it. You tried to avoid his eye, looking everywhere but him and that small amused smile on his face, only looking at him when he finally spoke.

“What’s your name?”

You scoffed. “You lived in my house for 5 days, ate my food, slept in my bed, and you don’t know my name?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary.”

“Why is it necessary now?”

He smiled. “If you want me to fuck you, I need to know your name princess.”

“God.” You pulled away from him. “I didn’t say I want you to… to…”

“There we go again.” He sighed. “The celestial prude returns.”

“I’m not a prude, don’t call me that.” You pointed an accusatory finger at him. “I’ll have you know I have….” You cleared your throat, the volume of your voice considerably lowering. “I have slept with a man before. More than once. In fact, I have also slept with two men at the same time.”

Jeonghan raised his eyebrow like he didn’t believe it.

“Okay fine, one of them was just watching…...” You rolled your eyes. “But there were two, my boyfriend - ex-boyfriend - and his friend-”

“Did you agree to that?”

Somehow Jeonghan’s voice was a lot harder now, catching you off guard.

“Huh?”

“I asked you if you agreed for your boyfriend’s friend to watch?”

“I….” You stuttered, looking around. “I didn’t say no.”

“Princess, you never say no.” Jeonghan crouched before you, looking serious. “But that doesn’t mean it's a yes.”

You stared at him unsure what to say. That was a night you never thought about again - you always thought it was maybe because you were embarrassed but perhaps…..a part of you was trying to forget it ever happened.

“You asked me who says the kind of things I do in bed, right? I say them because the women I’m with want me to, they enjoy it. But what you just told me,” Jeonghan shook his head. “Did you want that?”

“I…I don’t know.” You confess. You didn’t ever question yourself like Jeonghan was. “He didn’t ask and I didn’t think I could say no-”

“You can always say no.” Jeonghan insisted, holding your hands. “If you don’t want something, you should say no. The same way, if you want something, you should ask for it, unashamed.”

“Then I… I want you..…” You whispered, unsure whether you should say it, not noticing the way Jeonghan's eyes darkened instantly. Taking a deep breath, you continued. “I want you…. to stop sleeping in my bed. I want you to stop wearing the clothes I design. I want you to stop making me cook for you-”

“Okay wow we’re spiraling-”

“I want you to stop making me clean after you, to stop treating me like your personal assistant, I mean what kind of man doesn’t know how to shave-”

“The kind who’s always had people to do these things for him so he doesn’t really know how to do anything.” He muttered, sighing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of it too much, I should’ve been more mindful of how I was being…. but now that you told me-” He got up. “-I won’t bother you, and on the off chance that I do, and you wish for me to leave, I will do so immediately, I promise.”

You nodded slowly, both amazed that you managed to get all of that off your chest and that he took it all really well. He continued to look at you like you were both fascinating and funny.

“What?”

“You still haven’t told me your name by the way.”

Half laughing you did and he repeated it, your name rolling off his tongue in a way that made something in your stomach flip.

“I’m going to grab whatever clothes of yours I can find.” He walked up to the door, turning to you. “Please change, you’ll fall sick if you sleep in wet clothes.”

With that he left, and that was the last thing you remembered.

Day 6 of 10

Today you woke up in the bathtub.

The twisted form that you slept in obviously resulted in stiff joints and pains all over but it was falling asleep in drenched clothes that caused the continuous sneezing that followed. Dragging yourself out of the bathroom, you slowly walked into your house, meeting a strange silence - Jeonghan wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Feeling too weak to even wonder where he was, you dragged yourself to the couch, sinking into it, eyes fluttering shut. No more than five minutes later, you were awakened by the feeling of a cold hand on your forehead, making you jump at the suddenness. Jeonghan peered at you shaking his head.

“Great, you’ve got a fever.” He clicked his tongue. “I was gone for two minutes last night and you fell asleep in the tub.”

“Should’ve woken me up.”

“Believe me, I tried but you wouldn’t even budge and it wasn’t like I could just carry you out of there.” He turned away muttering as you raised your eyebrows in faux surprise. “Okay, just carrying you once almost broke my back, so yeah, I admit it, I’m weak.”

You burst out laughing, doubling over into a coughing fit as Jeonghan handed you a bottle of water, smiling almost fondly.

“What do you want to eat for lunch?”

“You’re going to make lunch?”

“Don’t get used to it, only cause you’re sick.”

You pondered, leaning back into the pillows. “Something hot and with soup would be great actually.”

“Can you shower and change out of those clothes in the meantime?”

You whined, shaking your head, body drained of all its energy.

“Come on.” Jeonghan pulled you up from the couch, struggling as he did. “Wash up.”

Stumbling to the bathroom, you did, albeit much slower than usual but a hot shower made all the difference in the world. You didn’t want to leave the warmth and maybe you wouldn’t have if the landline wasn’t constantly ringing. Groaning you wrapped a towel around you, dragging yourself to the phone, picking it up.

“Where the hell is your phone?” Seungkwan scolded you from the other side. “Why won’t you pick up?”

“On silent somewhere I guess.” You mumbled, looking around. “What’s wrong?”

“Just wanted to check if you were okay-”

“I’m okay.”

“-and also wanted to tell you that your dream shop? It’s up for lease.”

You immediately straightened out, tiredness suddenly vanishing. “You mean the one down two streets? The one I've been waiting to get my hands on for months?”

“Yes and yes and the price they’ve quoted is actually manageable.” Seungkwan sounded excited. “If us boys add a few thousand each to your 25K, I think you can actually afford it.”

Your face softened. “You… you guys would do that for me?”

“Of course, you’re our best friend Y/n, that’s the least we can do.” Twisting the cord of your phone, you glanced at it fondly. “Besides, you're the one who Jeonghan is living with, it's only fair….”

As though on cue, Jeonghan walked in, hands filled with bags, shooting you a surprised look. You looked back at him, both happy and conflicted. While you had been trying to get rid of Jeonghan behind your friend’s backs, they were so willing to go above and beyond for you. And the Jeonghan you so desperately were trying to paint as the big pain in your life, was here, offering to cook and look after you - did that mean you were the terrible one here?

As Seungkwan hung up citing he had to go, Jeonghan walked up to you, looking worried.

“All good?”

“Yeah I just…. My dream might come true and I don’t know how to react.”

"Dream come true?"He leaned closer, whispering into your ear. “I don't recall actually agreeing to fuck you…”

He looked at your towel clad body up and down, making you gulp and quickly walk away, gripping the material tight, him laughing behind you.

When you returned in a fresh pair of pajamas to a Jeonghan who was busy bustling away in the kitchen, singing a song softly, he asked what dream you were talking about.

“There's this space I've wanted to own for a long time now.” You sat down at the breakfast bar, head perched on interlocked hands. “It's up for lease and I might have the money to finally own it.”

“Congratulations princess.” Jeonghan looked up from his busy stirring, shooting you a smile. “That sounds great.”

You nodded, continuing to feel all too happy. “I still can't believe it, I think I might pass out.”

“Yes you might after eating this too.” He looked at you frazzled, “I might have added too much spice.”

“Is it that bad….”

You trailed away when he held out a blob of the marinade on his finger, hand extended towards you. Hesitating, you leaned closer, taking his finger in your mouth, lips wrapping around his digit and pulled off with a pop. Your eyes didn't leave him the whole time, neither did his.

Clearing your throat, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“It's fine actually, I can take it.”

Jeonghan didn’t reply to that, simply turning back to his work silently. In the remaining 2 hours he spent cooking and flipping through the cookbook pages, he didn’t talk or so much as look at you. Even when the two of you were eating and you complimented his food, he just gave a short nod. It was only when everything was done and he cleared the table that he finally spoke, telling you to rest for a bit. You told him you were behind a lot of projects and orders and had to work, and that’s when he turned to you exasperated,

“You’re sick, you can take a day off.”

“There's nothing else to do anyway.” You mumbled. “And I don’t want to sleep again, I just woke up.”

Jeonghan hummed, putting away the dishes before turning to you. “Wanna build something?”

You watched confused as he unpacked the remaining bags he brought home earlier, pulling out boxes of Legos.

“I wanna make a nice little space for Doljjong.”

“Who?” You looked around, almost terrified. “Please don’t tell me you brought home a cat-”

He pulled out a rock from his pocket, looking all too pleased. “Doljjong, my new pet.”

“That’s a rock.”

“And?” He looked at it, stroking the soft surface. “I found it while playing football yesterday. Even the kids agreed it was perfect.”

You burst out laughing at his silliness as he continued to insist how it was the perfect pet and how he had found the perfect Lego sets to build it the perfect small home.

That’s how most of the remaining day went - the two of you building Doljjong’s new residence. Actually, it was mostly Jeonghan at work, insisting that you were sick and slow and should just watch him. So that’s what you did, leaning against the couch, sipping on the hot tea he made you, munching on the snacks he bought, watching him giggle away, making his creation.

As the sun began to set outside, you looked at him in the soft golden light, at how simple and ordinary he looked. Maybe you could bear him for another 4 days, maybe you didn’t have to feel so terrified around him. Or perhaps you should feel more scared now that you were comfortable around him….

Even as you sat next to him snuggling on your couch with afternoon’s leftovers warmed up for dinner, you could only think about how you kinda wished he was here for longer, which was kind of insane - just a day ago you were desperate to have him out of here but now? Now you had to admit to yourself that the only reason left on the long list of ‘Why Jeonghan Must Go’ was the way he made you feel, even when he was just sitting across you, eating and watching tv. God this was embarrassing….

When you finally put your thoughts behind you, getting ready to sleep in your usual place, Jeonghan offered that you take the bed but you refused, mumbling something about not washing the sheets. Laughing, Jeonghan sat back on his end of the couch, settling with a jacket wrapped around him.

“You're gonna be here all night?” You looked at him surprised.

“Yeah.” He shut his eyes, leaning back. “Just in case you need anything.”

“Why?” You glanced at him. “I mean everything today, why did you….”

“I know what it's like to not have anyone care when you're sick.” Sighing, he turned to look at you. “I've always had people at my beck and call but they always worked for me like it was their job, because I was their boss. It never really felt like any of them cared and sometimes, that hurt. But I've come to terms with that, that's just what it's like in this job.”

“Why….” You hesitated but decided to take a shot anyway. “Why did you choose this profession then? I mean, what compelled you…”

“Compelled?” Jeonghan chuckled, looking away and shutting his eyes again. “If you're looking for a good-boy-forced-by-circumstances-to-go-bad kinda story I'm afraid I'm not the one for it, princess.”

“If it wasn't a compulsion, was it your choice….”

“I've never really been afraid to ask and get what I want.” He smiled. “Somewhere in that process this is who I became.”

“Is it that easy to just…. go for what you want?”

“It usually is when you don't care about the consequences that may follow so yeah, it has been easy for me.” He paused, like he was mulling over something. “So far.”

Before you could ask him what he meant by that, he leaned over, tucking you properly under the sheets.

“Enough questions for today. You need rest.” He snuggled further on his end, a small smile dancing on his lips. “Goodnight Y/n.”

“Goodnight…..Jeonghan.”

Day 7 of 10

Of all the ways you had imagined, one would think you'd wake up to Jeonghan, this was not one of them.

He was still fast asleep seated on his end of the couch, head leaned back, mouth slightly askew, his breathing soft and deep. Only noticeable thing was his hand on your thigh like a comforting weight - you vaguely remembered him gently patting you as you broke into a coughing fit in the middle of the night. Dragging yourself to sit up, you continued to stare at him, taking in all the beautiful features - he looked just like he did the day you first saw him. Maybe you would've given in to the temptation and run your finger across the delicate angles of his face if the landline didn't ring so loudly, both pulling you back and waking him up.

Muttering an apology you quickly picked up the call, only to be met by the even louder voice of your mother.

“You're sick!?”

“Hi mom, yeah, I was sick.” You mumbled frowning. “….how did you know?”

“Why didn't you tell me? I would've come, brought you some sides, made you something to eat-”

“Please stop screaming.” You groaned. “I can hear you just fine.”

“Don't tell me what to do young woman. How can I not scream when I find out my sick daughter is being taken care of by a boyfriend whose existence I'm not even aware of.”

You immediately sat up. “W-what?”

“Yeah, imagine my surprise when Minguk's grandmother told me you weren't well but I wasn't to worry because your ‘very caring boyfriend’ is looking after you well.”

You looked at Jeonghan who seemed to be able to hear everything given the volume your mother was talking in.

“Mom I can explain-”

“Save it. I'm coming home.”

“Mom-”

And with that she cut the call, sending your heartbeat racing.

“Fuck fuck fuck-”

“Calm down princess.”

“You calm down!” You snapped back stupidly, running your hands through your hair. “I'm sorry, it's just, my mom is…. a hawk. She's going to figure things out-”

“You think she’ll call the cops on me?”

“No, no that. She hates watching the news, I'm sure she has no idea who you are but she’s definitely going to know we-” you pointed between the two of you. “-aren't a thing.”

“Hey I made your supermart boy believe it.” Jeonghan shrugged, leaning back. “And every old woman in a 2km radius.”

“Yeah well my mother isn't one of those women. She's hella observant and nosy and most importantly, she knows me. She knows I wouldn't be with someone like you.”

“Wow,” Jeonghan let out a low whistle. “This is starting to become offensive, princess.”

“No…” You turned to him. “No no no. What I mean is, you're not exactly the gentle, sweet boyfriend kind right? I mean… you know what I mean right?”

Jeonghan smiled at you like he was enjoying this. “No, I don't.”

“You do.” You muttered, knowing well that he was pushing you into a spot. “The way you’re with women, it isn’t how boyfriends are really, or at least how my mum would expect my boyfriend to be.”

“It’s not like I’m going to talk dirty to you in front of her.”

Feeling the heat in your cheeks rise, you looked away. “No I mean… you just seem so much more….bad boy kinds and I’ve never been the kind to date someone like you, someone who’s not-”

“A prince wearing a shining armor on a white horse who comes to save the day?”

Yes exactly that, as evident by the many drawings in your childhood journal but Jeonghan did not need to know that.

“-someone who’s not very gentlemanly?”

“So what do you want me to do? Bow to your mother, kiss her hand, ask for your hand in marriage-”

“I said gentle, not archaic.” You rolled your eyes.

“Do you really want that though?” He turned to you, head cocked in question. “A man who is gentle?”

You tried to avoid his gaze knowing he would read your answer to that like an open book.

“Of course. I'm….I'm a suburban girl with a boring, uneventful life. I…obviously want someone who's soft and sweet and-”

“Show me.”

You turned to him so fast and so wide eyed, you were sure a vessel had burst somewhere.

“Show me how you want to be loved.”

Stuttering and at an absolute loss of words, you continued staring at him stupidly. Chuckling softly, like always, Jeonghan leaned close.

“If we need to convince your mother, then you're going to have to teach me what you like, princess.”

Gulping you blinked at him, eyes flickering to his lips. He watched you with raised eyebrows as you hesitatingly mirrored his lean, closing the space between the two of you and gently pressed your mouth onto his.

Uncharacteristically, Jeonghan froze.

His sudden stiffness instantly brought you back to your senses, making you pull away, ready to apologise and banish yourself into your room forever but before a word could leave your mouth, Jeonghan quickly captured it again, sighing into the kiss, lips moving unnaturally soft.

“Well,” He muttered as he drew back and your eyes met his. “When I said show me, I meant show me what you wanted me to do to convince your mother about us? I didn’t think this was a part of that-”

“Good god.” You groaned, burying your face in your hands and yourself in the couch. What the hell did you just do?

“Hey.” Chuckling, Jeonghan pulled your hands away, looking at you keenly. “Be honest with me though, is this really how you like it?”

For some reason, the question seemed rhetorical, like he knew the answer already. Not entirely honest, you nodded slowly.

“Huh.” He leaned closer, like he was challenging your answer. “Do you want to know how I like it?”

“Yes.”

You’re not really sure how or why that word left your mouth so quickly but clearly, Jeonghan didn’t care. Before you knew it, he ran his hand up your thigh, pulling you onto his lap with an ease you did not expect from him.

“Are you sure?” He whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear with one hand, gripping your waist with the other. “You don’t-”

“Please.” You whispered back and that was all it took for him to hold your face and pull you down onto his mouth, lips ravenous against yours. As your hands fisted the material of his shirt, his slipped in your hair, gripping it in a way that surprisingly didn’t hurt. Rather it felt good, like you wanted him to guide you the way he wanted, the way he liked, in any way he needed you to submit to him. As his hand ran down your back, his tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting like a mistake, a scandal and a terrible decision all at once but somehow you couldn’t stop. Even when he pulled back to breathe, you descended upon him immediately, oxygen be damned because for the first time in forever, something in you was truly alive. Smirking against your lips Jeonghan grabbed your ass, rocking you against him, the outline of his hard length evident under you. You moaned very audibly when he broke away, placing a line of kisses down your neck while your hands, out of their own will, began unbuttoning your shirt.

“Fuck princess, I knew you had a wild side.” He muttered against your skin, tongue running along the bruise he had made.

You had no idea. You had no idea an animal as hungry as this was inside you - the dull feeling that you had been getting between your legs all these days was turning into a terribly unbearable ache. You could not ignore it anymore.

“I need you-” You gasped, not expecting his mouth on the swell of your breasts. “I need your help, please Jeong-”

And perhaps he would’ve helped if not for the sound of the lock turning.

Your mother stood outside, balancing the bags in her hand, struggling to open the door with her spare set of keys. When she had managed to unlock the door and swing it open, she was met with the sight of her child and her apparent boyfriend sitting side by side expectantly. She however did not notice the mismatched buttoning of your shirt, or Jeonghan’s red, flushed expression or your hand awkwardly covering something on your neck.

“Mom, you’re here, what a surprise.” Smiling wide and fake, you walked up to the woman setting her bags down on the kitchen counter, frowning at you.

“I let you know I was coming like half an hour ago.”

“Right.” You mumbled as Jeonghan joined, standing beside you. Getting a hold of yourself, you moved to stand next to your mother putting some much needed distance between you and the man you were practically dying to jump. “This is uh, Jeonghan. He’s… he’s actually…”

“The boyfriend.” Jeonghan and your mother answered at the same time, taking each other aback.

“Well, well.” Your mother looked at him up and down in scrutiny before breaking into a smile. “Something tells me you and I are going to get along great, Jeonghan. I want to hear all about how the two of you met.”

If there is anything you’ve learnt about Jeonghan today, it was that he was an excellent storyteller. Honestly, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he was one of those people who wrote fanfictions on the internet as a hobby because wow did he have the talent for it.

As you were putting away all the things your mother bought you and he told her the apparent story of how the two of you met, you too listened in awe, stopping your work and staring at him, amazed. Your mother kept laughing, asking why you were behaving like you were listening to this story for the first time when you actually lived it. Laughing weakly you continued to listen, trying to look less awestruck.

You’re not quite sure how Jeonghan learned the idea of romance within minutes because strangely, the story he made up was nothing short of a fairytale, one that had absolutely convinced your mother.

“Oh Hannie.” She cooed, rubbing his arm. “I’m so glad my baby found you. There could not have been anyone more perfect.”

As she looked at you fondly over her shoulder, Jeonghan shot you a triumphant smirk. You returned their looks with a hard smile of your own.

The rest of the day went pretty the same way - Your mother busied herself with making you some soup and dishes for lunch while Jeonghan stood nearby, entertaining her with his words and stories. Neither of them seemed to notice how you were doing. For one, you were feeling extremely hot - it was a cool day yet you were sweating like crazy, your cheeks were hot, and just the fabric of your clothes touching your skin felt weirdly uncomfortable. You were also strangely jumpy - every time Jeonghan so much as passed by you or his hand accidentally brushed any part of your skin, you would react like you were touched by a few hundred volts of electricity. The worst thing of them all was having to sit next to him during lunch - sure it was easier when you didn’t have to look at him eye to eye but the soft kisses on your cheek and forehead??? The wiping of food on the edge of your mouth??? The constant brushing of your hair away from your face?? It was all getting a little too unbearable.

And it didn’t help that you were already incredibly wet from your little escapade earlier, your panties sticking to you uncomfortable throughout all of this, only getting wetter if that were even possible.

Jeonghan seemed to have finally noticed your situation way too late in the day.

After lunch your mom took over the entertainment, showing Jeonghan pictures of you as a kid, telling him all your embarrassing stories. Soon, the sun set outside and usually, your mother, who liked to leave before it was too dark, insisted she wanted to have dinner with her daughter’s boyfriend. That was how the three of you found yourself in your usual bbq place with Seokmin, Seungkwan and Soonyoung, all looking at you, wide eyed.

Perhaps it was the many hours that she spent with Jeonghan today or watching him interact with your three best friends so casually or looking at him play with the cats in the neighborhood, by the time your tipsy mother made it back to your apartment, she could not stop gushing about how Jeonghan was the best thing that ever happened to you. The praises only stopped when she finally resorted to the bathroom for a long, hot shower, leaving you standing and looking out of the balcony, finally alone, finally at peace.

That didn’t last for long as Jeonghan stood beside you, trying to figure out what you were so intently staring at.

“Gotta give it to you.” You scoffed. “I was worried my mom would doubt us but you’re a natural.”

“It helped that it was you.”

Confused, you turned to him.

“I mean, the little demonstration of what you pretend to like and what you really like kinda helped.” He smirked.

Knowing he was trying to put you on the spot again, you looked away, “You think you know everything….”

“I do. You think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been incredibly turned on since our little make out session?” You froze, unable to take your eyes off the empty street. “I could smell the arousal on you all day princess and quite frankly, it’s been driving me crazy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mumbled, trying to leave only to be pulled back as Jeonghan trapped you between him and the railing before you.

His fingers ran down your arm slowly, “Are you telling me if I were to slip my hand between your legs, I won’t find you soaking wet?”

“Jeonghan please.” You whispered. “Y-you can’t say such things-”

“You could admit it….or I could check for myself.”

It was like the words were stuck in your throat, the shame not letting you say anything. To begin with it was already embarrassing enough to come to terms with the fact that you were immensely attracted to this man, you have been since you laid eyes on him, but to admit that he had you desperate for him all day and wanted him in any and all ways possible? That was entirely a whole other level of mortification.

Jeonghan let out a breath, muttering in your ear. “I can’t help you if you won’t ask me to.”

You gulped. “So begging really gets you off huh?”

“Yes, but you don’t need to.” He smiled, his fingers running across the elastic of your bottoms. “You just need to say the word. Say you want this. Say you want me.”

When you didn’t respond to him despite a whole minute passing by, he let out a deep breath, stepping back with an understanding nod. Given how just that minimal distance between the two of you made your stomach drop, you finally cracked, holding him by the hand, pulling him back to press against your back. Holding your breath you dragged his hand, guiding it once again along the elastic of your pants.

You couldn’t see but Jeonghan looked at you concerned. “Here?”

“If you don’t touch me right now I might just cry.” You muttered, thankful you couldn’t see what you assumed would be a triumphant expression, pushing his hand further down, past the hem of your underwear. “Please Jeonghan.”

Two very long and frustrating heartbeats later, he finally angled his hand, moving further down.

“Fuck.” He groaned as his digits met the slick between your folds. “Were you this soaked all day?”

You nodded, whispering. “Been aching…...”

“Trust me, not more than I have.” He moved closer to you, pressing against your back, his erection confirming his words. The thought of potentially feeling that inside you made your mouth practically water, as you pressed your legs closer, squeezing his hand in between them.

Jeonghan’s finger grazed over your clit, making you keen and hold onto the railing for dear life.

“Please.” That was all you could say with the way his fingers were teasing your entrance. “Please, please, please-”

Jeonghan covered your mouth with his free hand, pulling you back against his chest, whispering gruffly. “Save the begging for next time y/n.”

Next time?

You gulped, body taut with anticipation, mind still reeling over his words as Jeonghan finally pushed in not one but two fingers at the same time, his thumb grazing over your clit simultaneously, your hand reflexively gripping his wrist. Maybe because you’ve been silently thirsting over this man for almost a week now, or because you have been inexplicably horny all day, or because you just realised that the two of you were quite literally doing this out in the open where anyone could catch you in the act but the moment Jeonghan’s fingers pushed all the way in and he pressed on your clit, your walls clamped around his digits, back arching against him, your moan held back by his hand against your mouth. As your orgasm washed over you in waves, you panted against him, trying to catch your breath, the stars in the night sky suddenly swarming in front of your eyes.

“Did…” For the first time ever, Jeonghan stuttered, like he was confused. “Did you just cum?”

Your arousal dripped down his fingers, giving him his answer.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He groaned. “or felt, rather.”

As the pleasurable feeling began to ebb and the embarrassment took over, you tried to pry yourself away from his grip only for him to hold you more firmly, further pushing his fingers in. Overstimulated, your protests came out muffled against his hand, as you unwittingly clamped around him again.

“Don’t.” He warned, head dipping to the crook of your neck, sighing. “God, you’d feel like heaven around me.” You smiled slightly at his words, just a little proud, making him chuckle. “You like the thought of that, don’t you?”

Given your new found bravado, you slowly nodded and Jeonghan pulled himself back with resolve. “It’s not very gentlemanly to fuck a woman after making her come just once.” Finally taking his hand off your mouth and sadly also pulling his fingers out you, he turned you around swiftly, pushing you up against the wall behind him. “Give me another one.” He muttered against your ear.

Although the post orgasm haze and more importantly, the post horny haze was receding and you were suddenly hyper aware that you were out in the open, Jeonghan’s deep voice, as he peppered kisses along your shoulder, “Come on, be good for me.”, made your decision.

Oh you could be so good for him.

Threading your fingers in his hair, you pressed yourself up against him, nodding almost too eagerly. Smiling against your skin, Jeonghan slipped his hand between your bodies, sliding his fingers past all the layers of cloth keeping you away from him. You sighed like you were drowning in ecstasy as his fingers found your hole again, wasting no time to push his fingers in, curling almost instantly. When you gasped at the feeling of him grazing that spot, Jeonghan covered your mouth with his free hand once again, pressing you against the wall.

“Not here.” He warned but his actions seemed to be trying to do the exact opposite, fingers pumping in and out of you fast, your eyes almost rolling back in pleasure. “After this we are going inside and you’re gonna choose where you want to get railed and there, you can scream all you want.”

You whined, both at the idea of him taking you on nearly every surface of your house and feeling everything inside you tighten once again. Jeonghan’s thumb began circling on your clit once again, making you squirm, knees almost buckling as you gripped his arm hard to steady yourself.

You could hear the sound of a plane flying high above, the beeping of a reversing car from somewhere below, the chatter from your neighbour’s television - somehow all of it exhilarated you. The thought of getting caught with Jeonghan knuckles deep inside you was weirdly, insanely hot…. until you heard the next sound - the bathroom door opening.

Quickly pulling Jeonghan’s hand from your mouth and pushing him back much to his surprise, you harshly whispered. “My mom!”

Jeonghan immediately pulled his hand away, giving you just enough time to adjust your pants and smoothen the crinkles on your clothes before your mother walked into the balcony looking for the two of you.

Yet again, you were both smiling at her, abnormally and unnaturally wide. She frowned but overlooked it, announcing her decision instead. “I’ll need an extra pillow for my back, I’m staying the night.”

Jeonghan and you exchanged looks at the unexpected news as the older woman narrowed her eyes at the two of you. “Is there a problem?”

“No….” You tore your eyes away from Jeonghan. “I was just trying to remember where the extra bedding is….”

“It’s at the bottom of your closet.” He muttered. “I’ll grab it.”

Jeonghan walked out of there quickly, not meeting your mother’s eyes as she leaned against the railing, looking out, saying something about how it was going to rain like crazy tonight.

You watched him disappear into the house and were about to turn your attention to your mother when he took a step back, catching your eye. As you raised your eyebrows in question, Jeonghan slipped two of his fingers into his mouth, yeah the two that were inside you moments ago, pulling them out with a pop. Laughing at your mortified expression, he walked away, leaving you with your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Tonight was far from over.

Day 8 of 10

Much to your disappointment, nothing else happened last night.

Excusing yourself from your mother, the first thing you did was to shower, hoping you’d feel somewhat less filthy after your escapade in the balcony. Surprisingly, more than feeling scandalized about the madness you had indulged in, you found yourself disappointed that you didn’t get the chance to cum on Jeonghan’s fingers again. Part of you wanted to finish off in the shower by yourself but you knew after Jeonghan, there was no way you could feel the same kind of high in your own - it was him or nothing.

By the time you had stepped out, Jeonghan had pillows and blankets piled up next to him on the couch and from the room, your mother called out to you. Shooting him a disappointed look which he returned, you retired to your room, sleeping next to her on your bed after a whole damn week.

That was perhaps why you woke up when it was way past 11 in the morning, body well rested after so long. When you stretched, walking out of your room, you could hear Jeonghan and your mother talking over the sound of what you guessed was them making breakfast.

“....that experience isolated my poor child.” You frowned hearing your mother’s voice. “After that she quit fashion school, moved away from everything she considered her world till that point-”

“Mom!” Walking over quickly, you interrupted the conversation. “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast.” She shrugged as Jeonghan walked up to you, placing a soft kiss on your temple, rubbing your arm like he sensed you were angry. “And telling Han about that shithead Bohyun-”

“Mom.” You spoke between gritted teeth. “There’s no need to talk about him early in the morning-”

“It’s half past 11-”

“Mom!” Looking at her exasperatedly, you crossed your arms. “Don’t you have to give grandma her medicines, what are you still doing here?”

“Would you look at that Han?” She looked at Jeonghan, shaking her head. “She’s throwing her own mother out of the house.”

“What? I’m not-”

“The disrespect I tell you.” She continued, ignoring you. “When all I wish is the best for her. I told her. I told her back then not to date that boy. If she had listened to me things wouldn’t have been like this-”

“Okay, that’s it, I’m done here.” Giving up, you turned away, heading to your studio and locked yourself in. You would now do what you always did every time your dreaded ex came across your mind - throw yourself into your work and forget the rest of the world.

In a way, you had to thank your mother for reminding you about that man and consequently pushing you towards your work cause god were you way behind schedule. You knew you were falling behind but you didn’t know it was this bad until you noticed all your deadlines menacingly staring at you from your calendar. Without wasting time, you got back into the mechanical pursuit of your job, the way you usually did when you had a surmount of orders. You only ever stepped out twice, once for lunch and once for dinner, settling for the food your mother had made for you, scarfing it down within minutes before returning to your designs.

It was only when your shoulders began to miserably ache way past your bedtime that you dragged yourself to the living and found Jeonghan sitting in front of the tv. Surprisingly, you had forgotten all about him in the last many hours, a strange guilt rising in your chest as you sat beside him. Jeonghan did not turn to you as you approached.

“Are you…” You laughed at the screen. “Are you watching Princess and the Frog?”

He nodded.

“As a child, I never understood this movie.” You leaned back into the couch. “I always thought the prince was supposed to save the princess. Instead he turned out to be a playboy and dragged her through his miserable fate too.”

Jeonghan hummed in response.

“I can’t remember the last time I watched this.” You fiddled with your hands, trying to make conversation. “Seungkwan hates this movie so he never lets us watch during movie nights too.”

Jeonghan simply hummed again.

Sighing, you turned to him. “Are you….angry or something?”

“I’m not angry, just thinking.”

“About what?”

“The things your mother told me about you and your past.” Jeonghan let out a deep breath, contemplating for a bit before finally talking. “I don’t understand when people forget themselves in a relationship. It makes no sense to lose yourself in love.”

“That’s because you’ve never been in love.” You watched the screen as the two animated frogs ran through the forest. “That’s just how it is.”

“If that’s love then I don’t ever want to be in it.”

“Yeah well that’s the part that sucks.” You scoffed. “You don’t really get to choose. Love just happens.”

Jeonghan finally turned to you. “You read too many fairy tales, princess.”

Smiling at the familiar nickname, you leaned back into the couch. “I did, as a child. I grew up in a world of fairy tales. That’s where I met Bohyun, my ex.”

Now Jeonghan had all his attention on you.

“We were re-enacting Sleeping Beauty for a school play - I was Aurora and he was Prince Philip. He was my first kiss, my first love, my first of many things to be honest. We lived in the same neighbourhood, went to the same schools, had the same friends… I even enrolled into fashion school because he wanted to study fashion and I wanted to be with him.” You sighed looking at Jeonghan’s expression. “Yeah I can tell you don’t like that. Honestly, that wasn’t the worst decision I made. I actually really grew to love fashion designing, I can’t imagine myself doing anything else. It’s all the stuff after that I failed to see. Rather, I did see it all but…. I guess I was too much of a coward to do anything about it.”

Jeonghan waited quietly for you to continue.

“It started with him disappearing for long hours, then it became days together. On some days he would give explanations and on some days he would in turn scold me for not trusting him? All this went on till the last semester of fashion school when as my mother would have told you, I….found him cheating on me.”

Jeonghan looked like he expected that outcome.

“The crazier thing was, I actually begged him to leave her and come back to me. It took a while but he eventually did and I thought everything was back to normal again but something had changed. I refused to see it but he became strangely controlling. He would want to have a say in who my friends were, he didn’t like me hanging out with people he didn't get along with, he became more demanding about….” You gulped, voice dropping a little. “...sex. It was like he knew how much I needed him, like….”

“He knew you didn’t know how to say no.” Jeonghan completed for you, and you nodded.

“But then he cheated again, and came back again and then cheated yet again and I took him back again and it just kept going on and on until…. one day he asked me for a lot of money, to help kick start his new business.” You sighed. “Do you remember that dream space I told you about? It was originally my grandmother’s old kimbap shop, one that she gifted me, so I could open my own boutique there one day. I uh sold it, to get him the money he wanted and….he used it to buy his other girlfriend a house.”

Jeonghan’s jaw tightened like he was mad.

“After that blow, I quit school and moved away from that neighbourhood to this place, my grandmother’s apartment. Everyone thought I was done with him and was trying to move on but…. I was honestly running away. Because I knew if he came back….”

“You still wouldn’t be able to say no.”

You nodded. “I am pathetic, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, a little.” Jeonghan scoffed. “I don’t understand love, and I’ve never been in it, but one would have to be a fool to not be in love with you.”

You looked at Jeonghan, slightly taken aback.

“The world is harsh and cold and selfish Y/n. No one thinks about anything beyond themselves. And there’s you, putting the person you love above everything. It’s both pathetic and noble.” Jeonghan turned off the movie as the credits began rolling. “But you cannot put your self respect on the line for assholes like him, you deserve much better than that.”

“I know.” You sighed. “I wish I knew how to.”

“By speaking your mind.” Jeonghan stated like it was obvious. “By refusing the things you don’t want. By asking for the things you do want. By talking about how you feel…. Not just when you’re drunk but also in all your senses.”

Recalling that drunk night in the bathroom you laughed softly. He wasn’t wrong. Things between the two of you had changed drastically since that conversation. A strange gratitude swelled in your heart towards Jeonghan and how though he had been with you for barely a week, he had understood you better than anyone had. Turning him to you, you placed a soft kiss on his mouth, muttering a heartfelt “Thank you.”

Jeonghan, though, rolled his eyes. “Y/n, I’m not even kidding, my grandmother kisses me like this.”

You laughed as he reached for you, attempting to pull you into his lap yet again but you beat him to it, clambering in yourself, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Jeonghan smiled at the sight of you above him. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Is there something you want?”

“Yes.” You whispered, taking his face in your hands and kissing him again, this time, slipping your tongue in his mouth. Jeonghan’s lips curled into a smile as he pressed back, breaking free only to softly bite on your lower lip. Sighing dreamily, you rocked your hips against his, guided by his hands. You softly mumbled, holding back a moan. “We didn’t get to finish…. whatever we were doing last night.”

“And what was that?”

“.....you know what.”

“Use your words princess,” His voice went low and gruff, sending a tingle across your groin. “You were far from shy with my fingers inside you.”

“Don’t….”

Jeonghan’s hands sneaked under your shirt, more than pleased to not find the hooks of a bra. “Bedroom.”

You shook your head slowly, muttering. “Too far.”

Chuckling Jeonghan leaned back. “You want me to take you right here?”

“You said I could choose next time….”

“I also asked you to beg next time.” He whispered, tongue running over his lower lip, hands dragging you hips along his length. “So tell me you want me to fuck you with my fingers again.”

“Please.” You gasped. “Just fuck me… with anything.”

“Anything…” He repeated amused, before pulling your shirt over your head. No sooner did the material leave you, his mouth descended on your boob, pulling you in, towards him. Threading your fingers in his hair you gripped it as a moan slipped out of you - never in your life had you ever been this obscene but something about doing it with Jeonghan felt like this was the big catharsis of your life, waiting to happen.

With a swift movement he flipped you onto your back, laying you on the couch, hovering over you. Without wasting any time, you unbuttoned his shirt, fingers moving nimbly, thank god for fashion school. Jeonghan laughed as you attempted to push the fabric off his shoulders, holding your hands by the wrists, pinning it to your chest.

“Eager aren't we?” He looked at you in a way that could only be described as mocking. “If only you were honest with me from the start we could have been doing this for so long.”

“I'm sorry-”

“Shhh.” Head raised, you watched him drag his mouth down your chest, inching closer to your abdomen. “I hate apologies. You either own it or fix it.”

“How can I fix it?”

“By telling me what you really want.” Pulling your shorts off your legs, he hovered right above where you were aching once again.

“I…I don’t know.” Falling back onto the couch, you stared at the ceiling. “I really don't. I just know that I’ve been weirdly winded and uneasy for a long time and it feels like you’re the only one who can help- oh my god.”

Your eyes widened as you raised yourself on your elbows to see Jeonghan right between your legs, his mouth pressed onto your panties right there.

“Like this?” He grinned before peppering small kisses on the inside of your thigh.

When words refused to leave your dried up throat, you nodded slowly, not looking at him. Leaving your hands Jeonghan hooked his fingers on the elastic of your underwear, “Up.” and pulled it down your raised hips. As it joined the rest of your clothes somewhere on the floor, suddenly you were hyper aware of the fact that you were completely bare while Jeonghan was still almost entirely clothed. Reflexively, your legs tried to squeeze shut, but Jeonghan’s hands stopped them, pulling them over his shoulders instead.

“I wish you could see yourself from my eyes Y/n.” He looked at you, eyes darkened in desire. You probably looked like a flushed, panting mess, completely missing the admiration etched on Jeonghan’s face.

Aware of Jeonghan and his ability to tease and especially his affinity for begging, you opened your mouth to do just the same but what left it was an unholy moan as Jeonghan descended upon you like he was ravenous. As though just his mouth on your clit wasn’t making you lose your mind, his digits too slipped in, pumping slowly. He must’ve liked it when your fingers automatically threaded into his hair because his groan reverberated against your core making your back arch off the couch in pleasure.

Oral was completely new territory - you had never gotten or given it, god knows why considering this was clearly the best thing that has ever happened to you. As discussed yesterday, you let every sound leave your mouth freely, unbothered about the neighbours or people living around. Frankly it could be the end of the world and you wouldn’t care, not with what Jeonghan’s tongue was doing inside you. He too seemed to enjoy your audible reactions and the way it told him just how you liked it, his fingers and mouth taking turns to manhandle you.

“Jeonghan fu-fuck, right there.” You nearly sobbed as his fingers found your sweet spot, the one that made your toes quite literally curl.

“Don’t cum Y/n, I don’t want to be done just yet.”

Well then he should have behaved like it because seconds after he said that you felt that tightening coil in you snap as you embarrassingly loudly, came on his tongue, riding it out against his mouth. Licking his lips Jeonghan pulled himself away from your legs, hovering above you once more, kissing you again. The taste of you in his mouth felt sinful but you let yourself be carried away by it as his hand ran up your thigh seductively before grabbing your more petite hand, placing it right where he was rock hard. As your mouth practically watered at how long and heavy he felt in your hands, Jeonghan buried his face in the crook of your neck, leaving little bite marks of red.

“I thought gentlemen didn’t make a woman cum just once.” You muttered, gripping his erection the best you could in that angle and over his sweats.

Jeonghan hissed, his voice dropping an octave. “I thought you didn’t want anything gentle?”

“I….I don’t.” You confessed out loud for the first time. “Do whatever you want, I can take it.”

Jeonghan raised his eyebrows both pleased and impressed as his fingers toyed with the slick dripping between your folds. Eyes shut tight, you waited to feel him ravage you once again instead, you were met with the sound of a loud knock on your door.

Both Jeonghan and you looked at each other wondering if that was just imagination till another knock pulled you to your senses.

“Please don’t tell me that’s your mother again.” Jeonghan quickly sat up, hands moving to button himself up.

“I hope not.” You got off the couch hurriedly, grabbed your clothes from the floor and quickly threw them on, smoothing out your hair. Jeonghan walked up to the door, waiting with his hand on the handle for you to look decent as you and your wobbly self tried to keep it together. The moment you pulled your shirt over your head and adjusted your shorts, Jeonghan opened the door and your heart dropped to your stomach.

Standing at the entrance was a young woman dressed in an unbelievably tight black dress, her hair held up by a high ponytail as she blew her baby pink bubblegum. She looked up from her phone at you then at the door number as though she was confirming if she was in the right place. You knew exactly why she was here and for whom.

Unable to comprehend how exactly to react in this situation, you grabbed your jacket from the stand and walked past Jeonghan, harshly pulling away from his attempt to hold you back. Not even glancing back, you disappeared into the night doing what you did best - running away.

“Y/n.”

When you opened your eyes you were met with the sight of Jeonghan’s face high above, upside down.

“Oh my god.” You gasped slowly. “Your mouth is on your forehead and your eyes are on your chin.”

“And you’re clearly drunk. Again.” He walked around, lying down on the grass beside you. “Which means it's time for both stupidity and honesty.”

You turned your head towards him. “Did you just call me stupid?”

Jeonghan mirrored you. “I also called you honest.”

“Hmm. Then I'll be honest. I don't want to talk to you.”

“Do you want me to go then?”

“No.” You sighed. “I don't want you to go… to her.”

“She's gone. I sent her away the moment you left.”

“Why did it take you so long to come to me then?” You pouted as Jeonghan laughed.

“I thought you'd be at the restaurant. I didn't expect to find you lying in the middle of the football field.”

In all fairness, that was a valid point - you didn't want to face the boys right now so you purchased a few bottles of soju from the supermarket which were now lying empty around you.

“Why did she come?”

“I didn’t call anyone today.” He sighed. “It’s just, the instruction was for a new one to come every night. They came the last two nights too, I sent them away, just like I did today.”

“Why?”

“Because…. Because we,” Jeonghan cleared his throat. “I mean you and I-”

“Why do you need a new girl every night?”

“I'm not sure.” Jeonghan turned away, staring at the stars. “I guess I'm just… looking for a human connection with someone.”

“Like that?” You scoffed. “By sleeping with someone new everyday?”

“I don’t know Y/n, I don't even know how what I’m searching for feels. Perhaps I’m just looking for someone who makes me feel….. Normal? Like I’m worthy of being cared for.”

“Did you manage to find anyone…. who makes you feel like that?”

Jeonghan turned to you with a small smile, eyes roaming over your features. “Yes but ironically, not by sleeping with them.”

You hummed, pausing for a silent minute.

“Did you never want to try and find that with me?” Eyes big and curious you turned to him. “Did you never want to sleep with me?”

“I did. From the moment I laid my eyes on you.” Jeonghan recalled the first ever words he said to you. I love you. Maybe he didn't just say it out of relief. Maybe a part of him subconsciously knew this was it. You were it. “But you quite literally kept running away from me. Hell, you couldn't even say the word ‘sex'-”

“I want to have sex with you.” You sat up in a flash. “Jeonghan I really do want to have sex with you-”

“You're drunk.” Jeonghan chuckled. “Sober you may not want the same thing-”

“It does. Every me wants this. Jeonghan-” To his complete surprise, you climbed onto him, straddling him around the waist, palms planted on his chest. “-I'm serious. Didn't you say I was honest when I'm drunk?”

“I also said you were stupid when drunk.” He tucked your hair behind your ear fondly. “It won’t be right to do anything now.”

“Fine. I’ll be sober by the morning and ask you first thing when I wake up, do you promise to fuck me right here?”

“Out here? Ok that’s a bit much even for me.” Jeonghan laughed. “You’re a lot wilder than I anticipated, princess.”

“Ugh.” You groaned, lying down on his chest, eyes fluttering shut from the tiredness. “I think you bring out the worst in me.”

“But somehow you bring out the best in me.” Jeonghan stroked your head softly. “I can't remember the last time I felt this free and happy. Strangely, I think I've grown to like this little domestic life with you. The cooking, the shopping, the grandmas, the kids, your mom…..does it all have to end in 2 days?”

When he didn’t get a response, Jeonghan glanced down only to find you fast asleep, mouth slightly open. Laughing silently he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close against his chest as he too dozed off into a peaceful slumber.

Day 9 of 10

You woke up to the feeling of harsh sunlight on your face which was not unusual given you always slept next to the window. What was unusual was waking up in the middle of the football field wrapped in Jeonghan's arms.

You're fully awake in the blink of an eye, mortified by the thought of people having seen the two of you, although no one seemed to be around as far as the eye could see.

“Good morning princess.” Jeonghan yawned, slowly waking up, his arms loosening around you. Taking the chance you slid off him, mumbling a small “morning.” in reply.

Jeonghan snickered, glancing at you. “Someone's definitely sober.”

“We should go….before someone sees us.”

As you looked around trying to spot any unwelcome viewers, Jeonghan raised himself on his elbow, looking down at you.

“Last night you didn't seem to care.”

“Jeonghan….” His finger traced down your arm seductively. “Please let's go home.”

Reading into your urgency, Jeonghan nodded, pulling you up to your feet. As the two of you walked away, his hand was still interlocked in yours.

The streets near your house somehow looked more alive today. Suddenly everyone you knew was out on the street, waving you hi, wishing you good morning, smiling slightly at the sight of the two of you walking hand in hand. Seokmin, Seungkwan and Soonyoung, who normally only turned up in the evening for their shift after classes, were also standing outside the restaurant, looking at the two of you quizzically. As Jeonghan spotted them he let your hand go, greeting them with a nod before glancing at the convenience store.

“I’m gonna grab breakfast.” He stepped back. “We’re going to need our energy for what’s coming.”

As he walked off with a wink and you tried to suppress your excited smile, the boys jogged up to you, gathering around.

“Did I just see you two hold hands?” Soonyoung poked your arm with a smirk.

“Soonyoung later.” Seungkwan shut him up. “Y/n, you have Jeonghan’s phone right?”

“H-his phone?” You shook your head. “Not right now. It’s in the drawer of the tv cabinet…. I think?”

“Well we gotta message that guy, assistant 1, remind him to keep the money ready.”

You blinked like all the words he said just went over your head.

Seungkwan looked at you pointedly, “Tomorrow is the tenth day Y/n, remember what we’re doing all this for?”

“Are you okay?” Seokmin glanced at you lost in thought.

No, no you did not think you were okay.

“No.”

That was the first word that left you the moment you entered your house and Jeonghan closed the door behind you.

“I mean, you were right. Sober me doesn’t want the same thing.”

Jeonghan looked at you trying not to show the surprise and confusion on his face. You, on the other hand, finally had clarity - this was Jeonghan. Mafia boss Yoon Jeonghan. The man who was on the run from the cops, the man who you were in fact holding for a ransom, the man who will be gone in a day. This wasn’t you - sleeping with a man because you couldn’t keep it in your pants. You had no idea why you were behaving like this.

“Jeonghan, I'm a relationship kind of girl. I can’t sleep with someone who…. Who isn’t a permanent part of my life. Who’s just…. in it for one night.”

“What?”

“Jeonghan you’re the kind who needs a new woman every night and I’m not interested in being a part of that long list-”

“Did you not hear a word I said last night?”

“You told me to learn how to say no.” You raised your hands. “I’ve learnt it and this is me saying no. “ You let out a deep, determined breath. “I don’t want this.”

Jeonghan stared at you for a minute before his eyes fell to the floor.

“If that’s what you want.”

And with that he walked past you, finishing everything just as easily as it started.

Strangely, the rest of the day, Jeonghan didn’t behave any differently than he usually did. You expected him to be mad or at least upset but quite frankly, he seemed unbothered. You did notice though that he ordered his own food for lunch and seemed particularly cautious about how he was around you in your personal space. Gone was the Jeonghan who liked to lean in to say the simplest of things.

His lack of botheration though, particularly bothered you. From the things he had said and the way he had behaved, it seemed like he wanted you as much as you wanted him so how was it so easy for him to put so much distance between the two of you when it was excruciatingly painful for you to stay even a foot away from him? How was he able to be so calm and casual, like you didn’t just completely cast him aside? How did it not matter to him that you didn’t want him to be a part of your life?

It was because of all this consistent overthinking that you could only manage to keep yourself away from Jeonghan for about five hours, till around sunset. Finding a pack of condoms in the bag of food he brought from the supermarket was probably what finally set you off.

“What is wrong with you?” You threw the pack onto the couch beside him.

Jeonghan glanced at the pack, then at you. “Based on last night’s conversation, I assumed certain things about today, so I thought that was a sensible purchase.”

“Exactly, why aren’t you more upset?” You crossed your arms. “I told you I wanted to last night, you even prepared for it, then in the very last second, I said no-”

“That’s exactly why I’m not upset.” Sighing, Jeonghan stood. “Y/n, I’m glad you said no. I’m happy you learnt to say it. I couldn't care less that I’m the first victim of this newfound voice, I’m just happy you found it.”

You blinked at him.

“I know you’re thinking about the future and that’s fair. I don’t know how long I can be here or if I will be forced to be on the run again, or what really is in store for me but I’m just happy that even if I’m not there, you will be able to respect yourself the way I do. That you won’t compromise with what you want for what others want from you-”

Strangely overwhelmed, you pulled him by his shirt and claimed his breath with a kiss. Almost instantly, Jeonghan kissed you back, hands gripping your waist, mouth ravenously capturing yours like the five hours you were apart were unbearable for him too.

“Wait.” He pulled back when the loss of breath somehow brought him back to his senses. “Y/n what-”

“Fuck me Jeonghan.”

“Didn’t you say-”

“I take it back.”

“Y/n.” Jeonghan pulled away, holding you at an arm's distance. “Don’t do things you’ll regret.”

“But I want this.” You kissed him again, muttering against his mouth. “I want you.”

Jeonghan clearly, if anything, was a man. The moment you whispered a soft please, grinding your hip against his, he smashed his lips onto yours again, refusing to break away even though the two of you could barely find footing as you stumbled to your room. He only parted when the back of his knees hit your bed, forcing him to sit down and he looked up at you between the tresses falling into his eyes. You pushed it back, running the back of your hand along his cheek.

“I wish the world looked at me the way you do.”

“If anyone else looked at you this way,” Jeonghan raised his eyebrows. “I’m afraid it's going to be the last thing they ever look at.”

You laughed rolling your eyes. “A little admiration isn’t a crime.”

“If admiration is what you want, then I shall bend the will of every man in the city into doing so.” He smirked, attempting to bite your fingers lingering by his lips. “Let me properly show you mine first.”

As he tugged on your shirt you obediently pulled it over your head as he stripped out of his own. It wasn’t the first time the two of you were seeing each other shirtless but there was a strange charged energy rippling between you now, one that was almost impossible to ignore. As you bent down to kiss him again, his hands found the hooks of your bra, unclasping them as you quickly dragged it down your arms, tossing it somewhere. His hand ran up the insides of your thigh, a jolt running through you when his fingers grazed over your clit. As you gasped, he took the chance to pull you closer by the leg, running his mouth below your belly button.

“Jeonghan, haven’t we had enough foreplay?” You sighed, throwing your head back as he marked your skin, slowly pulling both your shorts and underwear in one go. “We’ve been doing this for days, let’s just get to it please.”

“To what?” Feigning innocence he smirked, running his tongue along his teeth.

“Fucking.” You pushed him back into the bed. “Fuck me Jeonghan. Properly. Your dick inside me kinds.”

Jeonghan raised himself on his elbows, laughing. “Look at you, using your big girl words.”

Kicking off the rest of your clothes, you attempted to straddle him when he pulled you into the mattress and in a flash, you were lying on the bed and he was towering over you instead. Sticking his hand in his pocket, he pulled out a condom and threw it at you.

“Open it.”

Holding the wrapper between your teeth, you ripped it open as fast as you could, earning a tutting noise from Jeonghan.

“Y/n, you could make a hole like that.”

You stared at him blankly, like you were supposed to understand what he was saying when he was standing there with his pants discarded, stroking himself. Your mouth was in a strange combination of being dry but also somehow almost drooling. Almost the same way you wanted him both in your mouth and rearranging your organs down under, all at once. Jeonghan chuckled at your inability to function as he gently grabbed the latex from you and rolled it over his length. You shouldn’t have expressed so much eagerness to have him fuck you - you could’ve felt every vein and ridge you were seeing in your mouth first but that thought dissipated the moment Jeonghan hovered over you, grabbing you by the jaw. Almost reflexively, your mouth opened for him, allowing him to slide his thumb in as you earnestly sucked it, hoping his smirk would turn into the hunger to feel your lips around him. As much as Jeonghan did tell you to ask for what you want, you had a feeling if you told him just how desperate you were to have him fuck your mouth, he would never let you live it down.

“I know what you want.” Jeonghan spoke under his breath as his hand trailed down your body, slipping between your legs. “But I want this a lot more. Is that okay?”

Okay? You nodded immediately - it was absolutely okay. You just wanted to be full of him one way or another. Jeonghan shook his head.

“Words baby.” He slid his thumb in, almost embarrassingly easily, as he stared at his finger disappear inside you. “Although this is telltale, we will do whatever you want.” He leaned over, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“You.” You breathed out, “However, wherever-”

And the words died on your tongue when he swiftly pulled his finger out and immediately entered you, gently pushing in till he bottomed out. Chest heaving, you could feel yourself panting as your body tried to adjust to his girth. Jeonghan groaned into your ear as your walls fluttered around him, still getting accustomed to the stretch.

“I knew you’d feel good.”

“Y-yeah?”

“You feel fucking perfect.” Jeonghan pulled back just a little, his hips setting a slow rhythm. “I could be in you forever.”

Before a proud smile could even fully form on your face, Jeonghan picked up the pace, making your lips part with a moan.

“I….Oh god.” You whined, trying to find your words in between his continuous strokes. “I….. didn’t think you were a missionary kind of guy.”

Jeonghan chuckled as he ran his hand down your leg and pulled your knee up so he could grip your thigh. “I want to see you cum.” Sighing, he bit on your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth. “I want to see how I make you feel.”

“So fucking good.” You muttered against his mouth, finding your hips moving against his on their own accord. You wanted to make him feel good so you wrapped your legs around his waist and ran your nails down his back and wow did that work like a charm because Jeonghan’s rhythm instantly faltered, as did his grip on your thigh, surely bruising it.

“Oh Y/n,” He slipped his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit when you groaned at the touch. “I can play the game too.”

“Whatever you do, just- fuck.” You squirmed as Jeonghan seemed to have the perfect combination of thrusts and rubbing circles. “Just don’t stop.”

“Never.” He groaned, continuing to make you fall apart as you felt your back arch off the mattress, toes curling in pleasure. Jeonghan latched his mouth on your bared neck, muttering, “Yes, yes cum for me.”

And you did, finally, after days of desiring to be railed by this man, you came around him, body keening under his weight, eyes nearly rolling back. As you slowly panted back to reality, Jeonghan, who had long pulled out of you and rolled off you onto his side, was looking at you intently. Embarrassed that this was not the first but the second time he managed to break you in minutes, you covered your face with your hands, earning Jeonghan’s laugh.

“Why are you hiding?” He tried to pry your hands away, only to fail. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to look more pretty but fuck you looked so beautful when you came.”

“Jeonghan please….”

“Please what?” He chuckled, shifting beside you. “I’ve seen all there is to.”

You shook your head, choosing the darkness over meeting his eyes when suddenly, you felt him crawl between your legs and his mouth descend on you as he spread them apart. Considering how sensitive you were, your hands immediately flew to his head, eyes widening as he licked your arousal, looking at you victoriously.

“I can’t….” You muttered and he pulled away, licking his lips, sitting back on his heels. Eyes running over his flushed face and body, you noticed the marks of your nail on his bicep, and also the fact that he was still hard as ever.

“You didn’t finish.” You sat up, crossing your legs, only just realizing.

“I usually need a lot more than a few minutes to finish.” He pursed his lips but you knew he was trying to hold back a smile. A mocking one, at how easily you seemed to cum.

“Then let’s go again.” You cocked your head. “…. On one condition.”

“And what is that?”

You let out a deep breath. “Take off your condom.”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows shot up. “You can’t be serious.”

“Considering you sleep with a new woman every night, I’m guessing you always use protection.”

“Always, that's an unsaid rule”

“But I’m not them, so their rules can’t apply to me.” It was your turn to smirk. “We’ll see how long you last when you fuck me raw.”

“Look at you, challenging me.” Jeonghan smiled like he was proud. “But it's not safe Y/n-”

“What’s life without a little recklessness?” You rolled your eyes earning Jeonghan’s laugh. “Besides, that condom probably already has a hole from my teeth so-”

“So I’ll grab another one.”

“Yoon Jeonghan, if you leave this bed, this ends.” You crossed your arms. “Your choice.”

“You’re not giving me much of a choice really.”

“I know.” You grinned. “Now might also be a good time to add that though I might not be one of your regular nightly encounters, you should know that I heard you almost every night.” You let your voice go softer. “And I liked it….. A lot.”

Finally, finally, Jeonghan’s expression darkened the way you wanted it to. “I suspected.”

“And I’m confirming.” You shrugged. “And by the way, I also have an IUD so I’m not sure what you’re waiting for.”

Jeonghan paused for a minute before he finally spoke. “On your knees.”

You shook your head, extending your hand and pulling his condom off, tossing the latex in a nearby bin. “In my mouth.”

“I don’t think so, princess.” Jeonghan not so gently pushed you back into the mattress, your back barely hitting it before he flipped you over and pulled you onto your knees. “I prefer blowjobs as a wake up call. This time of the night, I like to prove bratty girls wrong.”

You laughed, looking over your shoulder. “But I want to see your face when I prove you wrong.”

Knowing exactly what you wanted, Jeonnghan sighed before lying down on his back next to you, allowing you to move over and straddle him.

“My bet is 9 minutes.” You ran your hand down his chest. “I don’t think you can last till double digits.”

“We both know you won’t last even half of that Y/n-” He smirked. “-given your track record.”

Deciding to prove him wrong with actions not words, you aligned his tip under you and sank down his length with a slow, deep moan. The stretch in this new angle felt different but it also let you take him further in, deeper than you had even imagined it was possible.

Maybe Jeonghan was right about you breaking first. Given the way he made you feel so full, the way you felt every inch of his bare length in your insides, you knew it was only a matter of time.

Or maybe not. Evidently, this was the first time Jeonghan was ever fucking someone raw. You could tell by the way he sounded with every drag of your walls against his dick - the struggling breathy moans that he was trying not to let out as you picked up the pace.

You knew if you chose to grind your hips against his, it would help reach those spots in you a whole lot better, sending waves of pleasure through your body but you were determined to make Jeonghan cum first. That’s why you supported yourself with your palms on his chest, moving your hips up and down along his length and momentarily, Jeonghan gripped your waist tight, encouraging you to move just like that. At least until he realised he was getting too close to cumming and too close to losing. Changing strategy, he grabbed and squeezed your boobs instead, trying to ignore his own approaching high. When you responded with a whimper, satisfied, he dragged his hand down, bringing attention to your ignored clit.

“That’s cheating.” You panted, throwing your head back, feeling the coil tighten in your stomach.

Jeonghan snickered, shaking his head, refusing to stop his ministrations. If there was one thing he always took pride in, it was his ability to capitalize on every woman’s weakness - her clit.

Though you were feeling your legs shake and your arms were struggling to hold your weight, you didn’t stop, ignoring your breaths which were getting fast and shallow.

Jeonghan however, immediately picked up on it, reaching for your wrist and pulling you, making you fall over, onto him.

“Hey,” He tried to get a good look at your face. “You okay?”

“Tired.” You mumbled. “I’ve never been on top.”

“Let me.” He whispered, dropping a kiss on your cheek as you nodded.

Grabbing your ass with both his hands he raised it, guiding your movements and snapping his hips up at the same time. You on the other hand, let him have his way with you, busying yourself, alternating leaving marks all over his neck and shoulder and moaning sweetly into his ear. Both things seemed to rile him effectively as his pace became merciless and erratic, pounding into you the way you had only dreamed of for days. With a few more rough thrusts, you felt your walls tighten around him as the coil in you finally snapped and thanks to your tight constriction around his length, Jeonghan too came inside you, ropes of white filling you as he groaned in your ear.

As the two of you slowly came down from your high, Jeonghan wrapped his arms around you, dropping a sweet kiss in your hair. You snuggled into his neck, ignoring the feeling of your mixed releases leaking out of you.

“That was definitely more than 9 minutes.” Jeonghan pointed out.

“I lasted more than half.”

“So neither of us won?” Jeonghan hummed.

You pulled yourself up, looking at him. “Or maybe…. we need round three to decide.”

“You read my mind.” He smirked, quickly flipping you onto your back, ignoring your shriek of surprise as he hovered over you. The night was still so so young.

Day 10 of 10

By the time you came around, the night had passed and the sun had begun to rise. No wonder it felt a whole lot warmer even though you were butt naked, covered by just a thin blanket thrown over you. It was the morning sun and also Jeonghan, who was comfortably snuggled in your arms, his breath soft against the crook of your neck. As you shifted from him just a little, trying to glance at his beautiful face, he pulled away, grumbling as he rolled onto his back, still fast asleep. Raising yourself on your elbow, you glanced at him.

Last night was…..something. You never really admitted to yourself in the last few days that you had thought about sleeping with Jeonghan a few hundred times, but now you did and you also had to admit that it was nowhere how you thought it would have gone. Maybe rounds two, three, four and how many ever that followed did match up to that but somehow, it was round one that was playing in your mind. The unexpected softness from him, the way he was looking into your eyes….. It all felt a bit strange. Like it was something you would do.

On the other hand, the wild person you expected Jeonghan to be, ended up coming out of you. The kinds of things you said? The kinds of things you did? It was so uncharacteristic yet….. It didn’t feel wrong. In fact, in a very long time, you were feeling strangely liberated. Like there was no fairytale ending written for you and surprisingly you didn’t mind that.

But speaking of happy endings…..

You determinedly pulled away your blanket covering Jeonghan, glancing at how his boxers were on again. Maybe he put them on after you had promptly passed out last night, completely worn out and exhausted, just the way he seemed to have cleaned you up before tucking you in. Pulling your hair up into a bun, you got between his legs, pulling down the elastic of his underwear, taking his dick into your hands. Surprisingly, Jeonghan didn’t stir awake, or even move an inch so you promptly began stroking it, quickening your movements, especially when you slowly felt him harden under your touch. It was only when you spat in your hand and began to jerk him off more steadily that he finally came around, eyes slowly blinking open.

“First thing in the morning?” He smiled sleepily. “You’re insatiable.”

“Rise and shine.” You grinned. “Someone said something about a wake up call.”

“I said I’d like your mouth.” He tucked his hand below his head looking at you with what you could only comprehend as a mix of lust and fondness.

Smiling, you got down on your stomach, wrapping your mouth around his tip eliciting a shaky breath from him. You pulled back with a wet pop and the lick of the lips. “And it's all yours.”

Jeonghan chuckled, whispering, “You’re going to be the end of me princess.”

Little did he know.... you actually were.

The warm water on your skin was much needed after an unexpectedly long morning. Actually, it was very much expected considering the way you woke Jeonghan up. It was only natural that he would return the favor to the best of his abilities and that somehow spiraled from one thing to another, causing morning to turn into afternoon. Your stomach let out a low rumble, reminding you that you were hungry and that you should have put water to boil so you could make some ramyeon for lunch. You knew Jeonghan particularly enjoyed soggy noodles and it was also the quickest meal you could have given how much energy was exhausted in the last 12 or so hours.

As you stepped out of the shower, dried yourself and slipped into a comfortable pair of clothes, conspicuously leaving the top two buttons open, you found Jeonghan standing in the kitchen behind the stove.

“You put the water to boil?” You smiled relieved. “Thank god-”

“You kidnapped me?” Jeonghan turned to you, eyes flashing the pain of betrayal. In his hand was his phone, the one you had safely stashed in the drawer and on the screen was a message from his assistant. One that said the money in exchange for Jeonghan was ready. “All these days, you let me stay in your house because you were holding me for ransom?”

“Jeonghan I know what it looks like and I can explain-”

“All this for what? To buy your grandmother’s shop again?”

“No….” You stepped up shaking your head. “I didn’t even know about the shop till you were with me. Jeonghan, I didn’t do this for money-”

“I should have known when your mother said she had no brother.” Jeonghan shook his head like he couldn’t believe himself. “Keeping me here as a twisted revenge for your incarcerated uncle, why did I overlook how stupid that was?”

“Okay that was a lie, but I didn’t make it up.” You tried to hold his hand, but he pulled away hurtfully. “Jeonghan, it was the boys…. I just went with whatever they told me to do. Things just turned out this way, none of us planned for it to happen and…. I wasn’t going to go through with this plan anyways, I was going to call it off today-”

“Why?” Jeonghan looked at you impassively. “What changed in 10 days?”

You blinked at him, words lost. “I….. I got to know you. I saw who you could be if you distanced yourself from all that crime and lived a normal life. I always believe people deserve a second chance and I thought so do you. And we didn’t even get a first chance-”

You turned at the sound of the doorbell before glancing at the clock. A part of you wanted to ignore it and clear the air with Jeonghan but when it rang urgently again, you sighed, turning to him.

“I think it’s the boys, I’m sorry, just give me a second.”

Rushing, you half ran over to the door quickly opening it, shaking your head. “Guys, things are a mess-”

But it seemed like the bigger mess had in fact just arrived. Standing before you was the one person you did not want to see, especially now - Bohyun.

“W-what are you doing here? And how did you even find me?”

Uninvited, Bohyun stepped in walking past you. “Your mother….” He turned to you, clearing his throat. “I assumed when you left that you had gone overseas, to Paris maybe, your dream city. But your mother said she met you and your new boyfriend so I figured you were in town and considering how your grandmother moved in with your mom, I guessed that you would be here.” He looked at you painfully. “Is… Is it true? Do you actually have a boyfriend now?”

“Bohyun….” You ran your fingers through your hair stressed. There was too much going on at once. Your past and your potential future were at crossroads you had never imagined. “I don’t know what to tell you-”

“Maybe try telling the truth Y/n.” Jeonghan walked out of the kitchen, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Don’t you think it’s time?”

“You….” Bohyun’s eyes widened as they fell on Jeonghan and he immediately stepped back, pulling you behind him. “You’re Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Finally.” Jeonghan scoffed. “Someone knows.”

“Y/n, I don’t know what this man has been telling you but he is a criminal.” Bohyun looked at you over his shoulder. “His posters are all over the city, he’s wanted by the cops-”

“She knows.” Jeonghan's voice shook, just a little. “She knows exactly who I am and exactly what I’m worth.”

“Jeonghan please-”

“You know?” Bohyun turned to you, shocked. “You know who he is and you chose to be with him?”

“Bohyun…. y-you have no idea what’s going on here.”

“Oh I do.” He let out a breath like this was all ridiculous. “You’re so desperate for a man, that you would throw yourself at literally anyone-”

And before he could ever complete that sentence, Jeonghan turned him by the shoulder and landed a hard punch straight at his jaw.

“Jeonghan!”

As Bohyun stumbled, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, he snarled at the other man, throwing a punch on his own, straight in his midriff, making him buckle over. As the two men furiously threw hands, bruising and bleeding, you stood frozen, unable to watch them or stop them. Before you knew it though, within minutes, Jeonghan had Bohyun on his knees, the latter struggling to keep his eyes open, just one blow away from being knocked out. As Jeonghan raised his hand, you quickly put yourself between the two men.

“Jeonghan no.”

“Did you not hear the way he spoke about you?” He looked uncharacteristically furious, breathing hard. “How dare he-”

“That’s between Bohyun and I. You shouldn’t have come in between.”

Jeonghan lowered his hand, looking at you like he was jolted. Standing up staggering, Bohyun wiped the blood from his mouth, hissing.

“You heard her. Clearly, she picks me.” He smiled victoriously. “The only place you belong is in jail, you bastard, where the fuck is my phone-”

“Y/n, after all he’s done to you, you’re really siding with him?”

“Jeonghan, I think you should leave.” Your voice left you in a soft whisper as he looked at you unbelievably hurt. “Please just…. it’s best that you go.”

Tearing his eyes away from you, Jeonghan let out a shaky breath before slowly nodding. “If that’s what you want.”

And with that, without so much as sparing you a glance, he walked past you and out of your house as you watched him disappearing from your sight. When you finally let out the breath you were holding, Bohyun put his arm around your shoulder.

“I knew you still loved me.” He rubbed your arm. “You and I were always meant to be, sweetheart.”

Tongue in your cheek you sighed before removing Bohyun’s arm from around you. Turning to him, with everything you had in your being, you slapped him right across the face. Bohyun stumbled at the impact, looking shell shocked.

“The only thing you and I are, is over.” You spat, the words bitter in your mouth. “How could you even think of coming back to me?”

“Babe-”

“Don't call me that.” You pushed him away. “You're right. I always did choose you. I always put you above me, but you? Forget loving me, you didn't have the minimum decency to respect me.”

“Y/n, I said sorry, I really am sorry.”

“Me too.” You stood your ground. “I’m sorry to myself. I'm sorry I gave you the chance to push me around like this. I'm sorry I didn't stand up for myself sooner. But I'm done now. I won't be making the same mistakes.”

“Y/n….” Bohyun held your arm softer than he ever had in the many years you were together. “I know I was wrong. The last few months without you weren't the same, I realised how bad I was to you and how much I need you please don't do this. Please come back…..what we had was so good-”

“Good for you Bohyun, but not good enough for me.” You pulled your arm away. “I won't take you back this time, or ever. We're done for good.”

Bohyun stared at the floor, coming to terms with your words.

“It's because of Yoon Jeonghan isn't it?” His voice turned into a nasty snarl. “You would choose a criminal over me-”

“You still don't get it, do you?” You looked at him with disbelief. “It's not him I choose, it's myself.”

“But-”

“I'm done explaining. I don't owe you anymore conversation, I didn't even owe you this.” You sighed, walking up to the door, holding it open. “Get out of my house.”

Bohyun tried to meet your eye as he slowly walked up to you while you refused to so much as look at him. When he realised you were not going to change your mind, he stepped out of the house and you closed the door behind him with a resounding slam. Holding your racing heart you leaned against it, unable to believe what you just did.

Something in you felt free yet your heart was strangely heavy - you got rid of Bohyun but you lost Jeonghan in the process. Unwilling to give him up, you quickly grabbed your jacket and phone and rushed out of the house, calling your friends. Hopefully he hadn't gotten too far.

You needed to see him again. You needed to tell him everything truthfully.

As the night sky darkened, you walked into your apartment slowly, finding yourself alone in it after days.

You didn’t find Jeonghan anywhere. When you told the boys about all that happened, they were beyond understanding, immediately helping you look for him too. But alas, he was nowhere to be found.

As you sank into the couch, heartbroken over how things ended between you two, Seungkwan's message popped on your phone screen.

Y/n, I think you should see the news.

Panicking, you grabbed your remote and turned on the TV only to see your worst nightmare - Jeonghan being handcuffed and led away by the cops.

“Mafia criminal and mastermind Yoon Jeonghan surrendered a few hours ago to the city police force after nearly 15 days of absconding. The precise reason for why he turned himself in and where he was all this while is unknown but the police are investigating the case. Yoon Jeonghan escaped prison on the 15th of August after tricking two security guards with a severe stomach ache and requesting for medical assistance…..”

The rest of the words faded away as you watched the footage of Jeonghan being escorted away. The pain of betrayal was still flashing in his eyes. Everything was truly over.

10 days later.

Jeonghan leaned against the wall of his cell, staring into the darkness. He knew it was well into the night but sleep wasn't coming to him as always. Every time he closed his eyes, he could only see you, every time he opened them he instinctively looked for you - you refused to get out of his head.

When Jeonghan saw you for the first time, admittedly he thought you were incredibly beautiful but he saw you as more of a conquest - you had that sweet, innocent expression but there was something darker lingering behind your eyes. It made him want to tease it out of you, expose you for what you really were but with each day, when he saw how simple and soft you were, that desire in him died. In his world everything was as corrupt as could be and you were so good to him, Jeonghan knew that little uncommon goodness had to be preserved, remain untouched. That's why though he itched to get under your skin, he tried his best to keep his distance.

That was of course until you decided to kiss him - after that Jeonghan knew keeping his hands off you was the hardest thing he ever had to do. It wasn’t just because he was uncharacteristically attracted to you, normally it was girls in skin tight leather pants and low neck dresses that caught his attention but because he……liked you. He liked watching you work, he liked spending time with you, he liked the idea of a quiet, uneventful life with you. He had spent all his life chasing something that made him feel complete, not even knowing what it was, until those 10 days with you - that was what he wanted.

But clearly you didn’t want him. Though he was unable to accept it at the moment, eventually, he believed you when you said it was never your intention to kidnap him. When he discovered his ringing phone in the drawer due to his assistant’s consistent calling and found out that his price was a hundred thousand dollars Jeonghan was beyond hurt. But you were right - you didn’t know about your grandmother’s shop until the last few days. His assistant too confirmed that it was more the boy's plan than yours and that it was definitely not intentional because it was so poorly made that thanks to his phone, his assistant knew Jeonghan's location the whole time - he was only letting the boys get away with it so Jeonghan had a safe place to hide till things fell in place.

Regardless of everything that happened, it still didn’t mean that you wanted him. Especially when that ex of yours came into your life yet again and you so easily asked him to leave - Jeonghan received the message loud and clear. He was not wanted.

By you at least. The city police definitely wanted him and he knew he had to be on the run yet again but with a part of him left behind in your home, he didn’t know how he was supposed to move away and move on. All he could do was hopelessly wish that you had left a part of you with him too and didn’t always just appear before him like a figment of his imagination. Even now his eyes were playing tricks, showing him the image of you crouched outside his cell bars. You were wearing a police uniform though - Jeonghan softly chuckled. Roleplay was a new element in his imagination.

Or not.

Because as Jeonghan stared harder, expecting the mirage of you to disappear, you smiled at him with a small wave and the whisper of his name…..You were actually here.

Panicking, Jeonghan quickly got to his feet rushing towards you. As his fingers touched your face, confirming your presence, he shook his head.

“Oh no…. Y/n, what are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too.” You chuckled. “And what do you mean? I’m here to rescue you.”

“Rescue me?”

You nodded. “We’re gonna break out of this prison.”

“You’re insane.” You grinned as Jeonghan looked at you with disbelief. “You shouldn’t even be here and I can’t run away from here-”

“You did it last time.”

“Precisely why. The security is at an all time high, they’re not going to let the same mistake happen twice.”

“You think I don’t know that?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Why do you think it took me 10 days to come to you? I was doing my research and figuring out how to get you out of here, and I have found a foolproof way.”

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes. “And what is that?”

“Just follow my lead.” You pulled out a pair of keys from your pocket, opened his cell door and thrust a package into his hand as you walked in. “Change into this quickly. We only have 17 minutes till the security footage is on loop. We need to get out of here before that.”

As he confusedly dressed himself, you pulled out a can of spray paint from your pocket and scribbled a message on the wall, one that Jeonghan could barely read thanks to the dimness of the cell. Tossing the can aside, you too quickly stripped out of your uniform and changed into clothes similar to Jeonghan’s.

“Don’t stare, Yoon.” You smiled, pulling your hair into a bun, tucking it under the hat. “This is not the first or last time you’re gonna see me naked.”

As Jeonghan tried to process all the information, you quickly gathered all the discarded clothes with one hand and held his hand with the other, rushing out of the cell. At the end of the corridor was a cleaning cart in which you promptly dumped all the clothes and asked him to follow you. As you led the way to the washrooms cautiously, keeping an eye on the patrolling security, Jeonghan realised the two of you were wearing the uniforms of the cleaning staff. Finally, you led him to a ladies washroom, promptly locking it behind you.

“Y/n, what are we doing-”

“Look, that’s the cleaning supplies closet, inside it is a door that leads to the older wing of this prison that is now undergoing renovation. This door was supposed to be locked from the other side but I already broke it open in the morning.”

“Morning?”

“I came in with a bunch of medical volunteers for the camp but I never left the premises - I’ve been hiding here all day. Now we’ve to get through this door and cross the construction site without being seen by the patrolling guards in-” You glanced at your watch. “-8 minutes where the boys are waiting with transport. If we don’t, the guards are gonna figure out you’re missing and security will tighten and we will never be able to get out. If you have any other questions, I promise I’ll answer all of them once we get in the car, okay?”

Letting out an unsure breath, Jeonghan nodded, following through with your plan to the T. In all the years Jeonghan had been in crime, he had drawn up several heists and master plans but this….. This was probably the most meticulous and well thought out plan he had ever seen. It was to the point it actually both impressed and terrified him that you, the girl who was hiding behind her three friends the first time he tried to talk to you, were the one who came up with it. When the two of you finally stepped out of the last fence, Jeonghan looked back at prison in awe - he thought this time, he was back here for good but when you called out his name and he turned to you, Jeonghan knew the only place he belonged was with you.

As the two of you trudged through the woods, hand in hand, sirens began to go off in the prison behind you, making you pick up speed, only stopping at the sight of a white car and a white bike beside the very stressed Seokmin, Seungkwan and Soonyoung. The boys sighed in relief as the two of you approached, quickly giving you two a new set of clothes to change into, ushering you into the car. As the two of you began to do so yet again, Jeonghan looked at you intently.

“Come on Jeonghan, the faster we move from here the better.”

“Why did you do this? Why did you save me?”

“Why did you surrender?”

“Because….” Jeonghan sighed. “I didn’t want your ex to have the power over you with the information that you were housing a criminal. But if I was already in their custody, they wouldn’t really care about where I was on the days I was missing.”

You smiled at him softly. “So much from a guy who didn’t understand what it meant to put others before yourself.”

“I told you, you bring out the best in me.” He laughed. “Evidently, I do bring out the worst in you. This was the most badass thing ever, I would’ve never imagined you would do it.”

“Well, someone did tell me I shouldn’t be afraid to ask or go for what I want.” You leaned back against the door. “I’m done sitting and taking whatever life hands me with the hope that it will be my fairytale ending. I’m gonna take things into my own hands now.”

“Successfully you mean.” Jeonghan smirked at you. “You had been trying to take things in your hands for quite a while. Like the first few days you tried so hard to get me arrested again?”

“You knew about that??”

“It was cute, how you were trying to do the right thing. I should have known you would have never held me hostage for money.”

“I was going to tell you about it before things spiraled. I had to get you out of my house first so you were at least safe from Bohyun, even if that meant you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you.” Jeonghan confessed. “I never can. You showed me what I truly wanted from life.”

“As did you. Which is why I ended things with Bohyun once and for all and now I’m here with you, for whatever adventure it is that’s ahead of us.”

“Adventure?” Jeonghan looked at you surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I managed to track down your assistant when I received the papers that I apparently own my grandmother's shop again.” Jeonghan returned your accusatory expression with a sheepish one. “He told me that the last many days, he had been working on liquidating your assets. He also managed to arrange for you to get out of the country and go elsewhere.” You smiled at him. “And I convinced him to let me tag along with you."

“No…..” Jeonghan shook his head. “No you’re not leaving behind your life here and following me around-”

“Jeonghan, I have no life here.” You sighed. “I always thought I was the kind who wanted something safe and secure but you made me see that deep down I’ve been craving for something more, something stimulating and exciting. I genuinely do want to go with you.”

“Your mom?”

“Is more than happy to learn that her daughter is going to Milan to explore her fashion dreams and that my grandmother can move back to her old apartment.”

“You….. You’re really sure?”

“Never been more sure.” You reached for his hand, holding it. Jeonghan stroked the back of your hand softly, a smile growing on his face. It did seem like he wanted to say something, until Soonyoung knocked on the window urgently, ushering you out. Putting on the last of your clothes, the two of you stepped out.

“If the guards send people out to look for Jeonghan, we might get caught here.” Seokmin tapped his foot nervously.

“Yeah, we need to leave as soon as possible.” Seungkwan added, looking equally scared.

“Relax,” You rolled your eyes. “They’re not going to find us. They’re not even going to try to look.”

All four boys looked at you skeptically but it was Jeonghan that spoke up, “Y/n, What did you write on that wall?”

“Fool you once, shame on you. Fool you twice, more shame for you.” You shrugged, quoting yourself. “I basically wrote in short that if they knew what was good for them, they would keep their mouth shuts and allow the public to think you were still in their captivity rather than admit that you fooled them twice in the span of a month and they are incapable of keeping their prisoners in check. I might have also added that you will not be creating any trouble anymore, rest assured, this secret is best buried in the walls of the prison itself.”

As your friends stared at you with hung jaws, Jeonghan laughed like he couldn’t believe his ears. “Who are you?”

“You should’ve seen her the last 10 days.” Soonyoung mumbled. “All the planning, the plotting, she even stitched all these uniforms from scratch, it was low-key terrifying.”

“I want to know all the details of this master plan.” Jeonghan looked proud. “Every single one of them.”

“And you will, we have a long journey to Italy.” You clapped your hands, then held it out to Seugnkwan. “Bike keys.”

“You don’t want the car?”

“Bike is more fun.” You said casually, reaching for the helmets. “And I’m going to drive.”

Jeonghan raised his eyebrow impressed, “So the princess is going to rescue me on her big white…. bike.”

“Guess we got our fairytale ending after all.” You laughed, getting on as your friends rolled their eyes and got into the car. Pulling Jeonghan closer, you finally kissed him, before mumbling against his lips. “Or I guess this time, I’m really kidnapping a mafia boss.”

a/n - I cannot explain how much trouble the 1000 blocks per post limit caused. I hope the spacing inconsistency was overlooked oops! Don't forget to leave you thoughts and opinions about the story! This one took a lot of time and effort to make :)

#svthub #thediamondlifenetwork #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan angst #yoon jeonghan angst #jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fic #jeonghan oneshot #seventeen fic #seventeen series #seventeen imagines #accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss #reverse trope

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heirofnight · 4 months ago

Text

meddling, pt. 2

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.4k

summary: the next little installment of pure preciousness revolving around these two. no plot, just fluff. azriel is smitten with the idea of doting on reader - he's just pure and sweet and wants to make her life easier. reader wears azriel's sweater, and his heart almost explodes. azriel then rearranges the entire library for reader because she can't reach her favorite books. enjoy!

a/n: thank you so much for all of the love revolving around this little drabble-turned-series! this is another example of me sitting down and just writing until i feel like stopping. no plot, just cutesy fluff. i hope you love it! also lightly edited, sorry for any mistakes. <3

read part one here

six months ago, you'd arrived at the house of wind. for the first two months, you had gone to great lengths to isolate yourself from the high lord and his family. while you'd had no initial negative feelings towards the group, you'd prioritized cultivating a peaceful environment for yourself after the past you'd so narrowly escaped from. this involved keeping to yourself, finding solace in the private library a few doors down from your rooms, and not speaking to anyone else.

four months ago, you'd been tricked into attending your first family dinner in the dining hall on the second floor. funnily enough, the house itself - along with one of az's stray little shadows - were the reasons why you'd ended up frozen in the archway of the dining room, every instinct in your body screaming at you to flee to your chambers. after polite coaxing from rhys, and encouraging nods from azriel, you'd felt welcomed as a new member of the tight-knit inner circle by the end of the meal.

you still found yourself looking back on that evening and smiling fondly.

now, this evening, you were perched on your favorite chair within the library, book in hand. you'd cycled through several different series over the last few months, and tonight, you were beginning a new trilogy that you'd found tucked at the top of your go-to shelf. the tall, wooden display of books contained a myriad of novels in every genre you could imagine. you struggled to reach the top row of books, which - of course - contained your favorite genre: romance. you briefly wondered if the males that resided here had sequestered books about love in this hard-to-reach spot on purpose. you'd had to grab a footstool and still stand on your tip-toes to reach the novels you'd desired.

alas, you'd finally grabbed them - all three at once, to save yourself the exertion of all but climbing the entire shelf when it was time to move onto the other two books in a few days.

you were snuggled comfortably in your favorite armchair, large droplets of rain pelting the side of the library's windows. it was dark, gloomy, and the perfect reading weather. a fire burned brightly within the hearth across from you, warming your legs and toes. dim fae lights and candles flickered a relaxing glow into the space.

you nuzzled into an oversized, lived-in, charcoal grey sweater. it belonged to azriel - well, it had - and his scent still lingered as if it were woven into the threads themselves.

he'd silently approached you last week, same sweater folded neatly in his hands, politely extending the fabric your way. you'd abandoned the focus on the book in front of you to meet his gaze, brows cinching together in silent confusion.

"you said you were always cold," he started, voice quiet. he always spoke to you so quietly. gently. and he wasn't wrong, you truly were always freezing - a fact the house had learned, too. it made sure to always have the hearth burning in any room you were occupying.

you smiled fondly up at him, nodding once. "i'm surprised you remember that, az," you said, a faint rosiness creeping onto your cheeks. he noticed your blush, and it made the corner of his full lips quirk upward.

he huffed out a quiet breath in response, extending the sweater a little further towards you. "i thought maybe this would help. i don't ever really need it - illyrian blood, you know. i'm always warm. anyway, i understand if you don't want it. but i promise it's clean, and when i have worn it, it's always kept me warm. so...-," he trailed off, realizing he was rambling, full of nerves. now it was his turn for his cheeks to turn pink, and he cleared his throat, breaking the eye contact.

a wide grin spread across your cheeks as you reached forward to take the large, soft sweater from his hands. "thank you, az. really. this is perfect," you whispered shyly, holding the fabric against your chest. he smiled proudly, a dimple peeking out.

and that was that - he walked over to his preferred spot within the library, wings perked in pride. he made himself comfortable with a book of his own, and you both read in silent companionship.

tonight, you'd adorned that same sweater as you let the sound of the rain outside become the soundtrack to your escapism. out of your peripheral, one lone shadow twirled through the door of the library - your favorite little tendril. you glanced up as it approached you, swirling around your right hand as it always did in greeting. you smirked, knowing its master was not too far behind.

sure enough, in strode azriel shortly after - the rest of his shadows lazily twining around his form. his eyes found you immediately, and his steps faltered as he realized you were wearing his clothing. that dimple made another appearance as he smiled shyly, cocking an eyebrow upward.

"keeping you warm?," he asked, taking in how cozy and well, adorable you looked like that. in his clothing. reading a book in the candlelight. azriel was in trouble, and he knew it.

you nodded, sitting up straighter as you took him in. his hazel eyes were nearly glowing. "very. it's my new prized possession," you smiled, and that comment nearly made azriel's heart burst.

he hummed, quite pleased. "good. it looks like it was made for you," and he meant every word. maybe he should give you every piece of oversized, warm clothing he owned. they looked far better on you, anyway.

you looked back at the open pages of your book, smiling, trying to hide the blush creeping from your neck up to your cheeks. he noticed anyway - he noticed everything.

"how's that one?," he nodded his chin towards the book in your hand as he got comfortable in his own armchair. his wings spread behind him in a relaxed fashion.

"oh, i can't put it down," you sighed, looking up at him once more.

he hummed, glancing around at the tall spread of novels that surrounded the both of you. "i've never seen it on the shelves", he mused, brows furrowed as he studied the closed cover of your book.

you took a sip of your tea, snorting in jest after you swallowed. "probably because it's tucked away on the highest shelf in here," you huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes fondly. "i had to use a step stool, and even then, i barely reached it."

he nodded once, studying you for a moment. he looked as though he was pondering something. the moment ended quickly, his own eyes averting to the pages in the open book before him.

the next day, you'd entered the library after breakfast - as always. what surprised you is that you weren't alone like you normally were around this time.

azriel was already there, positioned in front of your favorite shelf, pulling every single romance book down from the top row.

"...az?," you questioned quietly, trying not to startle him. "what are you doing?," you stepped forward, peering up at him. his large hands held a stack of books, most of which you'd already read.

he turned towards you, cheeks quickly tinting pink. "oh, y/n," he paused for a moment, looking from the stack in his hands and up to the top shelf before meeting your eyes.

"well, you said that the books you enjoyed were too high. so.... i rearranged a couple of shelves to make sure they were at a height you could reach," he smiled bashfully.

you froze in place, taking in the entire scene before you. and sure enough, he'd already moved most of the romance novels. and beyond that, he'd also relocated them to a shelf that was right next to your favorite chair. you could literally just reach over from where you normally sat, easily plucking your next choice from the row without having to move.

you smiled widely up at him, eyes twinkling, and he swore his heart was going to swell and float right out of his chest.

"az," you breathed out, "can i hug you?," you blurted, overcome with emotion.

he huffed out a laugh, carefully setting the stack of books in his large hands down beside him. he nodded then, opening his arms for you.

you stepped into his large frame, and he stilled for a moment. he shifted to hold you tightly, and his wings twitched with the sudden urge to wrap around you too. his arms didn't feel like enough, you should be closer.

instead, he settled for moving one hand to the back of your head, cradling you against his chest. he smiled to himself, another wave of pride flowing through his chest and limbs.

he could get used to this.

tag list: @stressed-reader @vhjlucky13 @scarsandallaz @victory-salads @weirdo-fun

if you'd like to be added, pls let me know <3

#acotar #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel fluff #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel one shot #azriel drabble

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dcandmarvelimagines · 4 months ago

Text

sweeter than you ever knew. (pt. 2)

Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, Oral sex (f! recieving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, Wade breaks his nose so a bit of blood, Wade is an absolute pervert Logan is too, voyeurism, Logan puts his cigar out on his hand, Logan is also very emotionally stunted but we'll work on that Author's note: Holy shit guys?? This blew up in a way I totally didn't expect. I seriously thought this would just be something I uploaded and would get like five notes. You guys have been so sweet! Thank you so much! I hope you like this next installment. Things take a bit of a turn at the end and in the next chapter, but fear not besties, we will make it out of this and to a happy ending I swear! ao3 Tags (if you would like to be included or removed, just let me know): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o

Early that Monday, I met with my supervisor. When I explained that I was becoming attached to Al’s roommates and it would most likely affect my working relationship, he just sighed. Apparently, Al had requested that I’m her only caretaker and said she would refuse anyone else. “So keep your head on straight around them. Don’t make me regret it.”

When I walked into the apartment later that day, I knew Wade would make me fail. He instantly wrapped me in his arms, covering my face in slobbery kisses. But I was able to keep him at arm's length while I was on the clock for Al. He was allowed one kiss when I got there and nothing else. Despite his protests, he respected my boundaries. With Wade forced to behave, it allowed me to start talking to Logan more. There was some sort of tension between us that had eased. The crease between his eyebrows whenever he saw me had slowly faded. I saw him smile more often. He was surprisingly nice to be around once I got past his gruff exterior. I kept myself an open book, answering any questions he had, but he kept his life close to his chest. I didn’t expect him to spill his guts and I accepted the little crumbs he gave me. But sometimes he was broody and quiet, keeping his responses short, a distant look in his eyes.

Nevertheless, it began to grow into something more. It started off small, little touches to the back, him forcing me to sit when I had been rearranging Al’s furniture. Then it was a gift of delicious chocolate when they came back from France and a home cooked meal when I was too busy to make it myself. I found his eyes tracing my body more often, lingering in certain places. He sometimes stood just a little too close to me while I did the dishes. He wore a shirt less often and I greedily drank in his body when I could. None of this escaped Wade’s notice. I knew he was scheming.

It was a crisp autumn night when I climbed out on the fire escape to settle next to Logan. The cigar smoke was a comfort now, earthy and sweet. We sat in silence for a few moments. Sometimes that was enough for me, just to be in his presence, but not tonight. I shoved my chilly hands deep into the pockets of my jacket. I titled my head, watching his cheeks hollow around the cigar, the ash skittering across his forearm. He didn’t so much as flinch as the hot ash touched him. “Could I try?” I had tried smoking before but had just ended up coughing for a minute straight. He shook his head, watching a bike roll by.

“Last thing you need is lung cancer.” I tentatively laid my head on his shoulder. He would still sometimes jerk away like I had burned him. This time, he allowed me to sink closer, our thighs pressed against each other. I could feel the heat of him sinking through my clothes.

“Mm, it smells good though.” He takes a long drag, letting the smoke linger in his lungs before letting it out in a puff. A long moment of silence passes. We’ve been slowly circling each other for weeks, all lingering touches and heavy glances. How would he react if I finally did something? Pull away? I knew he and Wade still slept together, Al complained about it enough that I couldn’t escape it. Wade and I hadn’t really gone beyond our kisses. Despite what he called himself on my phone, I didn’t want this to be a friends with benefits situation. He seemed to know that and hadn’t pushed for more. Wade made it very clear to the both of us that he has no qualms about sharing. If anything, I think he wants Logan and I to have sex more than he wants to have sex with me.

Steeling my resolve, I rest my chin on his shoulder. “Can I try a taste?” Logan glanced down at me, that crease reappearing between his eyebrows.

“What?” His voice is dry, a touch on edge. I wanted to apologize for my flirting and run but I can’t allow myself to. My fingers trace the corner of his lip, the edge of his jaw. He turned just an inch closer to me and I’m able to take in his lined and handsome face.

“Just one taste?” It comes out breathy, barely audible. But he hears it, he always does. There’s the faintest tick at the corner of his lips like he was going to smile. “I promise to be gentle,” now that got a smirk out of him.

“You don’t scare me sweetheart,” his voice was a low rumble.

“Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?” He pressed the still burning cigar onto his palm. The smell of burning flesh floated up to me and my nose twitched at it. “Why would you-“ but the words are cut off as his unburned palm cupped the back of my neck and dragged me closer, our lips pressing together. The kiss is chaste. My eyes fall shut, a surprised gasp leaving me. His beard scratches lightly at my face as we move our heads. But then he nudges my nose, tilting his head back. “No, please,” I whispered, chasing his lips. I felt his sigh ghost across my face before he cupped both cheeks and drew me back against his mouth. I moan against him, clutching at the front of his sweatshirt, wanting him closer, craving it. Then his lips are moving against mine. My hands slide into his hair and give the strands a tug. His mouth parts on a growl and I take the opportunity to lick my way in. I can taste the tang of whiskey, the sweetness of the cigar, a hint of mint. I want to crush myself against him, to feel his body against mine, to explore his skin.

Just as I’m reaching under his sweatshirt, hungry for the feel of the torso that’s been haunting me, he withdraws. His breath still coasts across my face and my nose was full of the scent of him. My breath was ragged while his was perfectly even. Embarrassing. My eyes are slow to open. I found him only a few inches away, a smug expression on his handsome face.

“There,” he whispers, “got your taste.”

“Asshole.” Now he smiles, perfect teeth glinting in the streetlight.

“Yeah, get that in your pretty head now.” His calloused fingers tapped at my temple. “I’m not someone to get attached to.”

“Well she’s sticking around me and I’m about as much boyfriend material as sandpaper.” I jumped nearly out of my skin at the sound of Wade’s voice. Logan just smirked and circled his hands around my wrists, squeezed once to make me let go of his sweatshirt. I had half a mind to refuse, crawl into his lap and kiss every inch of skin I could find. But I let my hands fall weakly to my lap. “When you two fuck, can you record it? I’ve tried finding look-alikes on pornhub, but it’s just not the same.” I huffed, glancing down at where Wade’s head was, a spark of annoyance at him interrupting Logan and I. He’s half laying on the metal grate, his legs dangling off the couch beneath the window.

“Ain’t gonna happen dickwad.” I can hear Logan’s lighter flicking before the smell of the cigar is back. I hoped he had just meant recording and that gruff tone wasn’t for the idea of us having sex. But he let me remain close so I took that as a good sign.

“Don’t listen to him, baby bunny. Look, he literally tried killing me and we ended up fucking in the end.”

“Was still trying to kill you,” Logan growls. Wade gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like Logan actually succeeded.

“Don’t lie peanut! What’s more romantic than stabbing me in the neck? That Honda Odyssey was shaking all night.”

“I hope that’s not how you plan on being romantic with me,” I laughed, reaching down to tug at Wade’s cheek. “I can’t snap back like you two.”

“Of course not darling,” he covered my hand in sloppy kisses, sucking a hickey on my wrist. “I’ll let you stab me in the neck while you fuck me. Would never want to hurt that sexy face.”

“Ugh, get a room you two,” Logan snapped, nudging my knee with his. I glanced back at him but found his face reserved again. As much as I wanted to linger and force my time on Logan, I knew he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“We should take Mary Puppins out, yeah?” Wade nodded, wiggling free of his awkward position. The decrepit dog came bounding around the corner. She wiggled her naked butt as Wade grabbed her leash. I looked back at Logan. He was determinately ignoring me, eyes locked onto the dark apartment across the way. “I’ll probably head home once that’s done.” He nodded and brought the cigar back to his lips. “Why did you put it out on your hand?”

“Didn’t want to drop it on you. It’s a nasty burn.” There was something fleeting and tender that passed over his averted face. A little smile spread across my face.

“Thank you, you’re my hero.” I pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek, lingering just a beat too long, before I pulled away. “Goodnight Logan.” I didn’t wait for his reply, if he even intended to give one.

Wade was happy with the progress me and Logan had made.

But it wasn’t fast enough.

Which is how I found myself locked in their shared cramped bathroom, Wade’s head buried between my legs, while two of his fingers plunged inside me. My legs were shaking, my heel pressed against his shoulder to spread me open more. “Wade,” I whimpered as tears pricked my eyes. He had already drawn one orgasm from me with his rough and agile fingers before he dropped to his knees. “I c-can’t.”

“I know you can honey bun.” His breath was hot against my tender skin and I gasped. “Just one more for me, yeah?” I nodded, hips grinding against him. “There you go. You’re close again aren’t you?” I nodded again, eyes rolling back. He kitten licked across my overly sensitive clit. I knew I was making a mess of his face but he seemed to revel in it. He left a trail of sticky kisses along my bruised and bitten thigh. “Do you hear yourself? Got that WAP.” I smacked his head before pushing him deeper to keep him from running his mouth more. He latched back onto my clit, sucking harshly, and a third finger wedged into me. My back arched and I had to bite my lip hard to stay quiet. My eyes fell closed. His spare hand moved from my hip where it had been holding me.

The sudden sound of the door opening made me freeze. Al had laid down for a nap which was the only reason I allowed Wade to drag me in here. But instead I found Logan framed in the doorway. He had the look of a deer in headlights. “Now peanut,” Wade cooed, his head laid against my thigh. to look at the other man. He didn’t stop fingering me, the squelching sounds suddenly too loud. “Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop.”

“I wasn’t, you two are too fucking loud.” Logan’s nostrils were flared, heaving chest straining against his thin tank top.

“Uh huh,” Wade teased, his tongue swirling around my clit. My hand clamped over my mouth as a sob caught in my chest. “That massive tent in your pants has nothing to do with you hovering.” Logan growled, palming at himself, seemingly angry at his body. “Come on handsome, look at her.” Wade pushed my thighs farther apart, his free hand spreading me.

“Oh god,” I mumbled, embarrassment making me cover my face. I couldn’t hear Logan’s steps, he was always so light on his feet, but I could feel him examining me. The hairs at the back of my neck stood on end.

“Don’t hide from us gorgeous,” Wade chides. “Logan Ioves to watch orgasm faces. I can feel you fluttering, I know you're close.” When I don’t remove my hands, Wade sighs, the exhale of air making my hips jerk. “Come on, you can be brave for us.” I take a shaky breath and remove my hands, curling them around the edge of the counter. Wade smiled while Logan’s dialated eyes were glued to my pussy. I watched his Adam's apple bob and he shifted from one foot to the other. “Good job,” he kissed my clit, popping obscenely. “Now make a mess on my face.”

He dove back between my legs. With Logan there, Wade seemed determined to force me to come as hard and as fast as he could. His fingers drove into me with firm thrusts, tongue flicking cruelly at my clit. My leg was trembling so much it slipped from Wade’s shoulder, only to be caught by Logan. I struggled to focus on him, my vision blurry from prickling tears of overstimulation. His calloused palm traced up my ankle and calf before notching behind my knee. With my pussy covered by Wade’s head, Logan could only look at my face. I wanted him closer, to feel his mouth against mine again, that scrape of his beard. His eyes fastened to my neck, watching my erratic pulse.

“Logan,” my voice tilts up at the end, hands reaching for him. Before I was able to even breathe, just as the orgasm was rushing through me, Logan’s lips crashed against mine. I clung to him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and locking both of my shuddering legs around his waist, moaning wildly into his mouth. Wade groaned as his head was pinned between our hips and the vibrations made me cry out. Logan was kissing me like a man starved, biting at my lips, grunting like he was the one coming. A combination of our spit collected at the corner of my mouth and he licked at it hungrily. His blunt nails dug into the tender skin behind my knees as he clutched me closer. Tears streaked down my cheeks as Wade kept working me into near painful overstimulation.

Logan separated first, his forehead pressed to mine. My breath was ragged, sweat collecting along my hairline. I wanted more, to lose myself between their touches, their bodies. Wade finally stilled, his fingers still buried deep. His mouth released me and I gasped as his harsh breaths coasted across me. “You okay down there?” My voice shook. I reached down and ran my nails across his scalp.

“Broke my nose, but it’s okay.” I bolted up straight and Logan stumbled back to avoid my head cracking against his. Blood and my slick was smeared across his face, staining his white teeth as he beamed up at me. The tip of his nose was bent at an odd angle.

“I’m so sorry,” I cupped his face, panic rushing through me. “Are you okay?”

“He’s fine,” Logan said. One of his big hands braced on Wade’s head before he grabbed the broken nose with two fingers. With a pop and a grunt from Wade, the nose slid back into place. “There,” he tapped Wade’s sticky face, “good as new.”

“You’re always so nice to me,” Wade grumbled, itching the rapidly healing bump. His drenched fingers slid from me, glistening in the harsh bathroom light. Logan glanced between Wade and I, one finger twirling in the drawstring of his black sweatpants. I wish I could read his mind, be able to tell his emotions from one glance, or a touch. I wanted to understand this unsure look on his face. He almost seemed nervous to be in here now that the haze of lust had passed. He swallowed thickly before he pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“See you tomorrow sweetheart.” My arms, which were about to latch around his neck to keep him close, hung limply in the air. I blinked as he walked away, disappearing into their dark bedroom. Wade shook his head as he stood and closed the bathroom door.

“Did I do something?” I whispered, knowing Logan would hear me anyway. Wade’s hands went to my thighs, kneading at the tight muscles, leaving behind wet handprints with his right one.

“No, he’s just a fucking idiot who doesn’t think he deserves happiness. I’ve been trying to ease him into this but he’s stubborn.” He turned his head, “and he’s stupid!” I heard their bedroom door snap shut. “He’s worried he’ll scare you off. Just give him time. He’s just…just had a lot happen to him.” I nodded. “Don’t take it personally, okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“Are you two done in there?!” A cane hit the door. “She needs to read me my mail!”

Never more in my life have I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. Only compounded by Wade wiping the door open, cocking his hip to glare at his roommate. I knew she was blind, that she had completely lost vision almost twenty years ago. But that didn’t stop me from stretching my shirt down to try and cover myself, crossing my legs. “I see Miss sleepy granny pants is awake. What do you need? A diaper change?” Al scoffed, her cane clicking along the floorboards of the hallway as she moved to the kitchen. Once she was out of our sight, Wade plucked my panties from the floor.

“Why?” He shrugged, an evil glint in his eyes.

“Maybe I need to get him used to your scent, like a dog.” I rolled my eyes but bit back a hiss as he dragged the coarse material through my wet folds. “Need a lot of it I think, yeah, nice and soaked.” I shoved his hand away and he tucked my panties into his pocket. Wade helped me off the counter, his hands braced on my waist to keep me steady. My jeans had been tossed carelessly to the side and I dreaded putting them back on without the barrier of my underwear. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you wear those pesky jeans, even if they do make your ass look so good I want to rip them off you every time you wear them.” He passed through the bathroom and into his and Logan’s room. I peeked around the edge of the door frame and nearly fainted at the sight.

Logan was splayed across their dark sheets, body bare, hard cock in his hand. While the room was dim, the beams of light from the hallway were able to reach in. The shadows played over his muscles and I watched as they flexed. I wasn’t able to see his cock well, both his hand and the poor lighting limited my vision. But I was able to see a long, thick vein along the underside. My face heated at the sight of him. “Knock, asshole,” his voice was husky. The sound of him made my toes curl. If I hadn’t just had a mind melting orgasm, I would have been striding into that room, ready to do anything he wanted me to. His stomach fluttered as his strokes became more rapid.

“Here,” Wade said as he tossed my drenched panties on Logan’s face. His hips jerked, knuckles flashing white around himself. Wade searched through a drawer before pulling something from inside. “Now be good and keep those right there for when I come back.” Logan growled, removing the fabric from his face but kept it clutched in his fist. Wade blew him a kiss and a wave before closing the door again. He offered me a pair of sweatpants. I tugged them on with a mumbled thank you, having to roll the waistband down multiple times so I wasn’t swimming in them. Wade pinched my chin and our eyes locked. “I’ll get him to warm up, promise.” I nodded. “Now go take care of Miss Migoo. Remember to text me when you get home.”

“Of course,” I stood on my toes to kiss his healed nose. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry babykins. If it makes you feel better, I was near suffocation. So a busted nose was the best case scenario.” He laughed at my horrified expression. “Hey, I’d much rather die from pussy smothering than my heart being ripped out.”

“You know, that doesn’t make me feel much better.” He smirked and drew me closer, his lips connecting with mine. I could taste the tang of me coating him. But I pulled back first. I needed to keep my head on straight for the last hour of my time with Al. “Keep it down with him, please? It’ll be too distracting.” His expression turned wicked.

“Trust me, I have a way I’ll shut him up.” His hands coasted down my hips, grabbing a handful of my ass. “I’ll send pictures of what happens to your cute little panties once we’re done with them.” My face flushed and I pressed my hands to his chest.

“God, you’re such a pervert.”

“Mhm, you like it though.”

“Will you two stop! My vision isn’t coming back anytime soon.” We reluctantly broke apart. Wade slipped into the bedroom. I was only able to catch a brief glimpse of Logan’s back arched, heels dug deep into the mattress, before my sight was cut off. I grabbed my discarded jeans and stuffed them into the tote bag I had brought with me. The last bit of my shift ended in mostly silence, minus the occasional creak of the bed frame from the guy’s bedroom. I helped Al sign a few checks, read through her mail, and took out Mary Puppins. I said my good night and left the apartment. My mind conjured up thoughts on what could be happening behind that closed door all the way home on the train. Wade, clad only in my stolen underwear, bouncing on Logan. My panties stuffed into Logan’s mouth as Wade pounds him from behind. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop my imagination from getting too wild. It wouldn’t help anything to get turned on now.

If my mind hadn’t been so filled with dirty thoughts, I would have noticed the man watching me from the other end of the train car.

I made it to my apartment. The key fob scanner was broken again. “Advanced security my ass,” I groaned, trudging up to my apartment. It was Friday and I felt like ordering something in. I knew I shouldn’t, the delivery fees were astronomical, but I just wanted to relax. After placing my pizza order, I grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and a shirt stolen from Logan by Wade, then gifted to me. It always felt illegal to wear it, but it was easily the softest shirt I had. His scent lingered on it and it always soothed me. I had around an hour before my pizza was going to arrive. I made a little nest for myself on the couch and tucked in to watch some mindless reality tv.

A knock woke me up. At first I was confused, rubbing at my eyes and looking around to locate the sound. Then my mind caught up. “Oh shit,” I mumbled, scrambling to the door as the poor delivery guy knocked again. “Sorry! Sorry!” I called. I unlocked the door and swung it open.

I froze.

A man, with no pizza box, stood before me. “Um, can I help you?” The man had ice chips for eyes, cold and lifeless. A tattoo peaked above his collar. He took me in, tracing each inch of me. I felt my skin break out in goosebumps at the cold calculation on his face. My arms curled over my chest, hiding it from him. “Can I help you?” My tone was stronger, a small snap to it. That horrible gaze found mine again. Then he said my full name. Fear oozed through me.

I heard something from my bedroom, a little thump, but was too terrified to look away from the man in front of me. “Get the fuck out of here,” but the words lacked conviction, a slight tremble to them. “I don’t know who you are. Leave or I’m calling the cops.”

“Why wouldn’t you call your boyfriends?” My heart stuttered in my chest.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” I heard the creak of my floorboard. I cast a wild glance behind me and found a wall of a man emerging from my bedroom. I went to scream but the man at my door latched his hand around my mouth. I kicked and thrashed, biting wildly. He didn’t react. There was a pinch in my neck.

My elbows tried to find his face, but he was able to easily deflect them. The man in my apartment was searching for something. My eyes were blurring, limbs turned to lead. I saw him hold my phone up.

Then I slumped to the ground.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months ago

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june 2024 octa + 4koma manga updates

As a reminder, no Episode of Savanaclaw manga chapter this month ^^ And without further ado, some of the highlights (in my opinion) of the latest manga updates:

This month's cover page illustration features Yuuta and Grim marveling over a chess board (since at this point in the story they're camping out in Savanaclaw). If you look closely, each of the pieces on the chessboard represent the relevant TWST characters; there are two card soldiers (presumably one for Ace and one for Deuce), a wolf for Jack, a hyena for Ruggie, and a lion for Leona on the "white" side. On the opposing "black" side (fitting, since Azul will OB soon) are two eel pieces for the twins and one octopus piece for Azul.

We continue the adorable overly flattering Ace from last month's chapter! Sad to say that I, too, would be completely fooled by this act-- asbfalebqejdqo The older merguard is also very cute and enthusiastic. I love that the manga can give faceless NPCs and mobs actual eyes. It grants them a lot more personality and soul! We continue the adorable overly flattering Ace from last month's chapter! Sad to say that I, too, would be completely fooled by this act-- asbfalebqejdqo The older merguard is also very cute and enthusiastic. I love that the manga can give faceless NPCs and mobs actual eyes. It grants them a lot more personality and soul!

HECK YEAH, IT'S TWEELS tERRORISM TIME BBABY 🤡 Jade and Floyd got sooo many good shots this chapter????? Love that the second page above shows us just how long Floyd is + how the two genuinely delight in scaring our crew (RIP Ace, he looks so close to death's door when he seeks Jade and Floyd peeking at him).

These panels paint the picture of the chase and fight being very frantic for our crew, but really being a chill game to the Leech brothers. They definitely have the upper hand this whole time, and the art helps to convey that feeling!

(Side note: that face Deuce makes with the pinched mouth is also top tier 👌)

So this chapter is the one where Leona swipes the keys to Azul's vault and robs him of all the golden contracts. This results in many, MANY distressed, panicked, and/or desperate expressions from Azul... all of which are soooo delicious <3 There's a ton more than what I've included here (I picked some of my faves), I just couldn't include them all because of Tumblr post image limits.

THE SMUGZUL LAUGH?????? ?? ??? ?? ?????? ? HIS ANSWER TO THE OJOUSAMA LAUGH

Featuring: out-of-shape nerd (relatable) Azul fans fr feasting this update 🙏

RUGGIIIIIIE 🥰 He makes a lot of :3 faces that are just great!!

ANOTHER THING THAT CAUGHT MY ATTENTION WAS THE SHEER AMOUNT OF LEONA SMUG IN THIS CHAPTER I MEAN SEEING LEONA SMUG MAKES ME GRIT MY TEETH AND WANNA KNOCK HIM DOWN A PEG BUT WOW IS HE PRETTY LIKE THIS AUVYFB32T73RANfhbabfobiqrBI/.L;,'KJM;N GGRRRRRRRRRRRRRR I HAT EYOU KINHSCHPLAR I HATE YOU SO MUCH i'm gONA PUNCHHF YOU IN YOUR STUPID SLUTTY ,.,NAFCLAVICLE

anyway Anyway ANYWAY!!!!!! Azul is so close to snapping now, boys :)))) Soon... SOON, OB AZUL AND CHILD!OCTAVINELLE IN HIS FLASHBACK...

Now for 4koma news! This month features a comic about Epel playing Magift/Spelldrive and another comic about Jamil cooking curry.

My favorite segment from the Epel comic! Grim is peak cuteness here, love that he curls into himself to brace for impact, INCLUDING THE FRIGGIN TAIL.

HLBQVUFOQVIYFA; This part made me think of my Gordon Ramsay in Twisted Wonderland series, specifically the fish-themed installment with Jamil and Deuce; in it, Jamil plots on making a seafood dish to serve to Azul as revenge for the events of book 4. In the Jamil 4koma this month, Jamil sees Octavinelle and then considers making a seafood/fish curry with that smug-ass face in the bottom-most panel 💀 That's all for now! See you next month for more~

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nipuni · 20 days ago

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Hello time to yap about life and media again! 🥰

It's been a month and a half since we fully moved into this new old house and it's been a steep learning curve!! so far we had to learn how to care for a garden and grow fruit, how to deal with extremely humid weather, the mold!! also learning about various repairs, electricity and plumbing, we had a leak that turned one lamp into a waterfall, the rcd keeps tripping every time it rains, had to fix a door in the dark after Nicolas got himself trapped in a room when the handle broke during a power outage, the heating system is an air to water heat pump and it took us ages to figure out how to set it up correctly so we spent weeks wearing 3 layers inside the house, I even fell down the stairs!! I'm not used to having stairs inside the house lmao It's a big adjustment when you've always lived in small apartments in big cities all your adult life, but to be honest we love it!! everything feels like a new quest for us to tackle and it is so much fun figuring it all out as we go, reading technical manuals by candle light, the teamwork of installing and assembling furniture and networks, pruning the trees, celebrating every small mundane accomplishment and new skill learned every night over dinner, I may be corny as hell but it all feels like a privilege and an adventure 😭

Media wise we watched the second season of Arcane! This series never fails to make me fall in love with art again, not that I've ever fallen out but I can't say that the whole AI debacle hasn't been ass for the morale. Aesthetically it is a masterpiece. The character design, the cinematography, the mixed media montages aaaa Seeing the work, the skill and care that was put into every frame reminded me of how important and human the storytelling aspect of art really is. I wonder if we will see a shift to the more story driven or conceptual arts when we look back on this period, but I ramble, back to Arcane. I have mostly praise for it, wonderful characters and very touching relationships. I think our only issues were with the pacing being too slow at the start, every character climbing out of a very low point, and then too fast which made the second half feel a bit rushed. This season also felt a bit more tropey than the first one but still really solid. It remains one of the best animated series ever made and I am so happy to see it succeed in this current environment 😭 It feels like teenagehood condensed into a show, we really enjoyed it. I hope we get a season 3!!

Also there was an update in our David Tennant filmography quest! we watched The Politician's Husband and unsurprisingly we loved it!! It was gripping and the acting was brilliant. It is actually what I was expecting Rivals to be like, I realize 🤔 I think it could have used a 4th episode, felt like it ended too quickly and there was room for more, as if they ran out of time to tie things up so they picked the quickest route. But it was really good!! These miniseries are always so engaging and so short, I need mooreee.

We missed our DT nights!! Nicolas spent the last week hunting for more of David's work for us to watch. We've been hosting family for a few days again last week and on top of work and everything else we had to pause them for a bit. But now we are back to our nightly routine and he's over the moon!! Instant mood boost it's embarrassing lmao both of us falling this hard for this guy is too enabling, he even made his name our guest wifi password, we are besotted 😂

Oh! I also I saw a Veilguard Q&A was happening and read a few replies I saw posted here, and it proved to be a huge mistake! It was a disappointing and truly infuriating read. What even happened during the production of this game lmao How come the average fan seems to have a much better grasp on the lore, characters and plot than the people who made it 😭 There is this gaping disconnect between intent and execution. The way that fans are trying to make sense and give meaning to the complete mess that is the writing in an attempt to salvage and preserve the aspects they loved about it is saddening. I am mentally throwing tomatoes at John Epler as we speak. His answers felt so unserious and baffling at best and offensive and petty at worst. It's been eye opening, I could go on a two hour rant but the more I learn and dwell on it the more bitter I become about it all and I'm already seeing ten year old discourse resurface and people getting weird about it so I'll just ..🚶‍♀️ In my eyes this world and it's characters now belong only to those who love it and lives in my memory 🫡

Anyway, this ended up being at least twice as long as I was planning to make it again 😭 and I still have to catch up with asks aaaa it's been a busy month sorry I'll get to them soon!! Thank you for reading and for the support and for just being here!! I hope you all have a great week 🥺❤️

#nips blogs #personal #that being said! it's just a game lmao please hold on to perspective

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luvyeni · 7 months ago

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THE DEMON IN MY CLOSET • SIM JAEYUN

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ demon!jaeyun wc. 6.1k+

𓄷 warnings... smut mdni. mentions of abuse. mentions of death. oral (f. receiving). unprotected sex. softdom jake.

nia's notes: here's the first installment of the series, i hope you guys enjoy it 🖤 you sunghoon's is next .

lucifer masterlist | sunghoon

You were taken from me…

So pray for me and I'll burn for you …

A week inside this house; and things have been interesting to say the least— no your grandmother hasn't come back to haunt you yet; but the house does seem colder, like cold enough for you to walk around in your sweater all the time; you even tried to turn the thermostat up, but that did nothing.

Then it was the damn lights; you knew it was an old house; but that didn't stop you from tensing up in fear whenever the lights would flicker when you would walk down the hall, almost like the lights would follow you with every step; it felt like someone was there, controlling them, watching you, timing your steps with the lights— it creeped you the fuck out.

And you can't forget your closet door; the door that refused to close no matter what; well no refused to stay closed. you chalked it up to the door being broken so it wouldn't stay closed; just pushing a shoe in front of it when you sleep to keep yourself sane in the darkness.

Besides those things everything else was fine, you had gotten rid of mostly everything out of the house, the wifi guy coming to set up the internet— which took you all day to your demise, having 5 random men in the house while you basically just stood there awkwardly.

On a better note; you had to go back into the town for groceries, where you met huening kai; a cute boy who worked as a cashier in the supermarket— so you did find yourself going to that grocery store 3 more times that week; having enough groceries to last you a while.

“He's super cute.” you threw the keys to the house on the counter, placing the new set of groceries on the table. “yeah he must be, you're gonna go broke.” Yeji said over facetime, you laughed while opening the fridge to put the food up. “you’re laughing, I'm serious; in this economy you're spending money on groceries you don't need.” she said. “Well I mean you practically are rich now, so I guess it doesn't matter to you.”

“No, my parents are rich now, and that's only because my grandmother was Lucifer's wife in her past life and—” You heard a snicker, which made you freeze. “The hell?” You said, putting your 3rd bottle of milk into the fridge. “What is it?” You heard Yeji's voice through the phone. “It sounded like I heard someone just laugh.” You closed the door to the fridge. “Lord you're going crazy up there baby, hearing voices.”

“Not voices, a chuckle.” You said , walking to your room. “Girl that's scarier I fear.” and like clockwork, the damn closest door was wide open again. “This fucking door.” You slammed it shut. “What's with the door?” You sighed , fiddling with the necklace. “I close it and it's open, I even put a shoe, the shoe must not be strong enough.” You said. “Or you have a ghost.” She said, gasping. “Maybe it's your grandma, you should get an ouija board.” she said. “Should I?” You teased, clearly the “wind” didn't like that because your door to the closet creaked open.

“Sorry the monster in my closet doesn't agree with that.” You joked around, getting up, closing the door, putting a book in front of it. “Just a suggestion.” Yeji shrugged, your hand going back to that necklace. “Girl you are obsessed with that damn necklace.” She said, “You've touched it like 20 times since we've been on the phone.” You looked down on the necklace. “I don't know, I'm addicted to it, it's so pretty.” you said. “It is, it's giving vintage in the best way, where'd you get it?”

“It was my grandmothers I guess. I found it sitting in a jewelry box while cleaning out her room.” You explained. “It was the only thing in there.” you said. “Cute, probably from the 1600s, you know when your grandmother was born.” You rolled your eyes. “She was 85.” She shrugged. “Ask your mom, it looks expensive, maybe a family heirloom.”

“I did, she said, growing up, her grandmother never mentioned a family heirloom, she didn't even talk to her family.” You said, shrugging it off. “Whatever it is, or wherever it came from I'm glad I found it before my mom did , then it would've gone to my 17 year old cousin, who probably would've pawned it.”

“I have to go now girl, I've got a date.” Yeji said after about another hour of talking. “Good for you.” you said with a little bit of jealousy. “Hey you still have the cute grocery boy.” You sighed. “Yeah, who lives in the town 30 minutes away.” you said. “Hey, I guess you have to go buy more milk.” She heard her laugh, you scoffed. “Oh haha I hope your date fucks you tonight and doesn't let you finish.” You heard her gasp, hanging up laughing.

You found yourself in the kitchen cooking yourself some dinner; why let the groceries go to waste? sitting the food down on the table, you could've taken it to your room , but the closet thing crept back up on you, scaring you— you know you could change rooms; it wasn't like the house was lacking space, but you couldn't be bothered to move your things, you weren't staying there for long anyway.

Finishing your food, you put the plate in the sink, ready to go back to your room— laughing when a message from Yeji calling you bitch because her date sucked. You were almost to your room, when you heard a noise. No, a crash coming from your bedroom. You freeze right in your spot; that wasn't a figment of your imagination— that was actually coming from your bedroom— the noise was coming from your bedroom.

Now the rational side of your brain was yelling at you to run like hell and then call the damn police like a smart person, but your feet clear wanted to die because you found yourself creeping back to the room, slowly opening the door, it was eerily silent and it felt even colder than usual— and then you noticed it; the closet door was open, the door you knew you closed; and the book you had put in front of the closet? it was across the room.

Was there a person in this house? the police station was 30 minutes out, if you were to call them, you'd be dead by time they got here and that's even if you get a chance to call them— and that's even worse because no one would even bother to come check the house, you didn't know huening kai well enough for him to care about you, and every know that's the former lady of the house died; so by time your dead body would be found, it would most likely be by your parents and it would be all decomposed.

You were freaking out now mentally, scared to move in case a person was in your closet— then you didn't hear anything; surely if someone was in there they would've come out already. You stand up straight , goosebumps all over your arms as you go up to the closet, swinging it open— and nothing; it was nothing in there. You didn't dream it , it wasn't all in your head, you heard the crash, anyone would've heard it.

Swinging the closet door fully open, looking around inside, there was nothing in there but your clothes, and your shoes— your shoes that you put neatly on the inside, now all over the floor; you weren't staying in here another night— you'd drive the 30 minutes into the town of you had to, slamming the the closet door closed. “I got to get the hell out of here.” You whipped around to run out the room.

“Don't go.” A voice that damn sure didn't come out of you spoke. “Please don't go, he'll be mad at me if you do.” there he was sitting on your bed, the jewelry box that was sitting on your nightstand in his hand. “Wait please.” your eyes widened, your mouth open ready to scream. “Don't scream.” he said, jumping up covering your mouth. “This isn't going well, please don't scream.”

He was touching you, looking you dead in your eyes begging you not to scream. “I'm gonna let go now, please don't scream, I'm not here to hurt you .” You nodded, and he slowly let his hand uncover your mouth, putting them by his side. “See, I'm not gonna hurt you.” the boy said, you forced yourself to speak. “wh-who— I have money in my bag, it's over there, please just take it.” he was now confused. “I-i have jewelry too , the lady here had a bunch, it's all real.”

You went to take all the jewelry you were wearing off as well reaching for the necklace sitting on your necklace, so ready to give him anything so he'd just leave you. “Wait, no don't take that off!” He stood up , making you step back, trying to run out. “If you take that off , it might complicate things.”

“W-what?” you took another step back, him following forward. “wh-who are you?” He smiled like he wasn't in your room unwanted. “Im jaeyun.” He introduced himself. “But you can call me Jake, all my friends call me jake.” Friends? He was an intruder. “I'm not an intruder, I live here.” He said— you didn't say that out loud. “I-i won't call the cops, please just leave.”

“I live here, why would I leave?” He seemed confused. “No, m-my grandmother lived here,” he nodded. “So did I.” He said matter of factly. “I lived here longer than her actually.” he said, the door closing behind you making you jump. “I see you backing up, I told you I'm not gonna hurt you.” Your bottom lip trembled in fear. “You did that?!” You said. “Wh-what are you? a ghost?”

He laughed. “No, of course not.” He said. “I'm a demon.” You were going crazy? No , you were dreaming, this was just a weird nightmare. “You're not dreaming, I'm not that kind of demon.” He said. “You-you’re reading my mind, you're closing doors.” he nodded, “you're a demon?” He repeated the head movements. “I'm gonna pass out.”

“Please don't, I'll be in trouble if you get hurt.” He said. “Please i just wanted to talk to you, I've been watching you since you moved in, I was the one who sat the necklace out for you to find, even though that's against the rules; you're actually supposed to find it yourself, but things were different this time.”

“W-what do you want?” you said , he stepped forward once more; and you moved back in reflex. “I wanted to meet you.” He looked like he seemed to know you very well. “meet me? why?” He went silent, like he was trying to find out what to say; he couldn't just say what he wanted right now, you're already freaked out. “you're pretty, I guess that's why.”

“Look there's no need to be scared , okay?” He said. “I'm not gonna hurt you I promise.” He said. “None of us really want to hurt you.” None of us? “There's more of you?” You said. “Shit I can't say more okay, please just know we won't hurt you? Okay?” Before you could do anything else, he reached up , holding the pendent in his hand. “You won't be harmed.” and that's it- he was gone, he disappeared with a blink of an eye; like he never existed.

Like hell you were going to sleep to night, you didn't even bother to turn the light; you will still trying to convince yourself it was just weird freaky dream and you’d wake up from, but when the damn sum started to rise, you finally had to come to the crazy unbelievable conclusion— he was real, there was a demon in this house; you also had to admit your mom was somewhat right about the house being haunted.

you knocked out right then and there, the boy from the night before was there again, he wasn't saying anything though, just staring at you— smiling at you, but it wasn't the puppy like smile he sported last night , it was a sinister one, and his cute brown eyes; they now were red and glowy, what you expect a real demon to look like; but he said he could go into your dream? “He did? little jakey is a liar now.”

You shot up, breathing heavily; clutching your chest. “What the hell?” you tried to catch your breath. “What the hell was that?” safe to say you'll probably never sleep again as long as you're in this house.

Dragging your body out of bed; your shower was quick, scared that someone was watching you, making sure to wrap yourself in a towel, basically running back to your room, closing the door to get dressed— peeking out the door to see if he was out there. When you didn't see him , you stepped outside, creeping down the hallway. “What are you doing?”

You yelped, spinning around; he stood there. “oh I'm sorry.” he said. “I didn't mean to scare you.” He reached out , but you stepped back. “I told you I wasn't gonna hurt you.” He said. “How can I trust you, not when you lied to me?” You said, he tilted his head. “You can come into my dreams.” His eyes widened. “Who told you that?” He said. “So you can?” He was silent. “Can you?” You repeated. “Well yeah but I didn't go into your dreams yesterday.”

“But you have.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It was the third night after you found the necklace.” He said. “You um, it was uh.” His ears were turning red, you understood what he meant. “I hid in the closet.” He said. “So you're a pervert?” He shook his head. “No, I didn't go into them anymore I swear.” he was a demon; how could you trust a demon. “That's understandable, who'd be crazy enough to trust a demon?”

“If you want me to even attempt to trust you, stay outta my mind.” you said, he held his hand up, putting it to his chest. “I swear.” He said, you nodded. “Fine.” You said. “But I have questions.”

“I reckon you don't eat eggs?” You said. “I don't eat anything, I don't need to.” He said, you nodded. “Of course you don't.” You sat down at the table. “Sit down, you're standing is creeping me out.” he smiled sitting down. “So ask me anything, I can answer everything you want.”

“Who the hell was in my dreams last night?” It was his turn to tense up. “I can't exactly tell you why he was in the dream, but that was sunghoon, you can only see him in in dreams for now?” He said. “and why is that?” He chewed his bottom of his lip. “because he doesn't want to see you yet.” You heard him whisper under his breath. “Is he dangerous?” You said. “Well no , not exactly.” You stopped chewing your food. “what does that mean?” You questioned. “He won't hurt you.” He said. “Hopefully.”

“What does any of this have to do with this necklace?” You said. “Well I actually don't know too much about that either.” He said, you scoffed. “what do you know?” You said. “Well that necklace is why I'm here today, well that and because I want you to see me.” You perked up. “So without the necklace I wouldn't be able to see you?” he nodded. “Not exactly, anyone could see us if we wanted them to, we're bonded with the necklace, and now that you've worn it, we're bonded with you.”

“You keep saying we, are you talking about the one who was in my dream?” he nodded. “no not sunghoon, jay.” He answered. “You can't see him either?”

“He doesn't want to see me?” He shrugged. “He just likes to observe most times.” He explained. “He's been here the longest so I understand, he doesn't adjust well to people who have the necklace.” he frowned. “Bunch of bad experiences.” You held your head. “You okay?” He asked, concerned. “It's all too much , I feel like my head is gonna explode.”

He wants to reach over the table and grab your hand, he almost is compelled to; but he doesn't want to scare you even more , so he just sits in silence, letting you come to terms with everyone. “Look.” He was the first to speak up. “I get this is a lot to take in, so I'll give you some space.” He said. “When you're ready, just call for me.” Before leaving he said one more than. “Any time you call for me I'll be there, just like before.”

You don't call for him for the next few days, trying to just wrap your head around everything he told you— which wasn't much, but before moving here you believed there was no such thing as demons, so it was a lot for you. You tried to call your mom, but what you tell her; the house has demons; but only you can see them, but you can only see one because one is too traumatized for some reason to show himself; and the other doesn't want to see you and may or may not want to kill you— that would get you locked away in a padded room.

You tried to talk to Yeji the best way you could, but of course she thought you were just having nightmares— you wish it was just a nightmare that you were having. You even walked around the house, trying to find something; anything to make some sense of it; maybe Jake was useful, at least he cured your boredom. “You're not gonna find anything.”

You turned around, glaring. “I didn't call you.” He nodded. “not with your mouth no, but you did say my name.” He said, pointing to his head. “What did I say?” you said. “I'm sorry.” He said. “I just really wanted to see you, it's been 4 days, I missed you.” You smiled, he was kinda cute for a being that was probably centuries years old. “How old are you?”

“Well me i've only been here 100 years.” he said like it was normal. “I told you I've been here for a while.” you nodded. “Yeah a long time.” He laughed. “Not as long as my brothers , but long enough.” He said. “Did you know my grandmother?” He looked uncomfortable. “Your grandma was a scary woman.” He shifted in his seat. “What do you mean by that?” You asked , he shook his head. “It's not my story to tell, just know she wasn't a nice person, and I've met my fair share of not nice people.”

What did she do that had this century old demon so scared? “Well I didn't know her, she and my mom never got along.” You said. “Oh I know, we listened to them argue all the time, I was happy when your mom left , she didn't have to endure the abuse your grandmother put her through. He frowned. “Abuse?” you never heard about any abuse from your mother. “Oh she never told you?” You shook your head no. “Your grandmother was cruel to her , hitting and yelling at her; she would even lock your mom in a closet when she'd misbehave; your grandfather tried to stop it but your grandma, she was evil to everyone.”

That made you angry; all those years you spent telling your mom that she probably wasn't that bad, and that they just needed to make up— you felt sad because your mom couldn't tell you. Jake saw your face drop, he grabbed your hand. “But I know you aren't like that, I can tell you're different.” He said. “I believe we've bonded with the perfect person.”

He was so sweet; how could someone like him be a demon. “You don't seem like someone who'd be a bad person in life , how did you become a demon?” He looked down at the table. “Did I say something wrong?” He shook his no. “Of course not.” He toyed with his fingers. “I won't lie and say there are bad demons; of course there are,” he said. “But some of us made decisions; did things that made us like this.” He said. “And what did you do?”

“I sold my soul.” He started, “I sold my soul for the person I love.” You sat back in the seat. “So you were a human?” He nodded, smiling. “It was a lot different from today when I was a human, but I've learned to adjust throughout the time periods.” He explained. “I was tricked.” He said, “Her name was Grace, she was the love of my life, I knew I was gonna spend the rest of my natural human life with her.” his smile dropped. “But she got sick; really sick and she was gonna die, and I couldn't have that, I needed her, I felt like I couldn't breathe with her.”

He looked so broken retelling the story. “He feeds off of vulnerability, he felt how desperate I was; he came to me when she was days away from death; he said your life for hers— I should've read the fine print I guess.” He chuckled. “I thought he'd kill me right then and there, but no he'd said he'd be back.” He said. “He came back a few years later, I died of the same sickness she did, ironic huh?” You didn't know if you should laugh, so you just nodded. “I watched her grieve, and I watched her grow old; she got remarried again, and had children— then I watched her die.” He said. “Then he sent me here, and I saw again— my grace; except her name wasn't Grace, it was Laura, but she had her soul, she found the necklace; but she didn't remember me, I tried to explain it to her but she didn't believe it.” He said. “Then I realized my punishment; I have to watch her die; I have to watch her soul die over and over.” He said looking back up at you. “That's why I feel so drawn to you; you have her soul.”

“M-me?” He nodded. “Don't be frightened I know it's weird.” He said. “I didn't believe in reincarnation either; until this.” He said; you didn't believe it either, but given the situation; you don't know what to believe anymore— he was literally telling you that you have the soul of his dead girlfriend from over 100 years ago. “Please tell me you believe me?”

“It sure is a lot to take in.” You started. “But I don't believe you'd tell me this if it wasn't true.” He perked up with a smile. “Really, you believe me?” He said, you slowly nodded. “I guess I do.” You said. “Wow , they don't normally believe me, and years go by and they all get married or live good lives and soon they forget about the necklace and put it back then the bond is broken and they don't even think about us.”

“Are all your stories like that?” He shook his head. “No, we've all different stories, different reasons we ended up like this.” He said. “Mistakes we've made.”

He stayed around longer , telling you everything he could about himself; you even told him about stuff in your life; how you recently graduated from college and plan to start work at a company after the summer. “So that means you'll leave soon?” You questioned. “Will you keep the necklace?” He asked. “When you take the necklace off you break the bond between us.” He said; you hadn't even thought about it yet; how would this even work in the city? you can't even explain this to anybody. “I don't know, but it's a little early to answer that.” You saw him frown. “Don't get too upset though, okay nothing is set in stone yet.” You reassured , he smiled. “Okay.”

You eventually fell asleep, exhausted from the day. Jake sat at the end of the bed; just watching you, the air entering and leaving your body, lightly snoring; you were so pretty; he could feel graces soul in you, but it also felt like something new, you were a breath a fresh air— he'd only known you for a few days , but he'd been watching you since the first day you got here, he liked you. “stop staring at her, you look like a creep.”

He looked up where he stood. “why'd you go in her dream?” The boy shrugged. “Fun, seeing her scared; why'd you lie , didn't want her to know you were creeping on her in her dreams” Jake stood up. “Let's go, Jay is probably waiting.” He looked back at you, where you were sleeping comfortably— he smiled.

This gradually progressed after he told you his life story; you actually started to call out to him more, letting him be around you and getting to know what he was like now; as a demon and all, you showed him all your favorite shows, he said he was still able to leave the house so he was caught up— they all were they just chose to stay up here in the house. “Plus it would be hard explaining to elderly folks in this town why they were still the same age from when they were young.” and that you understood.

Sitting on the couch one day; watching lucifer— it was his request. “This is a great depiction of him really, the actor in this is much more handsome though.” You turn to him. “Of course Lucifer in real life is much more terrifying and has absolutely no feelings.” He said his personality was so human-like , it was like he wasn't even a demon. “you don't really act like a demon.” You said. “Sure I could be angry about my situation and turn evil, but it's hard to be mad when I did this to myself.” He said. “I sold my soul to the devil.” He shrugged it off.

“Do you ever regret it?” He nodded. “It's not easy grieving the loss of someone you loved over and over and they don't even remember you.” he said. “And keeping up with the trends of course , I mean sometimes I would rather be dead than listen to anything these kids talk about today.” You giggled. “What?” He said. “You say these kids , with the most youthful looking face, it's funny.” he laughed, pouting. “Hey I'm at least 122 years older than you.” That made you laugh even harder. “That doesn't help at all.”

“Hey, stop laughing.” He smiled. “Stop it right now.” You couldn't. “So you won't stop.” before you could react, he was on top of you. “So keep laughing.” He began to tickle your sides , Jake laughed as you began to gasp for air. “Jake, stop it.” you shouted. “Okay , okay I'll stop.” You said , throwing your hands up in defense. “I'm done.”

“You're gonna stop?” You nodded. “I swear.” He took away his hands from your side; but he was still on top of you, basically straddling you, looking down at you. “That wasn't fa—” his lips were on before you could finish the sentence, your eyes widened as he quickly pulled back. “shit I'm so sorry.” he cursed at himself. “It's okay.” You tried to calm him down. “It's not a bi—” before you could even finish, he was gone. “jake?” You called him, then you called him again; then again— but he never came.

He didn't come for another 4 days, and those days felt like torture; you roamed the halls just calling out for his name— desperate you know, but that's what you were, desperate. You missed his company. You missed him; to the point you'd wish he'd show up in your closet again.

“You can call more, living your life in seclusion can't be healthy.” Yeji said. “it's not total seclusion.” You said, wondering the halls like you found yourself doing. “the grocery boy doesn't count.” You rolled your eyes. “I'm not talking about him either.” You were referring to the demon who managed to make you go insane without his presence— maybe that's his evil. “Well unless you got a pet then I'm not sure what you're talking about.”

“It's nothing, just saying nonsense.” You said. “Maybe I should come up there and visit you.�� She said, “No you don't have to, I don't want to ruin your summer.” You said, also you didn't want her to find out about any of this. “Enjoy your summer fun and I'll see you soon back in the city.” She hummed. “Well make sure you eat enough food okay?” She said, “And try to socialize.” she said before hanging up.

You went back to your room, calling his name once more; but you knew he wasn't gonna answer. “I'm here.” You shot up, hearing that voice you've missed for the past 4 days. “Jake.” He sat down on the bed. “You said if I call you'd answer.” You frowned. “I know.” He looked down. “Why'd you leave like that?” He didn't say anything, and it just made you angry. “If you're just gonna stand there and not say anything, then go back to wherever you came from.”

“You don't mean that.” He said. “And how do you figure?” You questioned your eyebrow lifting. “Because you've called out for me for the past four days.” He started. “And I read your mind.” You glared at him. “Fine I'm sorry.” He said. “I didn't mean to leave you alone , I really didn't mean to hurt you y/n , you gotta believe me.”

“Well you did, you ran away.” You said. “and I'm sorry, I was just scared.” He said. “Scared that you'd get scared and take the necklace off, try and break the bond.” He said. “I shouldn't have kissed you , I know it was wrong , but please don't hate me.” He was rambling. “I didn't hate the kiss.” He stopped. “You didn't?”

“You would've known that had you not run away like a coward.” He nodded , you were rightfully upset— and you genuinely wanted to be pissed at him, but you couldn't, that's how much you missed him. “y/n , look—” before he could say anything , you practically threw yourself into his lap , kissing him. “You mmph missed me that much.” He said in between kisses. “Shut up.”

You grabbed his face, his hands wrapping around your waist, basically lifting you up as your lips danced against each other. “Fuck I love this so much.” He groaned , laying you down on the bed; his body hovering over yours , grinding his hips against yours, you felt his cock pressing against your clothed cunt. “Wanted to do this since the first day you walked through those doors.” His hands caressed your face, slowly making his way down your body; your body reacting to his touches. “J-jake.” You whimpered. “Need you so much Jake.”

He began to attack your neck with kisses, his hands working on your shorts; unbuttoning them, kissing down your stomach. “Do you want this?” he questioned, you nodded. “words darling, I need words.” You moaned as he pulled down your shorts. “Please Jake , it hurts so bad” you were so needy, not having a time to pleasure yourself; well that and the fact you didn't feel comfortable knowing there were three demons in the house who could see you.

he threw your shorts somewhere, his eyes full of need as he turned back to you. “So pretty.” He ran up your clothed slit. “So wet.” you let out a moan as he kissed your cunt. “T-take them off.” Your hands tugged at his roots. “Fuck okay.” He groaned, the sensation from you pulling on his roots , making his cock twitch, pulling your panties down.

He finally got rid of your panties, leaving you bare waist down. “Fuck you're dripping.” He kissed the inside of your thighs, “smell so good.” He licked your folds. “Sh-shit.” Getting a taste of your sweet cunt, sent the demon into a frenzy, desperate to taste you more. “Fuck Jake!” He held your thighs open as he sucked on your clit.

He continued the assault on your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit , you felt your orgasm reaching and fast. “Fuck Jake fu-fuck I'm not gonna last.” You moaned. “I'm cumming!” You screamed, yanked at his hair harder as you came, your legs shaking as he ate you out through your orgasm, taking in everything you had to offer him. “shit.”

He forced himself away before he made you cum in his mouth over and over; plus his cock was so hard, he felt like he was gonna burst if he did fuck you. “You're so fucking addicting.” He cursed , his body hovering over yours. “Need to fuck you.” He groaned , palming himself. “Please.”

You reached in between your bodies , unbuckling his pants. “Please fuck me.” You pushed his pants down , he stood up , fully taking them off; climbing back into the bed , freeing his cock from his underwear. “You want my cock?” He moaned , rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. “Want me to fill this pussy?” You nodded moaning his name. “Please jake , please fuck me.”

He wasted no time , pushing his cock into you, both of you moaning out in pleasure; rocking his hip slowly , letting his cock drag along your walls. “Oh fuck , you're so fucking tight.” He groaned , his hand coming up to your boobs , squeezing it; your hips bucked up , matching the roll of his hips. “You feel so good.” Your nails clawing down his back. “Fuck if you that I'm gonna cum.”

His thrust began to become less coordinated , his abdomen tightening. “I’m gonna cum.” He whimpered against your lips. “M-me too.” His hands came in between your legs , rubbing your clit. “Cum for me baby , cum all over my cock.” Your legs stiffened , your back arching as you came. “that's it , keep cumming on my dick— shit I'm gonna cum.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head , the band snapping in his stomach. “Fuck I'm cumming!”

He let out a moan , feeling his cum sticking to your walls. “Sh-shit.” He slowly pulled out , his cum leaking out of you. “So pretty.” He let his cock rub against your messy folds , smearing his cum. “So messy.” he tapped his mushroom top on your bud. “You did so good , took my cock like a good girl.” He kissed your forehead. “such a good girl.”

“Why were they in my closet?” You laid in his arms afterwards. “Because you wouldn't look in there.” He said , you looked at him. “And taking the jewelry box?” He smiled. “I didn't mean to take it , I was just looking at it , then I got tangled up in your stupid shoe rack and I fell , so I tried to quickly return it , but you were faster.” You giggled, shaking your head.

“So I guess since you were the perv in my closet, you were also the perv in the mirror , staring at me?” Jake sat up a bit. “No I never did that , and I'm not a perv.” He pouted, you tapped his cheek. “it's okay you don't have to lie?” You said , but Jake was serious. “Love, I'm serious , it wasn't me in the mirror.” He said , you sat up. “It wasn't?” He shook his head no.

So, then who was it?

TAGLIST. @deobitful @in-somnias-world @darlingz99 @luvitaria @lost-fantasy @lostinneocity @nalenhypen @heeshlove @kirinaa08 @strxwbloody @ryn000 @neosexuals @sakanelli-afc @yizhoutv @capri-cuntz @lilyuwon

©️LUVYENI

#enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #jake sim fanfic #jake sim imagines #sim jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun hard hours #sim jake

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hoseoksluna · 8 months ago

Text

WHITE | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 8.1k

summary: craving white wine, your boyfriend would do anything for you—even let you dom him.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: alcohol consumption, wine!oc is dominant and she's enjoying it, plushie used in a sexual intercourse, dd/lg, jk is desperate and so horny, hand job, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), fingering, squirting, raw sex, the importance of sex being imperfect, use of sex toys — yes, plural, dirty talk, spanking, face riding

note: i'm genuinely sorry for this—SDFKJDSLFJDSLFJS. this is the last wine drabble <3 i loved writing about them again, ugh i missed my babies so much. would you, guys, also like me to write two drabbles about the steam series? i feel like it would only be fair like this. vote in the poll below, pwease. <3 hope you like this last installment.

Your boyfriend has an immense, insane amount of energy.

You have partly yourself to blame. It’s Saturday night, summer at full blast and you felt it thrumming so deeply and intensely within your veins that you found yourself craving your most favored mood-lifter in the world.

White wine.

You’ve almost spent every weekend drinking myriads of different alcoholic beverages, but the white nectar is something you’ve quite neglected. Well, not so much as neglected, but forgotten about entirely. The last time you drank it, you and Jungkook were on far, far different terms. Fuck buddies with a degradation kink, skipping a party because you got horny again. You wonder if things would’ve turned out the same way if you hadn’t decided to spice up your getting ready time with that drink. Would it change the course of events that led him to confess his feelings for you? Would you have allowed yourself to fall for him, had he not made you drunk with his allure?

You only had to mention your thirst and Jungkook was quick to get up to his feet, take his keys, phone and wallet and he was out the door before you could say anything else. Your fond giggles vibrated across the room—so much that Bam lifted his head and jumped on your lap and so you spent the remaining time alone cuddling with the canine friend, catching up in your lovey-dovey dog language, kissing him all over until you dolled him up with red lipstick marks.

He looked so good. Was happy about it, too, because when his Daddy came back, he was similarly quick to show him.

And Jungkook, he laughed so hard that he clutched his own stomach, doubled over, his shoulders shaking. Then, he sat next to you on the couch, pulled you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in years and very solemnly told you that it was his turn now.

The words that tumbled out of you were so swift, without any kind of embrace of thought beforehand, that you didn’t have the time to consider the consequences they would come with until they dazzled you. Through and through, ridding you of your sense of sight.

“You’ll get your kisses only if you show me that you bought the wine.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew in size, darkened in nightly fashion. Twinkles flickering, dimly. The atmosphere, the dynamic and energy shifted, folding into something you haven’t yet experienced in such depth, calming your eyes until they blended back into normalcy. And you wouldn’t perceive it for what it truly was, had Jungkook not wordlessly left to fetch his bag from the convenience store, along with a corkscrew and two glasses, and had he not crouched in front of you.

The view left you stunned. The blatantly obvious fact, too.

The fact that, somehow, you were in control.

And it was so different from the last time due to a simple reason. Jungkook wasn’t the one who initiated it. Didn’t tell you to be in charge. Didn’t give you his control in words, in commands. No, it happened arbitrarily, on its own and Jungkook submitted to it. Submitted to you. Put down his control once he lowered his form between your knees, giving it to you this way, silently.

A thing of utter beauty, filling you up with vibrancy, enthusiasm and… passion.

He showed you his haul, unloading it onto your lap. Sparkling white wine in a golden bottle, dog treats, cheese and crackers and… Miffy.

Miffy in a way you haven’t seen her before.

Made into a sleeping position. Black eyes shut, round butt risen in the air, even rounder tail perked, body soft and drowsy. Bigger than the bunny resting alone on his bed in the other room.

You purred, squeezing her hard before you hugged her to your chest, careful not to smear your makeup on her when you pushed her up to your neck. Looked at your quite small boyfriend with a ravening gaze as you said, “You got bunny a sister, how cute. Well done.”

Your praise coaxed a noise out of Jungkook that you never heard before, one that stirred the eternally slumbering beast in you that had not once seen the night enveloping you. A concoction, most delicious and arousing, of a whimper and a hum. It settled within your core, teasing you there, making you want more. You told him, or the beast more like, to open the wine and he obeyed, right away.

You watched him do it. Watched the flexing of his muscles, tense beneath the fabric of his tiger-print shirt. Watched him not spill a drop and then pour you a glass until it almost overflowed. He handed it to you, expecting you to take it from him, but you caught him off guard.

“Taste it for me first.”

His mouth fell agape. Remained parted when he immediately brought the glass to his lips and took a large sip. Your eyes followed the bobble of his throat as he swallowed and you gave him a big smile for it. A praise, too.

“Good. Let me have a sip now, my hands are full.”

In typical fashion, he drew close to you until your knees squeezed him in, legs wrapping around his torso. One hand wrapped around your hip, the other tipped the glass to your mouth and you looked at him and did not stop until you took a big gulp.

“More.”

He tipped it again. “Tastes good?”

You nodded, liking the sweetness and the fizziness, but this time you didn’t swallow the nectar. Jungkook set the glass down, along with his haul, averting his gaze momentarily and you cupped his chin, bringing it back to you. Leaned in and, in a heated kiss, you spewed the wine out into his mouth. He gasped, pulling away, flushed cheeks a tiny bit full, lips pursed, one mouth end wet with a trickle flowing down. It would’ve been an adorable sight, had his eyes not narrowed, darkened further more and pierced you with such intensity that your clit gained a drum.

Your finger felt for the top button of his shirt. “Swallow. Don’t be messy.” He did. Swore. Breathed hard. You undid the button, lifting your digit to wipe his chin clean, smearing it on his bottom lip until he opened for you. You plunged in. Let out a low sound of delight once he wrapped his puffy lips around it.

And now here you are staring at each other, finger in mouth. His newly secured energy pulsating in him, seconds away from bursting, brutally. You can see it, vividly, and you prepare yourself for it—blaming partly yourself and, feignedly, the palatability of the white nectar for being the cause behind it. He’s waiting for the next move, countenance terribly solemn and stiff. His hands must be oh so itching to take over, but he sticks to the unspoken, patient and good.

Taking out your finger gently, you undo the rest of his buttons, aware of the shudders zapping his body the more you reveal his smooth skin. Jungkook straightens for you, palms on your thighs, breathing heavily, a sound that brings out the strangest of oxymorons in you—simultaneous nervousness and confidence. Nervousness that you call the shots; confidence that the paintwork of his arousal is signed with your name.

And it’s the latter that the beast plucks out, like a twig of flower off a tree.

You push Jungkook back and slide into his lap, biting your lip at the contact of his hardness under the flimsy material of your ivory pajama shorts. His hands clasp around your small hips, but you pry them away, deeming that if you are in control, then it’s you who decides when he gets to touch you. His brows rise when you pin them down and at last he beams up at you, eyes lidded and drunk, despite the fact he merely had two sips of alcohol. Bunny’s sister rests askew in your joined laps, her head pointed towards your mound and it forces a certain idea into your muddy brain.

One that Jungkook fleetingly interrupts.

“You’re gonna take control of me?”

Ooft, making it official. You hum your agreement, repositioning the plushie. Place her directly against his imprint and, pushing the soaked center of your shorts to the side, you sit down on her soft face. Begin to rock slowly. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, fists clench on either side of him as well as his jaw, chin upturned. He’s holding himself back with all of his might and it is only now that you feel your wetness dripping onto the fur, now when the vibrancy of the faint pleasure spreads across your every nerve ending, now when you know that he’s struggling to keep his composure. There’s something so incredibly satisfying about it that you rock your hips harder, whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders.

“Can you handle it?” you murmur, already knowing that he won’t be able to the moment you decide to take things further, but you give him a slither of a chance to prove you wrong, rooting for him from within with a sly smile on your face.

Jungkook pokes his tongue in his cheek, sighing, eyes descending to your neck and to your perky, pebbled breasts under your low cut top. “I’ll handle anything you come up with as long as I get your kisses.”

His sweet response gratifies you so much that you arch your back, lowering your hands down to his chest, the thrum on your clit becoming unbearable, the soft friction of the plushie doing very little to alleviate it. You whine, picking up your pace. “Even—even if you don’t get to touch me?”

Jungkook hesitates, biting his lower lip. A certain sadness coasts his now big eyes that makes you coo endearingly and slow down, feel so bad for him. “Anything for you.”

You can’t halt the groan from escaping, the groan that roots from the passion and the love you carry for him, from the principle of his submission. You’ll make it up to him. Play with him just for a little while and you’ll give him his rightful upper hand right back to him, all because he was so quick to be your little toy. Without a thought, nor a word spared. Without a struggle. He deserves it. Has come a long way.

“You’re just my little slut, aren’t you?” You grab a hold of his throat, tip his chin up, feel his vein throbbing. “My pretty little slut. Hard for me, hm? Will do anything for me?”

Widening his eyes, mouth parted, he moans, sucking in a breath, chest lifting rapidly. Hand automatically lifting to palm himself, just in time to realize that he can’t because the plushie and your lap is in the way. “Yes, I’m your little slut and I need you so bad. Need your kisses.”

You hum, terribly, terribly satisfied. Horny. A fire, personified. Fire and energy—a wonderful mixture about to meet. “Where, baby?”

His breath shakes, his being radiated by you, glistening in sweat. “Everywhere, please.”

You drift your hands down his chest. Think he earned them now by asking so nicely. You sit back on his thighs, plushie in hand, ready to chuck her away, but then another idea comes up.

Grabbing her by the back of her neck, you use her to kiss him. On his jaw, on his neck, on his left peck, nipple and the mole underneath, making kissing sounds. Jungkook shudders at the contact upon his most sensitive spots and you can see his disliking for it before he voices it out. You revel in it, his desperation becoming your obsession.

“No, not from her. Please, from you.”

But in spite of that, your craving to give him everything is stronger.

You toss her on the couch, hands instantly clasping around his neck. You kiss him, wetly, on his Adam’s apple and he whimpers, urging you to continue. The sides of his throat, collarbones, shoulders—you mark him everywhere with your red lipstick, making a pathway down his sternum before you go sideways. Create a large shape of a heart on the left side of his peck, coloring it in with bruises, with kisses so hard that his manhood twitches in his pants. You’re so focused on adorning him, on the citrusy taste of his skin, that you don’t even sense your hands as they rid him of his shirt, unbuckle his belt and undo his button, dragging down his zipper.

You rise to your feet, out of breath, puffy mouth, lipstick slightly smeared, head spinning. “Take off your pants and get on the couch.”

The golden buckle of his belt catches your eye as he stands up. You wrap your hand around it and tug it out of his belt hoops harshly. There’s a hint of timidness in the vast sea of his arousal once he looks at you, aware of what you’re planning with the leather band. With a giggle, you merely wink at him and Jungkook blushes, dropping his gaze in tandem with his pants.

“Boxers, too?”

You edge around his side and envelop your arms around his middle, mouth pressing against his spine. A big, red mark of your lips amidst the broadness of his back. Utterly, utterly beautiful. “Smart boy, yes—off with them, now.”

Jungkook laughs, softly, shyly. You wish you could see his blush deepen as the clenching of his abdomen divulges to you how much he liked that praise. You also wish you could feel the fluttering of the butterflies inside, if there are any at all. You’re getting to know him in such a new way that you otherwise would have never had the opportunity to do so. The shudders, the tension under his skin, the lively energy that is yearning to burst and rain upon you—it is all so awfully exhilarating, even more so the fact that you hold it all in your tender grasp.

And he lets you. In the name of love.

He drops his undergarment and he goes to sit down like you told him to, but you squeeze him harder against yourself. No, he’s not going anywhere. The heat, his soft skin, his gentleness and shyness—you want it all close to you, close enough to seep into your pores so it can make bed there and live there perpetually. So snug, so homely—yes, that’s precisely what it is. Home.

You skim your hands down the defined muscles of his stomach, feeling them move under your fingers. Take his wrists behind his back and keep them there, unrestrained yet, his belt curled on the coffee table. You bring your hands back to his stomach, lowering them down—

“Can you reach me?” Jungkook asks, head turned to the side. You’re so used to degradation in your sex life that at first you thought he was mocking you, but on the contrary—he’s asking in all genuinity. With his forearms pressed to his sides, he’s bigger than he usually is and he wondered if your small form can stretch enough to touch him.

How sweet.

“Such a good, thoughtful boy.” You grab his length. Had to do it from the side a little bit, but you don’t mind. At least you get to see him. See the way he twists his features at the contact, see his energy and his muscles straining. “I guess I can, huh?”

You tug at his length rapidly a few times. His body shudders again, almost doubles over before he straightens his spine, whimpers trickling out of his mouth and rooting in your heat, soaking your pajamas. And when his sounds rise in volume, you swiftly let go of him. Fetch the belt and fasten it around his wrists, leading him to take a seat on the couch.

Manspreading, cock hard, red and long, almost kissing his belly button, hands behind his back, muscles big and flexed, face features darkened by his arousal, ravagedly fixed on you—fuck, you could come from the view.

You sink to your knees in front of him. Itch so fucking hard to take him in your mouth and make that energy paint you in white, but watching him like this—you plan something else entirely. Pressing one kiss on his V-line, you glide your lips upon the tip of his length, making him tremble in desperation. It takes all of your strength not to give it to him, but you know he will be overjoyed with the little thought that’s swarming in your brain.

“Where’s your fleshlight, baby?”

Jungkook loosens a hard, flabbergasted breath and his pretty, pretty cock twitches against your mouth.

You knew it.

You bought the toy together yesterday. It’s still unopened in a box somewhere in his bedroom; you don’t know where he hid it. He may have not wanted to spend money on it, but when you witnessed the way his eyes glowed, you convinced him to get it. Begged him. Told him you wouldn’t leave the sex shop until he bought it and he gave in, timidly. Much to your delight.

“In the closet,” Jungkook croaks out, clearing his throat and you kiss his other V-line as a reward, kitten licking his tip for a millisecond as you rise to your feet. He whimpers, again in desperation.

“You can’t get it, can you?” you taunt, lovingly, fingers hooking under your shorts and dragging them down your hips, your top following over your head. His eyes follow your every movement, fixing on your feminine parts, muscles bulging, yearning to touch you. You grow wetter, being looked at, being desired like that. “You’re just a helpless baby.”

He moans your name, signaling to you that there’s only so much he can take and you understand. You’re quick as you hurry to his bedroom, quick to find it, quick to pull the toy out of the box and quick to return to him.

There’s a trickle of his male arousal gliding down his length when you stand between his legs and your own desperation to pleasure him heightens in you—so much that you’re equally quick to unfold your plan.

You grab his chin and tip it up, harshly. Kiss him so nastily that he moans into your mouth and then… then you stare him dead in his eye. “I’m gonna put the fleshlight under bunny��s sister and you’re gonna show her how hard Daddy fucks his girls, yeah?” He’s left speechless, breathing rapidly, coated in sweat. Eyes narrowed, still darkened but now glowing with that familiar light that you saw yesterday, black irises piercing you through and through. “You should give her a name, though. Have something to moan when you fill her up, hm?”

It’s evident, the way his brain malfunctions, but he surprises you.

“Vinny.”

Vinny and Bunny, how adorable.

You coo, pecking him. “Vinny it is. Such a pretty name. I’m gonna make you nice and wet for her. Would you like that?”

“Please.”

You descend to your knees and you don’t hesitate to immediately take him into your mouth as far as you can. You gag around him, but you relax your throat, bobbing your head only slightly, testing yourself, wanting to stretch your throat out for him. Jungkook groans, squeaks little mewls as he doubles over once more, and the sound is so obscenely loud that your clit throbs harder in response and you would touch yourself if your craving to pleasure him wasn’t stronger.

You pull out until you can stack both of your hands on his length and while your tongue plays with his tip, you twist your wrists. Only briefly, just to make him feel a little better before you lick him all over—just to stay true to your words. And when it’s your name that comes out of his mouth once you slobber all over him, you withdraw altogether.

“Please… please,” Jungkook whimpers, trembling and you feel terribly bad for him. So much that you pucker your lips at him and kiss his cheek endearingly as soon as you get on your feet again, purposefully ignorant to the way your cunt likes his helplessness.

“I got something better for you, Daddy, don’t worry,” you reassure him, slipping into the dynamic your familiarity using the title. You grab Vinny and the fleshlight, placing her on top of the toy, on the armrest of the couch—her butt and her pussy facing him.

And when you glance at him to see his reaction to your artwork, you’re stunned by the look he gives you. Mad, mad stare. Awfully dark and menacing. It would disquiet you if didn’t know that he loved you. There’s no way you could take the liberty in toying with him like this, had you not become exclusive—had he not created a realm of safety for you to do that in.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you for this,” Jungkook threatens and the sliver of normalcy in the middle of the role-play that he caught onto makes you giddy and feel so fucking alive. The threat, too. You quiver in anticipation and excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not walking after this.”

You laugh, softly, thrilled. “I sure hope so,” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm to lift him up. “I’m dripping for you.”

Jungkook hisses. Won’t budge. Remains seated, looking up at you. Doesn’t reciprocate your smile. Scowls, instead. “Can I taste you?”

You shake your head ‘no’, even if it emotionally pains you. “Not right now.”

He sighs and you take his arm again. This time he obeys—lets you lead him into the position that you want. On his knees, still on the couch, perfectly at level with Vinny’s pussy patiently waiting for him. Jungkook looks at her for a long time, studying the silicone shape of her clit and lips. You’re certain that if his hands were free, his thumb would’ve traced her soft vulva.

“Do you like her pussy?” you ask, your grin only widening, eyes blazing, emitting hot sparkles of light. You’re perhaps more excited and enthusiastic about this than he is.

Jungkook looks at her for a split second more before he flicks his intense gaze to yours. “Yours is prettier.” Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart follows its footsteps, skipping a beat, springing up and grazing your vocal cords. You can’t get a word out—you’re stupefied, in love, so impassioned that you resemble him with all that fire in you, taking after his energy buzzing in him. You sense the same movement in you, hotter, more vigorous. Your mouth parts and, cheeks awash with color, you’re on the verge of bursting. “Let me touch your little pussy, please.”

You bite your lip, pause a tiny bit just to regain your composure and you sigh, eventually, gripping his face in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “I said,” you start, emphasizing your warning just to see his flush deepen like you wanted. “Not right now. Can’t you listen?”

For a fleeting moment, there’s a heavy silence filled with his hard breaths.

Then, Jungkook glares at you.

“I’m gonna destroy you.”

You chuckle, girlishly—even though his threat yet again thrums within your skin, even though your body craves to submit to him, throw the playtime away, forget about it, entirely. “Talk all you want. See where it gets you.” With your other hand, you take his length and line it up at Vinny’s entrance. “Fuck her.”

Now—now he finally grins, a puckish smile that unnerves you a little bit, as if an idea crawled up into that smart brain of his.

And he proves you right.

“I’m gonna show her how I’m gonna fuck you,” he mutters, drawing closer to Vinny, to the arm rest. “Where’s the lube? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

A trickle of cold sweat trickles down your spine and it’s you who’s left speechless now. You were so quick to return to him that you did forget the lube, mind void of rationality, filled with him that you forgot such an essential thing. You swear under your breath, feeling stupid.

“Go get it before I rip this fucking belt apart and use it on you.”

Wordlessly, embarrassed with your head down, you go back to his room and fish for his lube in his bedside drawer, noticing that it’s where he keeps the vibrator for you. You haven’t used it in so long in your playtime and you reminisce, briefly, on the last time he made you come with it. On this very bed, on his lap with bunny on yours as he rearranged your guts with the toy on your clit—teasing you by lifting it and placing it between the plushie’s legs, acting for her and screwing up his features in pleasure.

Your heart thuds at the memory, your thighs sodden with your essence, and a certain expectation creeps within its chambers. The expectation that the toy will make a comeback tonight. That is, if you even deserve it.

You cringe at your wetness while your feet pad back to the living room. Jungkook stares you down, guilt written all over his face for being mean and it mollifies your negative feelings, dispersing them away from you. It’s enough for you—you don’t really want to talk about how you pitifully failed, nor do you want to hear a mention of it, but Jungkook seemingly does.

Up close, his eyes are awfully soft as if he made a mistake with his last words. You don’t think he did—he’s always been the leader in your playtime, so you deem he only did the right thing. Besides, you’ve worked him up to the point of anger, so from your standpoint, he didn’t do anything wrong. You did.

“Come here,” he says, gently, leaning in and angling his head. “Put your arms around me.” You do as he says, needing to, needing to be led for a little while before you can resume. You sink your fingers into his hair as you rest your forearms around his shoulders, even though all you want to do is rid him of his restraint and let him fuck it out of you. He kisses you with such tenderness that you whimper in sensitivity and amorousness, taking it one step further and moving your mouth against his, slipping your tongue inside. It’s a brief kiss, no matter its intensity, for he still has something to say. “You’re doing so well tonight. I never thought I’d ever get this hard from you being the boss of me. I’m sorry for snapping, you hear me?” he whispers against your lips, each movement causing his pillows to touch yours in faint, faint kisses that make your mind spin and your desire for him to lengthen across your whole body, deepening. You nod for him, hearing his words, needing them, too—glad for the honesty, for the check in, for the sliver of normalcy. “I’m just so horny and I need you. I didn’t mean it, okay? Daddy didn’t mean to talk to you like this. He loves you and you made him so needy that he’s frustrated, but it’s okay. He can handle it. Do you love your Daddy back, hm?”

You moan at the continuation of his words, running your fingers through his hair, inching closer to him until your chest softly collides with his. And his reassurement, the warm feeling of his skin, the potency of his love—it all erases your mistake, leaving only your sensual craving for him. You nod, again, like a little girl given a talking-to from her father, absorbing the lesson. “I love you.”

Jungkook hums, pleased, pecking you. “Good. I’m gonna do what you want now, baby. Gonna make you proud, listen to every word like a good Daddy, hm? You can do anything you want to me. You’d like that? You wanna keep going?”

You smile at him, sweetly, and he kisses your expression of contentment. It feels so good like this and you feel woozy, too. Sluggish, ready to be taken, on your way to cloud nine. You nod your head for the last time and squirt the lube all over him and Vinny’s intimate parts, your desire to take over him blending into your fuzzy feelings.

With your help, he slides inside her, both pairs of eyes watching the slick intrusion, then meeting at once—your simultaneous groans of delight merging, fading into one another, creating one beautiful, heavenly sound, unheard by all angels and celestial beings. You hold the fleshlight steady as he bottoms out, his mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes so heavy-lidded as he devours your gaze, your face, the pleasure he feels so overwhelming that you almost think he can’t take it. The flexing of his abdominal muscles, the roll of his hips that takes all of his strength while his arms remain restrained behind his back, his neck shiny with a layer of sweat—fuck, the sight is to die for and you melt into something boneless, jelly and gooey; becoming just a hole for him.

You can’t wait for him to fuck you. Perhaps it’s you, after all, who can’t take it.

Jungkook begins to pound her, his mound hitting her clit with every hard motion and it strikes your awe. Your breathing quickens, the drum in your own bundle of nerves unwaveringly unbearable and what’s worse, he keeps fucking looking at you, perhaps imagining it’s your pussy that he’s ruining and your legs tremble, threatening to give out—

“Rub your pussy on the other end, please,” he begs, vocal cords so awfully strained, and this time you decide to gratify him.

The first moan that your mouth emits makes him fuck the toy harder—so much that it slips out of your grasp. You prop your knee on the armrest, flattening Vinny’s face on the edge of the toy, so you can gain the friction you so desperately need and it works. Your cunt soaks her sleepy countenance and you flick your eyes to it, watching the fur get darker with each rock of your hips.

“Look at me,” he grunts—and you do. A hint of softness in the dark sea of his eyes, boisterous waves of arousal sloshing to and fro. “Use her like I am. Hard—” He shows you how by a stroke that reverberates through your body, stimulating your clit by bumping into it. “And then fast.” Quick thrusts that waggle with your form, your curls bouncing against your spine.

And so you match his rhythm. It stimulates you far more than the pace you had going for yourself, your orgasm enclosing around you, inching closer and closer with each graze of your clit against the now more firm plush fur. Your brows knit, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point that it’s you who ultimately takes over and Jungkook follows, matching your rhythm, fucking Vinny faster—the silicone squeaking with each deep plunge of his length into her hole that causes your tits to slap against each other. But Jungkook doesn’t look at them. No, his eyes are set on you and you know that he knows that you’re about to come.

Jungkook begins to pant, marked chest flushing, adorning him most finely. The knowledge is getting him there, too. “You close, baby?”

You moan, sucking in a breath. “So close, I’m gonna come.”

He moans with you, approving of it. “Come, then, I wanna watch you. Make her nice and wet for me, hm?” You rock your hips faster—closer and closer, gripping Vinny with all your might. “I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Kiss you everywhere. Lick that little clit. Fuck you until all that you know is my fucking name. Please—”

You come so hard that it takes both you and Jungkook by surprise, your body violently shuddering and colliding into his. He groans, deeply, following in suit, your orgasm triggering his and he sloppily fucks the toy while he watches you ride out your high, bliss enveloping you in angelic glow.

“Yes, princess, just like that, fuck. You’re so pretty. My pretty little girl, coming so hard. Yes, fuck.” He’s losing himself, moaning your name over and over until there’s nothing left to give to Vinny, until he’s so spent that he sits back on his feet, eyes closing and opening, tongue licking his dry lips. He moans your name again, in post-high. “Please, get the belt—”

You don’t hesitate. With blurry vision and sex hormones swirling in your brain, numb by your intense orgasm, you edge around him and rid him of his restraint, flinging it somewhere away from the both of you, hating it, not wanting to see it again.

You and Jungkook exchange a look full of soft smiles and love, with his joy like a cherry on top of that. He twists his wrists, standing up to his feet, the size difference and the sudden change in energy causing him to grow solemn. No smiles, though the love remains. You feel it thumping in the atmosphere you’re surrounded by as he completely overpowers you, naturally. And you welcome it, needing it—needing to be dominated and fucked until you’re brainless.

“I love watching you come,” Jungkook murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. “It’s all I want to see for the rest of my life. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. It’s everything to me.”

It moves through you, his words, almost painfully with their vigor and passion, passing down your body until they settle in your core. You drip for him. Still feel so terribly lightheaded and high. “Just that, huh?”

“And your snores.”

You punch his arm. Jungkook laughs and gathers your hair, pulling it away from your face, stroking it down your back. A grin of your own curls your mouth. You don’t snore, at all. And you tell him.

“You do when you’re tired.” You gasp, lifting your hand again but he catches it in time, intertwining your fingers with his. “You did such a good job today. You learn well from me. Sounded just like me. Made me proud.” He strokes your hair again and you lean into his touch, even though you don’t believe him. You could’ve done a lot better and it could’ve ended just like you planned—fucking him with that fleshlight. You guess you can save that for another time.

You shake your head. “I messed up.”

“But you didn’t.” He angles his head, inching closer so the gravity of his words can pierce your mind, but it does no such thing. You still have one of your own. Solid as a rock.

“No, I shouldn’t have forgotten the lube. It ruined everything.”

Jungkook sighs, drawing back, fondling the back of your hand before he lets go of it and clutches the nape of your neck. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. You didn’t ruin anything, why do you think that?” He looks at you for a long time, but you can’t take it—you drop your gaze, still feeling terrible. He calls you by your name, firmly. “Who made you think sex is meant to be perfect, huh? Bring them to me.”

You laugh, softly, at the ridiculousness of his question. It’s him who owns your virginity—you’ve never been with anyone else before him. It’s your own expectations that make you think that. “Right here.” You point to your brain.

Jungkook kisses your forehead. Lingers there, giving you a million tiny pecks, as if erasing everything from there that he doesn’t like. It touches you, deeply, and you can’t stop yourself from submitting to it as it melts your brain. Your mouth rounds in a pout, your bottom lip jutting out and when he gazes down upon you and sees it, he coos at you, kissing it. “I made a mistake, too, didn’t I?” You remain silent—still think he didn’t do anything wrong. “But it was still amazing and we came together, didn’t we?”

He’s right; you’ll give him that. “You really liked it?”

He pecks you, vehemently, on the lips and then points to the fleshlight behind him in all its glory, dripping with cum. So much fucking cum that it makes a puddle on the hardwood floor. “Do you think I would’ve cummed this much if I didn’t? Tell me, baby.”

You swear, unable to take your eyes off of the quantity of his male essence. It draws you in, magnetically, and you obey its call, lifting the fleshlight with your hands, turning around so Jungkook sees and darting out your tongue—

“Don’t.”

You swipe the muscle across the silicone hole, collecting his ivory arousal. Most of it trickles down your neck and bare chest and it’s Jungkook now who swears, loudly. Grabs you by your waist and, flinging the toy away, he kisses you. You didn’t even have the time to swallow. He’s tasting himself on your tongue and it causes you to moan into his mouth. He taps the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but at this point you give zero fucks.

His tender bedding grazes your back when he lays you down on it with a harsh thud, breaking the kiss and taking your breath away. Bottom lip between his teeth, he studies your soiled body with his cum, kneeling on the bed by your form. He takes his first two fingers and collects his evidence of pleasure, flicking his eyes to yours. You meet him halfway, expecting him to plunge those digits in your mouth and you’re ecstatic, wanting it badly, but Jungkook pushes you down.

In fact, he turns you around—ass up, face down. With just one hand.

You swear, your arousal gaining new intensity. And it’s your needy hole that he plunges his fingers in, briefly stuffing you with his cum, placing his free hand on your lower back so you can arch your spine for him more. Then, he rubs your clit in hard, slow circles, making you cry out, making your legs tremble all over again—

A spank. A brassy, cacophonous spank that drives you forward, forcing you to grip onto the sheets.

“I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Jungkook rasps. Doesn’t alleviate the burn. “Answer me.”

Fuck. “Yeah, you told me not to do that.”

You brace yourself for another spank, but it doesn’t come. You feel his lips by your ear, his body heat cocooning you as he bends over you, his fists, pitifully, on either side of your back.

“You’re such a filthy little girl. Licking my cum off like that? Making me hard all over again for you?” he tsks, the sound making you even needier. For him, for his cock, even for another spank. You grind your ass against his hip and he maneuvers so his cock slips between your cheeks. Swears, such guttural noise that you mewl in response. “You just do what you want, huh? I guess you don’t love your Daddy anymore.”

He spanks you again, harder than before, and your vowel of disagreement breaks at the concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. “No—no, I love you.”

Another spank. Lips by your ear again, his body clinging to your side. “You love me?” He clamps your mouth shut, preventing you from answering.

You do, anyways, your words muffled. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Jungkook hums in question. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He digs his fingers harder into your cheek, other hand rounding around your hip and attacking you with bolts of pleasure that make you quiver against him—rubbing your clit rapidly before he sinks his fingers inside you… and merely keeps them there.

You move his hand away and he lets you, holding it, panting. “I love you so much.”

Jungkook groans, sinking his fingers deeper. “Who do you love, hm?”

He wants you to say his rightful title and you do, with all your heart. “You, Daddy. I love you.”

At your words, Jungkook begins to pump his fingers and you cry out, placing your head on his palm, taking it. “Such a good fucking girl, making me crazy—” He growls, pressing a fat kiss on your cheek, curling his fingers slowly into that place that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, your orgasm quick to catch up to you. “Good little girl that loves her Daddy, fuck. I’m gonna give you everything. Gonna eat that little pussy, hm? You want that? Want Daddy to make you come with his tongue?”

You squeak when he gives you one particular, hard stroke against your special place, mind numbing, a dam broken. “Yes, yes, please, Daddy, please—”

He draws away, instantly. Traces your back with his palms as he straightens, smearing your feminine essence all over your skin that he licks up. And then, his mouth—

Jungkook takes you in his mouth. All of you. Licking against your clit, sucking it, rubbing his face in your cunt and groaning against her. His hands squeeze your ass, painting it redder and he flicks your little bundle of nerves with his tongue until he senses your orgasm. Then, he pulls away for a second, stalling it. Thumbs your other, puckered hole.

“My pretty little pussy. All mine.”

Mewling, you shake your ass for him and he growls, cursing, spanking your cheek, taking the flesh in his hand and squeezing it. Again and again, until you feel yourself drip, until you feel him spread your legs wider and nudge himself between them, opening his mouth for it to trickle down upon his tongue.

“Sit up. Ride my face.”

You moan before you even obey, sitting down on his tongue and grinding your pussy on it. He rolls it against you, back and forth, following your rhythm. Slow and romantic, kissing your clit every once in a while, sucking it as you keep up your movement, inching dangerously close to your orgasm. He’s in absolute control of you, though. Of your pleasure and climax, stalling it before beckoning it forth again. You lose yourself in it, in the profound and all consuming delight toying with all your nerve endings, creating something within you that diffuses you with confidence and allure, that inclines you to ride him harder, whimper a little louder and knead your breast until you leave your handprint in your wake.

He lets you do your thing, but as you saw earlier today, there’s only so much that he can take.

Clasping your hips, he angles them until your hole is at level with his nimble tongue, guiding you to lean back and use his chest to hold yourself steady. And like his fingers, he fucks you with the muscle, curling it each time. The filthy noise of your slick and his saliva, his breaths and hums, your obscene moans and then his thumb rubbing your clit rapidly—it’s enough, with his evident permission, for you to come.

And you come so hard that you sprinkle his face with your dew.

He laughs in utter joy, humming—humming deeply and you’re so obsessed with that sound that you come again, shuddering violently and he spanks you, holds you by your waist, digging in his fingerprints, allowing you to ride out your high, to use him until you’re so boneless that you slump against him.

Jungkook drags you down, though, slipping, instantly, his cock inside of you. And it’s wild, wild butterflies that you feel in your gut owing to it, then pain so acute that you whine. Enveloping his arms around you, tightly, with no way of escaping, his wet face is so tender that you coo at him amidst the rush of your colorful feelings. Wipe away your dew, giggling, kissing him loudly as his cock adjusts in you and the bite from overstimulation withers little by little.

“You can take it, I know you can,” Jungkook whispers, beaming up at you, iridescent. “You feel so good around me. So tight. I love being inside of you.”

Slowly, he begins to move, causing your features to scrunch up. In discomfort at first, then in relish as your stiffened nipples rub against the hardness of his chest.

“You’re my good little girl. You take everything I give you so well. So well.” Jungkook picks up his pace, gathering your hair in his fist. Doesn’t pull on it; merely holds it. You whimper, his words loosening the overbearing tightness of your walls. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re just my little baby. Mine—” A hard thrust. Your eyes roll back. “My baby.”

“Yes, I’m yours,” you croak out and Jungkook takes your face in his hands and pounds into you until all you see is stars. Pretty, pretty twinkling stars.

Slapping skin, his grunts—you don’t even see your orgasm coming, coming over you so violently and yet in such an exhilarating way. Your dew forces him out, forces his chuckles out again and he brings you back to him, kissing you, plunging his cock back with ease.

You’re so lightheaded that you feel like an angel, soaring in the sky. An angel that years for something more. And you tell him. “Jungkook, please, I want the vibrator.”

He merely smiles at you, arm reaching over and pulling out the toy for you from his bedside table. Turning it on, you’re radiated by the light in his eyes and you whimper in impatience. Jungkook shushes you, like a baby, clicking on the intensity until he’s satisfied, placing it on your clit.

And then he gets up.

Pushes you against his closet, back against the wood, legs around his waist, vibrator on your clit and his hand clasped around your mouth, preventing your loud moans from escaping while letting you know how much he loves being in charge. Giving you hard strokes that secure him your soul on a silver platter before he fucks you so fast that you can’t see anything. Your surroundings are a blur while his face remains clear, painted in tortured pleasure for you as if he were holding himself back.

“Come for me, Daddy,” you beg under his palm, your sound muffled, but it seems that Jungkook understands you.

Pulling away, he turns you around and gets into position again. One hand around your mouth, the other holding the toy on your clit, his dick inside. He begins to play with you, not moving his hips at all, only the vibrator. Panting against the crook of your neck, he takes a second to merely breathe with you while you’re on the pathway to another mind blowing orgasm because he turns up the intensity. “How about you come for Daddy first, hm? I know you don’t need me to move when we do this. You can come just like this. So come.”

And you do, embarrassingly, whining all over the place, twisting your hips to chase your pleasure, causing him to emit the same sounds—causing him to pound you so hard against his closet that he, too, comes in mere minutes. His fingers in your mouth, he’s loud and just as whiny as you, fucking you through his orgasm as you play with digits, sucking on them.

He doesn’t pull away for a long time. Presses you against his chest and holds you like that, still connected. The vibrator buzzes on the floor, the air is stuffed, but you’re content, the happiest angel, held and stuffed, too. With cum and dick. Heaven on earth.

Jungkook begins to kiss your neck, marking you there. Fondles your nipples, making you shudder and sigh, making you utter the three words that he deserves.

“I love you, Ggukie.”

Jungkook makes a sound that tears you apart. A whimper; the whiniest you ever heard him be. He pulls out of you, but stuffs you again with his fingers. Makes you squirt in record time, kissing you everywhere he can reach. Neck, shoulder, jaw, cheek and lips.

You must be soaring again in the clouds because you can’t feel your body, especially not when Jungkook says, “I love you, my little squirter.”

Your knees do give out, after all. Jungkook is quick to pick you up and cradle you in his arms. Wash you clean in the shower. Put on a movie for you while making you food, joining you as soon as he can.

It’s love you feel—love most profound. And as you eat the food together and finish the wine with drenched Vinny on the other side of the couch, you fall asleep with that love thrumming in your heart.

You’ll be his for the rest of your life. And he’ll be yours, too.

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#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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lovelyhan · 2 years ago

Text

— divorce child ⟢

you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s getting custody of the cat you got together?

★ FEATURING; vernon x producer!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 9.2k words

★ TAGS; exes to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, smut (MINORS DNI!)

★ NOTES; 3/4 stories in the series are now up <3 i hope you like this bc i really just wanted an excuse to write something fluffy and adorable with vernon.... he's got me in my feels these past few days fr. small heads up that this fic also features a bunch of characters from again and again, the mingyu installment of the series. this story takes place a couple years after that fic, but you don't necessarily have to read that part to get the events in this one :3c

★ P.S.; this was not proofread as usual lol if you spot any mistakes, do me a favor and pretend they don't exist !

this is part of the doting on you! series.

★ SMUT TAGS; vanilla, clothed sex, wearing ur bf's clothes kink(?), unprotected sex, body worship, praise kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, the smut is just so sweet okay

★ SVT TAGLIST; @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @cheolhub - @Idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jinniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @jkbabiey - @featmia ★ SERIES TAGLIST; @exactlygreatcoffee - @gyusbabydoll - @jeonwonhi - @ti--red

“You sure you don’t need me to pitch in for this month’s check-up? I can always wire you some cash, you know.”

As you zip the pet carrier shut, you roll your eyes despite the fact that Vernon can’t exactly see your expression. Your phone’s sitting all the way on the coffee table but you were so preoccupied with wrestling your cat, Milana into the bag that you couldn’t exactly hold it like a normal person would.

“I’m good. You already covered for me last time, remember?” You remind him before taking the call off loudspeaker before pressing your phone to your ear. “I just got her inside the carrier. Might have to patch up a few scratches before we leave though.”

Vernon laughs. “She always hates going to the vet. It’s nothing too bad, right?”

“I’ve handled worse,” you snort before grabbing a couple of band-aids you keep around various corners of the house for this scenario specifically. “How about you? I thought I remembered Jihoon mentioning that today’s gonna be shut-in day. You know, that time of the month when you guys lock yourselves inside the studio to brainstorm lyrics together. Didn’t think you’d have the time for a phone call.”

“I always have time for a phone call when Milana’s going to the vet,” he says a-matter-of-factly and you can almost picture the warm smile on his face. The thought is enough to make your chest flutter, but you push the feeling down before it can completely come to the surface. “But you are right about shut-in day though. I might have to go in a few, so if there’s anything you need, you better tell me right now or forever hold your peace.”

“Nah. I told you, we’re good,” you insist with an eyeroll before placing band-aids on the scratches that your cat affectionately left all over your arms. “I’ll drop by the company later to drop off a mix that Jihoon asked me to mess around with. But if it’s shut-in day, I doubt we’ll get to see you.”

“Hmm. I can hide his Coke Zero stash outside so he’ll be forced to go out and get it?”

“Now that’s just downright evil.”

“It is. Anyway, aren’t you going to be late?”

“I already am, but Milana’s vet adores her, remember?”

“Nari adores everyone’s pets. Mingyu-hyung told me so.”

“Shush. You talk like our baby isn’t special,” you huff as you sling the strap of the pet carrier across your shoulder. “We’ll head out now. Thanks for checking in, Vernon.”

“...Yeah. Yeah, take care on the way.”

You end the call with your heart racing inside your chest. It’s not the phone call with your ex-boyfriend that flusters you, per-se. You work in the same agency, for god’s sake. Meaning, you’d be in deep shit if talking to him throws you off just because your relationship has already come to an end.

But whenever you jokingly refer to Milana as ‘our’ baby whenever you talk to him, it feels like you’re encroaching on something you’ve already lost a long time ago.

Your listlessness lasts until you pull up by the parking lot. Whether Milana’s staying at yours or at Vernon’s, this pet clinic at the heart of Seoul has always been your go-to. The fact that the attending veterinarian is Mingyu’s girlfriend does wonders to your final bills—she loves giving discounts to regulars and acquaintances—and you like to think you’ve found a friend in her ever since.

The automatic doors slide open when you walk in—Milana’s bag still slung over your shoulder. Chae, the receptionist, flashes you a bright smile before you notice the familiar golden retriever lying in front of the front desk. Old eyes flicker up to you for a moment before his tail twitches once or twice to signal his excitement.

“Good morning, Chae. Good morning, Namja,” you coo before crouching down to pet his head. “Is Nari waiting for me? Sorry for the hold up. It was a bit tough getting this one inside her bag.”

Chae lets out a soft laugh as she types away behind her computer. “Really? Vernon always gushes about how much of a sweetheart she is whenever it’s his turn to bring her in.”

You don’t know whether you should be surprised or embarrassed that Chae knows—or at least has an inkling—of your little arrangement with Vernon. When the two of you were still together, you always brought Milana in at the same time, but now you’re taking turns in bringing your little divorce child to the vet.

But hey, at least you’re still upholding your parental responsibilities, right?

“Of course he does,” you scoff with a shake of your head. “He knows better than anyone that getting Lana inside the bag is a nightmare. This one’s already her third this year. I was thinking of investing in a cage-type carrier instead but Vernon said it was like we’re sending her to prison.”

Chae sighs. “Men. Always so dramatic. Oh, but Doctor Nari’s waiting for you inside.” The receptionist glances at you curiously before you start taking Milana out of the bag so Chae could measure her weight.

It’s a bit of a challenge, handing your full-grown Maine Coon over to Chae, but despite the fact that she thrashes all around before vet visits, Milana has always been tame whenever she’s at the clinic. You manage to settle inside Nari’s office once your cat’s vitals have been measured and her vet is more than happy to see a familiar face.

“Well, if it isn’t Milana and her single mother,” she chuckles. “You here for routine check-ups? Where’s the father, though?”

You roll your eyes—fully aware that she’s only teasing. “Do you ask Vernon where’s the mother when he’s the one who brings her here?”

“Maybe.” Nari smiles before getting up from her desk and receiving your big cat into her arms. “Oh. She’s gotten heavier since the last time she came in.”

“Yeah, her father has been spoiling her with too much catnip. I only found out last week,” you sigh as you settle into one of the seats adjacent to the one across Nari’s desk. “But she’s been hairballing a lot recently. She doesn’t usually groom as much as she does now. Should I be concerned?”

She hums for a moment as she puts on her stethoscope—checking Milana’s heartbeat while her free hand examines your cat’s light brown coat. “Doesn’t look like she has any fleas or mites hanging around, but I can always do a scrape for you if you want the definitive results on paper. Though the excessive grooming could also be caused by stress.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Stress?”

Nari nods before hanging her steth around her neck once more, stroking Milana’s fur with calm affection. “Cats are more easily agitated than dogs. Lots of things can stress them out. Loud music, vacuum cleaners, thunderstorms… Actually, even a switch-up in their pet parent’s schedules is grounds for stress.”

You can only watch in silence as Nari scratches behind Milana’s ears, making your cat purr like a kitten despite the fact that her long limbs are spilling out of her vet’s arms. But regardless of how adorable she looks, Nari’s words got you thinking.

In the tail-end of the breakup, it was a topic that was brought up over and over: who gets to keep Milana? You both split half and half with expenses after the two of you adopted her at a nearby shelter. Not to mention, you both loved her in equal measure, so it was difficult to come to a decision that the two of you could soundlessly agree on. In the end, you settled with the compromise of taking turns watching over Milana because neither of you could stand not being able to see her for too long.

It’s been about three months since you and Vernon call it quits and three months since you’ve agreed on ‘splitting custody’. She stays with you on weekdays and with him on weekends—along with some exceptions for when one party isn’t available. It was also agreed that you’ll take turns bringing her to the vet every month to make sure nothing is amiss with her health.

But when you planned on paying Nari a visit today, you didn’t expect to find out that the fluctuating schedule you and Vernon made a deal out of could be a possible stressor for your cat.

“I think you should just keep her.” Nari suggests, a hint of concern creeping on her face. “You could always tell Vernon to visit Milana whenever he wants to, right? The back-and-forth travel is definitely going to take a toll on this one. Also, cats are smarter than you think. I’m sure she’s already sensed something’s off with her parents a long time ago.”

Milana heaves a deep sigh as if she understood every single word her vet just said and you can’t help the guilt that gnaws at your gut. You thought that this was the best decision you could make for both yours and Vernon’s sanity, but you completely forgot to take Milana’s well-being into account. You can almost hear Nari silently judging you, but you shake your head to rid yourself of the thought.

“We’ll… We’ll talk about it,” you reassure, swallowing the lump in your throat. “But…she’s okay, right? No serious health complications or anything?”

She rolls her eyes. “Sweetie, you’re literally the most responsible cat owner I’ve ever met. No one ever bothers to bring their pets in unless the situation’s already too severe to handle. So you’re good. Milana’s perfectly healthy. Just a little…sad, maybe.”

“Why would she be sad?”

Nari stares at you like you just asked something ridiculous, but thankfully she doesn’t dish out any half-assed remarks about it—opting to settle Milana back onto a nearby examination table to do a couple more physical exams.

“Have I ever told you that me and Gyu used to be in a similar situation in the past?”

You stare at Nari with a bewildered look while her gaze never strays too far from her patient. She even coos out little remarks of praise whenever Milana behaves. How can someone who’s this focused drop such a question in the middle of work?

“Vernon told me you guys split up and got back together after almost a year,” you tell her dryly, not liking the fact that you admitted your ex-boyfriend is a big gossip, but you don’t see any point in hiding the fact that you knew. “What brought it up?”

Nari’s lips twitch into a firm smile before she lifts her gaze to meet yours. “I just think that…you and Vernon? You’re kind of on the same boat we were in before we reconciled. It’s either the two of you are too stubborn or too afraid to see it for what it is.”

Too afraid to…?

“What do you mean?” you ask. “It’s best that we split up, you know? Relationships between co-workers can get ugly really quickly if we forget to be professional. I don’t want us to stop doing the things we love just because of some work-related spat.”

“Then the two of you should just learn how to segregate work from play,” Nari insists before smoothing her gloved hands across Milana’s long torso. “I’m not trying to meddle or anything, okay? It’s just that there’s virtually no reason for you to not get back together. You’re still taking care of Milana together, still checking up on each other, still working together—”

“There it is. That’s the reason why we can’t be together, Nari,” you groan at her stubbornness. “We’re still working together.”

She huffs. “Is there a clause in your company’s contract that prohibits romantic relationships among talents and staff?”

“I’ve never read the fine print, but I’m pretty sure there’s something along those lines somewhere in there.”

“Oh. Well, who cares? Milana needs a loving home where her parents can take care of her at the same time.” Nari then leans down to cup her face in her hands. “Isn’t that right? You need both of them to look after you, hm?”

“So you’re suggesting that Vernon and I should just get back together for Milana’s sake?” you ask half-jokingly and to your surprise, Nari nods like it’s the easiest question in the world.

“Well, I won’t make any assumptions by saying that you’re still in love with him, since you’re the only one who can say that for sure. But come on, do it for the not-so-little baby. You can just learn to love each other again in the process!”

You can hardly believe your ears. In the quick stories that Vernon shared about Mingyu’s girlfriend, you never expected her to be this carefree about the matters of the heart. It must’ve been her six-foot boyfriend’s bubbly personality rubbing off on her.

“Right,” you say with a shallow sigh. “Pray tell, why’d you and Mingyu split up in the first place?”

Nari’s eyes dart to the ceiling as if deep in thought as Milana nibbles playfully at one of her latex-covered fingers. The silence presses on for a few more seconds before she turns to you with a mellowed out expression.

“I thought we weren’t going to work because of how different our jobs are,” she admonishes quietly, lips spread into a thin smile. “But after being an idiot for almost six months, I realized that our jobs don’t matter. I love him. I don’t think I really stopped. Don’t think I’ll ever stop, actually.

“That’s why I was so surprised when I found out you and Vernon broke up three months ago!” Nari continues with a disgruntled look on her face. “The two of you spend so much time in the studio and at your apartment. You even have a child together!” She then gestures dramatically over to Milana. “So forgive me if it doesn’t make sense to me, why the two of you broke up. But won’t you reconsider it? For Milana?”

You shake your head. “Nari, some relationships just aren’t meant to work out. Just because you and Mingyu managed to make good on that second chance, doesn’t mean it’ll be the same with us. We’ve already…settled with what we have right now.”

“What, the endless pining and using the poor cat as an excuse to see each other?” She huffs again and, god, she reminds you so much of Mingyu now it’s actually funny. “Come on, sweetie. I’ve been in your place before, so I know perfectly well. Gosh, this must be how Seungkwan felt when I was still getting my shit together.”

Unsolicited mention of Seungkwan aside, you just don’t see any reason to pursue what Nari is convincing you to do. Nothing really changed after you and Vernon broke up. That’s one of the things you like about him—how easy it is to fall back into a comfortable friendship despite the history you shared.

But you aren’t going to deny the fact that it kind of sucks that you can’t kiss him anymore. Can’t lean into his chair in the studio to pull him into a hug. Can’t tell him you still love him even if…

Oh.

Fuck. You still love him?!

“Fine, fine. Since I have a couple more patients on the waitlist, I’m gonna let you off the hook. For now,” Nari grumbles before handing Milana back to you and taking a seat behind her desk. “Just stick to her usual vitamins and diet and she should be fine until the next visit. But if you want the stress problem to go away…”

“Nari,” you groan. “I’m not getting back together with him.”

“Hey, that is not what I was saying,” Nari rebuts with her hands up in surrender. “I was gonna suggest that you just lessen her traveling! Maine Coons are usually really active, but Milana’s a bit of a…homebody, isn’t she? Might not like all that moving around between yours and Vernon’s apartments.”

“But she’s literally with me five days a week. Won’t she have plenty of rest time then?”

“Oh, who am I kidding? Just get back together soon, pretty please?”

Yep. Mingyu’s definitely rubbed off on her.

When you get home later in the afternoon, Milana is quick to slink off to her usual spot behind the sofa to take a nap while you make a beeline for the kitchen.

It’s always been a post vet visit ritual to get take out to eat at home—even when you and Vernon were still together. However, you opted against the practice for now because not only does it remind you of your ex, but eating all alone in your apartment will only give you more leeway to think about the things Nari told you earlier today.

If you make your own food like you are now, your mind is at least preoccupied enough that you don’t have enough thinking room to even wonder if Vernon even wants you back.

By the time the sun sets, Milana is still dozing behind the couch and you have a potful of pasta noodles and enough red sauce to last you five days. Another thing that you overlooked whenever you cook inside the house is that you almost always cook enough servings to feed two people. Whether subconsciously or not, you can’t bring yourself to hate how your habits are still attuned to the lifestyle you had three months ago.

Before you and Vernon broke up.

“Work,” you mutter to yourself as you dump some pasta and sauce into a bowl. “If I work, I won’t think about him anymore.”

Not-so wise words from a not-so wise person because newsflash: the time that you and your ex spent in your studio is leagues more than the time you spent together in the bedroom. Vernon has already cleared out his leftover gear from your home office, but memories aren’t something he can pack up and leave with so easily.

You recall quiet afternoons where you’d bounce ideas about their group’s next song off each other—sometimes with Jihoon and Seungcheol connected to a Discord call, but more often in the privacy of each other’s company.

There were also gloomy days where it rained all day long. Milana would curl up on Vernon’s lap while he played around with the software on your computer—sometimes using the weird sounds she makes as samples to add into the mix along with the soft drizzle pattering against the windowpane.

But it’s even harder to just forget about all the times the two of you came together intimately within the soundproof walls. You can’t even count how many times Vernon has eaten you out while you’re perched on top of your work desk—one hand muffling your moans despite the fact that no one outside the studio can ever hope to hear you. The world is none the wiser when Vernon pulls you onto his lap, bouncing you on his length until he’s spilling into you with gratuitous release.

In the present, there you are in the ear-splitting silence of your studio—the music software your ex bought for you ages ago seemingly glaring at you for spacing out again. You know you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself since it’s easier to come up with the perfect beats when you’ve got a rough draft of the lyrics in front of you—something that Jihoon and Vernon are busy getting done today.

But still. You can’t help the frustration because you’ve been functioning normally since the breakup. Sitting in the studio didn’t usually lead to you reminiscing about the countless hours you and Vernon spent here together. Making dinner never made you miss having someone to eat across from you at the dining table.

If only Nari didn’t breathe a word about your ex-boyfriend and all the reasons why you should just get back together. Maybe you would’ve remained rational. Maybe you wouldn’t have started considering things that are beyond your control.

Maybe you wouldn’t be hoping so badly for something to happen.

You try to distract yourself by listening to and reviewing the mix you’re supposed to hand over to Jihoon today. The visit you planned on making to the company was canceled since neither he nor Vernon were answering their phones, which usually means they’re taking shut-in day seriously for once.

The track continues to stream through the speakers as you munch on your dinner, filling the room with a quiet melody that would make a great ballad once the lyrics are in place. But no matter how good Jihoon’s music is, no matter how delicious your cooking can be, it isn’t enough to quell the thoughts that have been suffocating you all day.

You still…love Vernon.

If you didn’t, your apartment wouldn’t feel as lonely as it does. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have to feel so awkward whenever you bring Milana to the vet all alone.

But part of you insists that you’re just being carried away by the ideas that Nari planted in your head. You’ve been doing fine on your own for the past three months. How is today any different?

Your senseless overthinking gets worse before it gets better.

The next thing you know, you’re scrolling through your gallery, unearthing pictures whose existence you’ve long forgotten about. You’ve spent almost three years with Vernon—two years officially before getting Milana on your second anniversary. Tons of photos were snapped, countless memories created.

You could’ve snapped more photos, could’ve made more memories if only you hadn’t split up. The fact that (what should’ve been) your third anniversary passed a few weeks ago, stings more than it’s supposed to. That day, Vernon jokingly asked if you wanted to celebrate by your usual spot in the park a few neighborhoods away and you jokingly rejected his offer by saying you had a sitcom to catch up on.

Part of you wishes you accepted the invitation. Maybe the joke could’ve been subverted into something real, and maybe you could’ve been back in his arms by now.

That night, you go to bed with a mild headache and a million thoughts racing through your mind. It isn’t Jihoon’s sad, mellow mix that drones on and on in your head, but a single question that you aren’t sure if you’ll ever get a proper answer to.

How can you still love someone you were so sure that you didn’t anymore?

Come morning, you wake up with a heart that’s heavier than last night and the glaring realization that Milana is missing.

Panicking isn’t usually your first instinct when it comes to your cat. Milana is fairly easy to spot because she’s built more massive than your regular neighborhood felines. But when you’ve already scoured the vicinity for your beloved Maine Coon, it becomes clearer and clearer that she’s nowhere to be found.

You ask around with your neighbors—fairly certain that they know what Milana looks like since she slinks out of the house every now and again. What makes this particular situation worrisome is that she hasn’t come bolting back inside your apartment when you brought out the goddamn catnip. So, when your neighbors begrudgingly tell you that, no, they haven’t seen an oversized house cat prancing around the area, you don’t know what to do.

“Wait, come again?”

“She’s missing, Nari,” you whine into your cell as you nervously bite down on your nails. “I… I was so sure that I locked everything last night, but when I woke up, the front door was wide open and Milana’s just gone.”

Your friend curses at the other end of the line and from the concerned voices in the background, you figure that you must’ve called at a busy time in the clinic.

“Sorry for bothering you,” you tell her while choking down a sob. “Just…give me a ring if ever you or Chae see her around the clinic.”

“It’s not a bother at all! I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” Nari sighs. “I’ll keep in touch. Oh, but it’s also worth considering that cats like familiar places. If you’re going to look for her, you can start with that.”

“Alright, thank you, Nari.”

After hanging up on her, you bury your face in the palms of your hands—sticky tears matting your skin as you breathe in sharply. You’ve never had to deal with a lost pet before. How the hell are you supposed to find Milana in a city that’s as big as Seoul?

You consider calling the police to file a report, but you’re not sure if pet cats even count for a missing person’s case. They wouldn’t be of any help if it didn’t. The only thing you can do right now is go outside and look for her yourself.

You’re quick to pull on an old sweatshirt you once nabbed from Jihoon before heading out—simultaneously texting every one of your friends about the situation as you scout further out of your neighborhood. Hell, you even contacted the animal shelter you and Vernon adopted Milana from out of sheer desperation.

Thankfully, a handful of them responded right away with a promise that they’ll keep a close eye out for any Maine Coons that surely don’t belong in their areas.

But no matter where you look, you always end up back to square one. It doesn’t help that Milana doesn’t usually wander too far from your apartment, which means that you have no clue where she could’ve possibly gone.

Nari mentioned that cats like familiar places, but the only places that are remotely familiar to Milana are yours and Vernon’s apartments.

Yours and Vernon’s…

You quickly bolt back to your place—scrambling to your car before fumbling to get the keys into the ignition. A few failed attempts and very loud cursing later, you manage to rev the engine to life. The next thing you know, you’re pulling into the street with an urgency that’s barely beating the speed limit.

Given that it’s still a weekend, you don’t have to come into work, which means that you have no idea what the boys’ schedule looks like right now. You’re not even sure if Vernon is in the same city, but you’d rather risk the off-chance that he isn’t in Seoul than do nothing.

You try your best to keep an eye on the road all while dialing up your ex-boyfriend as well as doing your best to obey every Korean traffic law there is. The first call goes straight to voicemail and you would’ve crashed into an SUV that’s idling by a red light if you hadn’t angrily brought down your foot on the brakes. Why the hell isn’t he answering?!

By the time you’ve made it to the street that led to his apartment complex, you’re already shaking with anxiousness. Dozens of uncertainties flit into your mind a million miles per minute. What if he doesn’t know where she is? What if he gets mad at you for losing Milana? Hell, what if he isn’t even here?

Shoving down all these biting questions, you park haphazardly across the street, locking your car behind you as you jog up to the steps that lead to the entrance. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that the receptionist at the counter still recognizes you—even going as far as flashing you a kind smile and informing you that Vernon is just upstairs. You wordlessly thank her for the tip before jamming a thumb on the elevator buttons.

You tap your foot impatiently across the marble tiles. Why the hell did Vernon choose to live in a place where you have to use elevators just to get home? Your apartment’s much more accessible especially in times like this when you feel like you’re going to explode with how fucking nervous you are—

The elevator dings when it arrives at the ground floor, making your nerves jump back into focus. You’re completely ready to brush past whoever’s getting out so you can come up to your ex-boyfriend’s apartment faster, but when you meet said ex-boyfriend’s surprised gaze at the mouth of the elevator, your prior urgency comes into a screeching halt.

He’s dressed like he usually is on lazy days—ugly checkered pajama pants, a tour shirt from some Western band that he probably hasn’t listened to a day in his life, and that perpetual bedhead he always sports whenever he just rolled out of bed.

God, he looks so good. It’s so fucking unfair.

“Hey,” he greets awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I was just about to head out and grab breakfast… Uh, make that brunch. Did you need something?”

You don’t even dare to dawdle. “Is Milana with you?”

Vernon cranes his head in confusion and the look makes your heart sink like a stone. “Last I recall, you’re the one who brought her to and from the vet yesterday. Aren’t we missing a couple of chapters here or…?”

You meant to explain the situation as concisely as you possibly can to him. Vernon’s always been an easy going guy. You’re sure that he won’t resent you for it when he finds out that you lost the daughter you’ve been sharing custody over. Even if some irrational part of your brain insists that he will.

But instead of coherent words, all that comes out of your mouth is a choked up sob.

The curve between Vernon’s neck and shoulder is as comfortable as you recall as you press your face against the crook of it—letting the tears run from your eyes and across his pale skin. You vaguely feel him wrap a protective arm around your frame while his free hand smooths down your hair and it makes you wonder why he’s patient enough to let you cry in his arms despite not having explained what the hell even happened yet.

He’s thoughtful enough to bring you to a more secluded corner of the lobby, calming you down by rubbing soothing shapes on your back with his hand and never letting you stray too far from his embrace. It helps that his low voice is there to keep you grounded—telling you that everything’s going to be fine and you just have to breathe, love.

It works after a few minutes and Vernon only lets you let go when he’s sure you’re not in danger of suffocating on your own tears anymore.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he murmurs, taking your hand in his. A small gesture that you’re too selfish to resist. “Is it about Lana?”

You nod weakly. “She’s…gone, Vernon. I have no idea where she went, but she’s gone.”

He hums in understanding and surprisingly enough, the understanding glint in his eyes never wavers. It’s a bit off-putting since you expected him to at least be shocked by the news, but it’s almost like he’s used to hearing that your pet cat just ran away.

“Right. I forgot to tell you about this new habit of hers.” He chuckles with an apologetic smile before one of his hands reaches up to wipe the tears off your cheeks. The close proximity has heat rising to your face, but you’re too stunned to react.

“I read somewhere that it’s good for Maine Coons to wander around to stretch out their limbs. Nari also told me last month that Lana could use the exercise, so whenever she comes over to mine, I let her out without supervision. She eventually finds her way to the lobby and just waits for me to come back if I’m ever running a little late.”

You listen to every word of Vernon’s explanation with a look of disbelief. All this time, you were worried sick about how he’ll react to the news that you lost your cat, but he’s been letting her go out and about when it’s his turn to look after her?

“Then where is she now?” you ask—not bothering to pick a fight with him now of all times.

Vernon hums for a moment as if considering the options and you don’t miss how his fingers tighten around yours when he gives you an answer.

“I might have a good idea.”

When Vernon suggested for you to head to the park just a few minutes away from your apartment as he climbed into the passenger seat, you merely scowled at him. “Milana is afraid of all the dogs that go for walks there. The only dog she isn’t scared of is Namja.”

“Just trust me,” he insists as you start the car. “Better we look there and find nothing than not look when there turns out to be something.”

His logic isn’t so flawed after all when he briskly leads you down a familiar walkway to an even more familiar location. It’s a small hill that’s got a perfect view of the river nearby. The upslope is lined with plum blossom trees that bloom even more vibrantly in spring and it just so happens that one of those trees is dubbed as yours and Vernon’s usual spot.

It’s where you and him usually hang out when the air in the studio has gotten a bit too stale to bring forth any sort of output. The outdoors can offer all sorts of inspiration when it comes to writing and producing songs and it’s common practice to make the trip to the usual spot when either of you are suffering from a nasty bout of creativity block.

And under the shade of the tree in the said usual spot is none other than Milana—curled up in deep slumber as plum blossom petals drift onto her pale brown fur.

You don’t even feel bad for rudely disturbing her from her comfortable nap, immediately pulling her into an abrupt embrace as you feel the tears welling in your eyes again. Milana lets out a strangled meow—claws straining against your skin with a threat of attack if you don’t knock it off. But you can’t bring yourself to care. You’d gladly use up all the band-aids in the world after she scratches you up if it means you can get to hug her for a few seconds more.

“There she is. All cozy at that.”

Vernon’s smooth voice startles you out of your relief—so overwhelmed to see your cat again that you almost forgot that you had company.

“I told you she’d be here,” he laughs before reaching out to pet her head. “You got us worried though. Don’t go wandering too far, okay, Lana? You scared your mom shitless, you know?”

Milana responds with a disgruntled noise but you can feel her claws retract nonetheless. Damn Vernon and the fact that he’s obviously the favorite parent…

She seems considerably happier when you deposit her into her father’s arms—nuzzling his chest with a satisfied purr as you and Vernon start to descend the hill.

But as he showers her with affection, you can’t help but sneak brief glances in your ex-boyfriend’s direction. Vernon has always been easy on the eyes. That’s one of the reasons you were drawn to him in the first place. But whenever you see him like this—laughing goofily as he teases Milana, the high of his cheekbones dusted red with a shower of plum blossoms gliding all over…

The gods are cruel to think you could ever put up a fight.

When Vernon comes over to bring Milana back to your apartment, you don’t expect him to stay for too long. He mentioned on the way that yesterday’s shut-in session was a complete success and that they’ve got all their work cut out for them. All they need is a green light from the higher-ups before Jihoon can start handing the song samples to the company’s usual team of producers—a team that just happens to include you.

So yeah, you don’t expect Vernon to linger because he’s obviously got a lot on his plate. The man hasn’t even had breakfast or brunch or whatever. So when he surprisingly decides to stay and rummages through your fridge for the pasta noodles and red sauce you’ve been saving for tonight, it’s like you never broke up with him at all.

The sight is almost too familiar for you to bear.

Vernon sitting on the kitchen counter, helping himself to some day-old pasta as his long legs dangled over the edge. Milana watching his feet sway around with keen eyes as she attempts to swipe at them with her claws. Not to mention you, who’s staring at the two of them like they’re the most precious things in the world.

“Hey, this is really good,” Vernon compliments with half his mouth stuffed with noodles. “You’re using that one Italian tomato sauce that I like, right? Man, I missed this a lot.”

You will yourself to snap out of whatever trance his presence has got you in before walking closer to him with a soft laugh. You lean across the counter, grabbing a fork from the drawer where you keep your silverware to help yourself to some of the pasta that he haphazardly tossed into the microwave.

“It could’ve been better if you heated the noodles properly in boiling water.” You shake your head. “Then again, you’ve always been impatient when it comes to food.”

“Not as impatient as Seokmin-hyung,” he snickers. “One time when we were still staying back in the dorms, Mingyu-hyung just put the lasagna in the oven but Seokmin-hyung was already yelling about when it’ll be ready to eat. Actually, he always does that even if one of us just pops something in the microwave.”

You shake your head, recalling the words of Nari’s receptionist, Chae. “Men. Always so dramatic.”

Vernon snickers in agreement. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

You fall into conversation with him so easily, it’s almost unreal. When Vernon finishes his food, the two of you eventually migrate to the living room—catching up with each other in a way that you don’t really have the time to whenever he comes over to pick up Milana from your apartment in the past.

Speaking of Milana, your cat acts as a barrier of sorts between you and Vernon, lying comfortably in the space that the two of you left unfilled. Cuddling up to him on the couch used to be so easy, it’s almost second nature, but now that you’re nothing but co-workers that are friends at best, you’ve got a lot more reservations than you used to have.

“By the way, I’ve been looking everywhere for that sweatshirt,” he muses before pointing at the graphic crewneck you’re wearing. “I thought I lost it in the laundry or that Seungkwan might’ve nabbed it when he came over to my place.”

“Why is he your first suspect?” you snort. “Also, what are you talking about? This is Jihoon’s.”

Vernon blinks at you, a little confused. “No, that’s mine. Jihoon-hyung must’ve borrowed it from me and let you borrow it after. When did you even get it from him?”

“Um. About a month ago?”

“That explains it then.”

You roll your eyes. “Look, if you want your sweatshirt back, I can just give it to you.”

“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” he insists, one hand drifting onto Milana’s head so he can scratch her ears. “You’ve always looked good in my clothes anyway.”

Silence fills the room almost uncomfortably at how easy it is for him to admit that. The sudden shift in the atmosphere occurs to Vernon a little late and the smile on his face falls when he realizes what he just said.

“Oh, I didn’t… I mean—”

“It’s— It’s okay,” you interject meekly, managing a shy smile as you tug on the sleeves of your—his—sweatshirt. “I always liked wearing your clothes too.”

You’re perfectly aware that you should know how to hold yourself accountable for the things you say. That goes the same for Vernon. So when the two of you willingly let the other hear such controversial things that co-workers-slash-friends probably shouldn’t be saying to each other, you’re not sure what to make of the situation.

Are you reading him wrong? Or is he actually reciprocating your misplaced longing, no matter how subtle? It’s always been hard to tell with Vernon, who’s never straightforward with what he wants to communicate. Always trusting that you would understand the nuance of his every action, his every word, when all they do is make your head spin.

The sight is perfectly domestic—lounging comfortably on the sofa after a good meal, both of your feet kicked up on the coffee table, and your big baby daughter purring quietly from where she lies between the two of you.

But even if three months doesn’t seem like a whole lot, it’s enough time for some…due changes to eventually set.

“You know…” Vernon starts, sucking in a deep breath almost like he’s nervous.

“Do I know what?”

His eyes flicker over to the ceiling as if praying for some sort of deliverance before forcing himself to meet your gaze again. There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t parse right away, and you wonder if you can ever understand what it is.

“I… I still listen to that old mixtape you gave me. Do you remember? The one you gave to me when we first met?” he murmurs quietly, bringing his hands onto his lap so he can twiddle with his thumbs. “Before we have to come up on stage and I start feeling nervous, I just listen to a softcopy of that mixtape on my phone. I still do now.”

That mixtape… He still has that? Moreover, he managed to save a softcopy and downloaded it onto his phone? You would’ve asked him how on earth he managed to do that, if you weren’t so startled about his sudden revelation.

“Your voice always gives me strength. Even when we weren’t together yet—even if we’re not together anymore.” Vernon purses his lips, a sad look eclipsing the sincerity in his eyes as he strokes Milana’s fur thoughtfully. “So I’m really sorry if you think I’m overstaying my welcome today. I definitely am. But I just— I just wanted to be selfish for once.I wanted to spend a little more time with you because I know you’ll go back to distancing yourself from me once I leave.”

When he turns to face you, you know it’s the real deal. There’s a spark of determination in his eyes that scares you a little—like he’s about to say something you’re not ready to hear yet regardless of how badly you want to.

But before he can get a chance to utter the words, your phone starts ringing on the coffee table. You’ve never swooped in to answer a call so quickly in your life.

“Hello, what’s up?” You nearly cringe at how bubbly your voice sounds as you get up from the couch.

“Hey, have you found Milana?” Nari’s voice flows into your ear, genuine concern lacing each word. “I asked Mingyu to look around with Namja, but no dice. I could contact some other friends if you—”

“It’s okay, Nari,” you interject, fingers drumming across your thigh. “We already found her.”

Your friend makes a curious noise. “Who’s we?”

You nearly balk when Vernon plucks the phone out of your hands, pressing it to his ear with a smug grin that you don’t usually see him wear.

“Who else?” he says. “Thanks for checking in, Nari. But we’re kind of…busy.”

The call isn’t even on loudspeaker but you can obviously hear the way Nari gasps like Vernon just unveiled some scandalous secret. “Oh my god. Are you—”

Vernon ends the call before tossing your phone back onto the couch, startling Milana out of her nap. Your cat flashes Vernon something similar to a dirty look before hopping off the cushions and sauntering off elsewhere. You just hope she doesn’t retaliate by wandering outside again.

But your cat’s newest penchant for wandering around is the last thing on your mind because even if you’re not facing him, you can sense Vernon’s towering presence directly behind you.

You don’t resist when he hugs you from behind—resting his forehead against your shoulder as he breathes out a shuddering sigh. His arms still feel like home despite being months into the breakup and you don’t know how to fucking deal with it.

“I still love you. Never stopped,” he whispers. “It was…completely stupid of me to think we’re better off as friends just because we’re coworkers. You’re too important to me. I don’t want to be your friend. I want to—”

You don’t even give him leeway to finish that sentence, whirling around in his embrace as you meet his lips in a quiet kiss.

In a split second, several things happen at once. Dying stars collide. Black holes collapse. Eternities unspool.

And you start to realize that you can’t live without Vernon Chwe.

“Shit, Hansol, please.”

Vernon loves how his other name falls so gracefully from your lips—loves how you frame the words in such an…interesting way. You only ever call him that when you’re feeling particularly strong emotions—happiness, anger, disappointment…

Pleasure.

He heaves a long sigh as he peels himself away from the home he’s made between your thighs. You’re not sure how long Vernon has been eating you out, but your brain is close to melting and you can’t process any other coherent thoughts aside from how your cunt still tingles from the orgasm he just gave you.

Your panties have long been discarded on the bedroom floor. All you’re donned with now is the old sweatshirt that you thought belonged to Jihoon but turns out was Vernon’s property all along. He insisted that you keep it on—emphasizing just how much he likes seeing you in his clothes before promptly robbing you of your capacity to think by eating pussy like it was his life’s purpose.

It doesn’t help that he looks so fucking delectable between your legs—big hands splayed across the sensitive flesh of your thighs as he looks up at you with a dazed expression. His lips are parted, still glossy from the aftermath of your release and the look in his eyes almost makes it seem like he’s the one who’s just been eaten out to completion.

“Fuck, ‘Sol,” you whimper, head falling back onto the pillows as you shield your eyes with your arm. You can’t even look at him without feeling like you’re about to combust. “Stop staring at me like that…”

Vernon leans down to pry your arm off your face—forcing you to meet his loving gaze before pressing your arm down onto the mattress.

“Like what?” he whispers, the blunt of his nail scraping against your bottom lip.

“Like you want to swallow me whole.”

His eyes almost crinkle with how wide he smiles at you and you nearly writhe with anticipation when you feel his drenched fingers prodding your slicked entrance again.

“What if I tell you that’s exactly what I want?”

Vernon’s mouth is on yours before you can even breathe, tongue bullying its way past your lips as he licks into your mouth. He slips the digits he used to tease you back into your wet channel and you delight in how he swallows your moans as he pumps them inside at a languid pace. Vernon has always been good at building your release from the ground up—never one to rush any orgasms he’s willing to give. As long as you feel good, he’ll exercise as much patience as he can.

“V-Vernon,” you gasp when he curls his fingers and thumbs at your clit at the same time, flicking your sensitive bud with just the right amount of pleasure that has your toes curling with pleasure. “Fuck, please, please—”

“Sounds so good for me,” he sighs, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before giving a delicious tug. “Wanna record all your pretty noises and use it in a song. D’you want that too, love? Want everyone to hear how nice you sound?”

The idea of him using your voice in the throes of pleasure for such a mundane thing sends a rush of heat straight to your core. You moan in reply, rubbing your needy cunt against his hand in a desperate attempt to get yourself off. Vernon chuckles against your lips and his teasing almost makes you pout, if only he isn’t so fucking good at finding your g-spot.

The first time he makes you come, it’s with his mouth and the second is after he expertly picks you apart with his fingers. But no matter how well Vernon knows your body, you still think it’s fucking unfair for him to coax orgasm after orgasm from you like it’s as easy as breathing.

“Hansol,” you whisper—brain too fucked out to segreget his two names properly. “Want you inside me. Want all of you.”

He shakes his head with an audible tut, slipping his fingers out of your pulsing hole. The action makes you mewl in protest, but Vernon brings those same fingers to your lips to silence you.

“You have to work on your patience, love,” he murmurs, angling his face a little before his lips descend onto your neck. “It’s been a while since I’ve had you like this… I want to savor you. You’ll let me do that, right?”

All you can do is answer him with a helpless nod.

His sweatshirt is off in a split second, revealing your body to him in a way that makes you want to hide underneath the covers. He gazes at you so intensely, it makes you wonder how someone you broke up with three months ago still looks at you like it's the first time.

Vernon writes poetry onto your skin with each caress of his lips, making sure you feel everything he’s doing to you as he leaves no inch of your body untouched. Sex with him has always been intense, not because he likes to fuck hard and fast but because he likes to take his time—to sink himself into your skin deep enough that you can’t ever hope to flush him out of your system.

That’s probably one of the reasons why you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop loving him. He’s become such a fundamental part of your life that living without him is the same as breathing without oxygen.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs as his lips latch onto your breasts. “So fucking beautiful.”

Vernon isn’t a man of many words. You’ve come to know this for a fact, so whenever he spills all these compliments for you to hear, it makes your heart swell inside your chest. A handful of other people have called you that in the past, but when the words come from Vernon’s mouth, it feels like the gospel truth.

Fortunately, your lover was never too cruel to you. Sure, he likes to instill the value of patience, but Vernon never found the appeal of bringing your partner to tears because of their unquenchable need for release.

He doesn’t even make you beg for his cock. Vernon simply lines up the tip with your swollen entrance before slowly pushing inside—dark eyes cognizant of every shift in your expression to make sure he isn’t hurting you. When all he sees is you whimpering from how good it feels to be split open by his cock, he knows he’s doing it right.

“I love you,” he whispers breathlessly—hoping the words won’t be lost in the midst of the mind-numbing pleasure. “I’m so in love with you.”

He ploughs you into the mattress slowly, deeply, wanting you to feel every inch of his cock as he fucks into you. Vernon is rarely vocal with his words when it comes to sex, but he makes up for it with the pleasurable sounds that escape his lips. And with how long it’s been since the two of you lied together like this, you wouldn’t blame him for feeling more unhinged than usual.

“I love you, too, ‘Sol,” you sigh but the words are eclipsed with a high-pitched keen when he amps up the pace of his thrusts.

“I love hearing you say that,” Vernon groans, biting his lip until he can taste iron on his tongue.

“Then I’ll keep saying it.” It’s a miracle how you manage to get the words out when he’s quite literally punching the breath out of your lungs with each stroke. “I’ll say I love you while you’re fucking me. I’ll say I love you even when you’re not.”

“I’ll say it all the time if it means you’ll come back to me.”

For a moment, the intense pace he’s set falters—eyes wide and mouth agape. You worry that you must’ve said something out of turn, but Vernon proves you wrong by pulling you forward into a tight embrace, fucking up into your tight cunt with a kind of vigor that you never would’ve associated with someone as easy going as he is.

“I’m yours, love.” he rasps against your neck, teeth grazing the skin just above the thrum of your pulse. “I’ll always be yours.”

The sudden switch in positions and the sincerity of his words is what pushes you over the edge a third time—making you cling onto Vernon like a lifeline as he continues fucking you through your orgasm. You can tell that he’s close. His strokes are more erratic, more frantic. Now that he’s brought you to the pinnacle, he doesn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t make it to that same paradise too.

When he comes, it’s a burst of white hot pleasure that singes through every single nerve ending in Vernon’s brain. You let out such an adorable little whimper as his cum coats your insides in generous spurts, filling you to the brim with his emission with the full intention of keeping it inside you for days.

But as much as he loves entertaining the idea of defiling you until everyone in the world knows you belong to him…

He’s always put great importance in the art of aftercare.

Both of you try very hard to ignore Milana’s judgemental stare as Vernon carries you to the bathroom—propping you up on the toilet cover first as he draws a warm bath. But from the way she dismissively leaves the two of you to your own devices after a few minutes, you like to think that you’ve gotten her seal of approval.

Your no-longer-ex-boyfriend gently lays you into the tub with him, reaching out for the soap on one of your toiletry holders as he massages you everywhere you’re sore. You let out a satisfied sigh before resting the back of your head against his firm shoulder.

“How’re you going to explain to the higher-ups that you’re dating one of their producers again?” you chuckle, placing your hand on top of his as he continues to clean you up. “Maybe I should just find a job somewhere else. A place where it isn’t illegal to have an idol as a boyfriend.”

“Maybe,” he muses before placing a firm kiss on your temple. “But whatever happens, I know I’ll always stick by you no matter what.”

You turn around, arching an eyebrow at him. “Even if it’ll cost you your job?”

You completely expect him to backtrack a little. Vernon is obsessed with you—you get that. But probably not to a point where he’s willing to breach the company’s contract just to keep being with you, right?

But for some reason, it sounds so fucking easy for him to say it when he whispers:

“Even if it’ll cost me my job.”

⟢ end notes: this is probably the sweetest thing i've ever written bc i personally headcanon vernon as someone who loves his s/o so deeply, it consumes him (like in a good way yk). i had so much fun writing this (esp since i got to sneak in vet!reader from again and again under the name nari hehe) so i rly hope you enjoyed it! do look forward to the last part of this series, which will feature resident catboy jeon wonwoo <3

this is part of the doting on you! series.

#svthub #seventeen smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #seventeen fanfic #chwe vernon fic #lovelyhan #full length fic 📚

3K notes · View notes

jensthwa · 23 days ago

Text

mountebank chem pt. three (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 16.5k (dear god).

WARNINGS: eventual SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, this chapter is truly them being cute and barely fighting which is ???, healthy competition i think, they get a serious case of the silly goose at some point, mentions of drinking at some point, gyuri being an overprotective friend, meeting new people, emotional talk involving kids yall will see why, pet names (princess), descriptions of female and male anatomy, first kisses!! *the crowd cheers*, a little bit of dry humping... *the crowd boos* and unresolved feelings!!!! *the crowd AND y/n leave in angry tears*.

NOTES: hi everyone! here's part three of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE. so, so sorry it took so long but i had a bit of a writer's block these past months :(. there's mentions of the last installment plot so, if you're new around here, you can always find the rest of this series and the rest of the stories of this universe on my masterist! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 5th 2024.

masterlist - part one - part two.

There's this image of you that flashes across Yunho’s mind.

It happened right before he fell asleep last night, too, and he's having a hard time figuring out if he only dreamed it or if it actually happened.

The skin on your back glistening, the cut of the dress after he pulled down the zipper just enough to not be disrespectful.

He did it out of instinct, out of the sudden familiarity he felt between you both. He did it because, before he had the genius idea of helping you with your dress (to get it off in some way, what the fuck is wrong with him), you were really close to his face and he couldn't think straight for the remainder of the time he was in your presence.

There was a time in his life where the mere thought of you brought discomfort to him. It kinda brings discomfort to him now, too, but it's a different kind of discomfort. It's dull, it's confusing and it's angering at the same time because, if he was sure of something before, it was the fact that he never really wanted to be near you.

You were the bane of his existence when you two were kids, something that was forced on him the second your parents wanted and he despises the lack of control and freedom he's always had around you.

And now there's a flash of you genuinely laughing at him for blushing after the old lady from last night gave him some not-so-innocent compliments in front of everyone. There's a flash of you defending him when you really didn't need to, even if you stated otherwise.

There's a flash of you wiping the corners of your mouth after finishing the food he made you, a visage that completely besots him.

He never really wanted to kiss you.

Only once, at your graduation party, but that was drunk him and playing spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven really did a number on his teenage hormones at the time.

He remembers the bottle landing on the girl next to you and the guy next to you and the guy next to the guy next to you. Yunho kissed them all with the hope of kissing you at some point that night. Just because he was curious, because deep inside of him he knew your parents plans all along.

He didn't get to do it, though, and so it didn't really matter; the wish died as soon as he woke up the next day with a huge hangover and a dry mouth. Yesterday, he thought the same would happen if he went to sleep and dreamed about anything but you.

That, of course, didn't happen.

Now he’s just left trying to figure out what the fuck is going on exactly as the memory of your lips and the sting of annoyance that follows the thought of him wanting you in any way other than fifty feet apart distracts him from whatever his friends are saying right now.

“He lost his fucking mind,” Gyuri stands in front of him, hands on her hips and furrowed brows like a mother who’s scolding her troubled child. She collapses on the couch behind her a second later, next to her best friend who’s giggling at her and her reaction “He’s not even answering to me.”

They called for an emergency meeting at San and Wooyoung’s place, as expected. He was supposed to see them on saturday anyway but now he gave the friend group a reason to hang out a day earlier. Seonghwa did too, but his story, apparently, is more interesting than the oldest sudden girlfriend.

In a way, they both got out of nowhere partners. But the friend group is hanging out a day earlier than expected so he’s not really sure why he’s being reprimanded for something so out of his control.

They don't know this is out of his control. Maybe that's why.

Wooyoung takes a sit in front of him, on top of the wooden table separating the space between the tv and the couch and puts a hand on his shoulder, like a father who’s trying to be on his side of things without offending his wife “Care to explain yourself, Yunho?”

He decides to play pretend so he doesn’t have to think about it more than he needs to “Explain what?”

As Gyuri gasps, Woo shakes his head before dramatically hanging it low.

“God help you, my dear friend.”

Gyuri gets up again and Wooyoung gets up as well, stepping aside so he can give space to her to regard poor little him with the angriest look ever directed at an innocent man.

He thanks Mingi for opening the front door of the apartment right at that moment.

Behind him, Mingi’s girlfriend, Yeosang, Hongjoong and Seonghwa follow suit. San is in the kitchen finishing the dishes and Jongho is at school, taking a quiz or something, he thinks.

He didn’t really read the group chat like that. They just requested his presence and he spawned in the apartment half an hour later.

But he didn't take into account that he was seeing Mingi that day too. Mingi, his best friend for a few years now, the only person he should've actually told what was going to happen yesterday night.

He fucked up.

“Can you let the man explain himself, Gyuri?” Mingi asks, down on one knee and helping his girl take off her shoes. Yunho wants to roll his eyes but Mingi is, after all, head over heels for her.

How is he going to explain to them that he’s not head over heels over his new, sudden girlfriend? That, in fact, he thought he despised her until yesterday.

And that now he’s not able to shake her from his thoughts even if he desperately wants to.

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa asks and Gyuri turns and points at him.

“We’re talking to you after we talk to him.” She makes a show of her threat, her pointed finger moving to Yunho’s forehead and slightly pushing him back on his seat.

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and plops down on the couch, next to San’s girlfriend “Oh, my God.”

“I’m sorry,” she tells him with a tiny smile “She’s freaking out today.”

Wooyoung turns the tv on. His laptop is connected to it through a long, orange cord and when Yunho turns to the screen, it shows a picture of him and you with plastic smiles that look too real.

If only people knew.

“This is what’s going on,” he says, pointing to the image and then leaning into his laptop to click a new tab “The Jeong and Kim empires merge into one after their youngest announce they’re in a relationship at yesterday’s twenty year celebratory gala,” reading directly from the article, Yunho manages to cringe at the wording of it before Wooyoung turns to him “Since when, bitch?”

Yunho opens his mouth to reply but both Yeosang and Seonghwa make a surprised noise.

“Oh?”

“Isn’t she…?” Yeosang looks at him “Is she?”

He nods and Yeosang claps, mumbling a I knew it under his breath.

“So that’s what she meant when she told me I looked familiar, she knows you!” Seonghwa smiles a little and then his expression turns into a frown, like he just realized something he shouldn't “When did you start dating her?”

“Well, actually—”

“And didn’t tell us?” Mingi’s girlfriend looks very offended but he can tell she’s half joking, especially when Mingi smirks a little and then joins her with a pout.

His best friend looks at him a second too long, though and that lets him know he might be a little offended.

Mingi opens his mouth to speak but a choir of voices stops him from doing so and Yunho breathes out his regret for even showing up and for not explaining everything to Mingi first.

“What do they mean ‘merge their empires’. Are you getting married?”

“When did you even meet her?”

“Through his family, I suppose.”

“Are you getting married?”

“So did you cheat on her like two months ago with that girl from the bar?”

“No, no, he didn’t hook up with the girl, that was Hongjoong.”

“Sure I did,” he says and gives Yunho a look, like he doesn’t remember who they’re talking about “Yuyu, can I be the main groomsman?” Hoonjong asks as San returns with a snack plate on his hand and he takes it from him when he offers it, putting some chips on his mouth immediately “Hwa, too. We're the oldest, so.”

Mingi scoffs “And I’m literally his best friend, don’t even try it.”

“That’s literally me, oh my God? Liar?”

Yunho is starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the amount of noise he normally would contribute to.

Right now? He wants everyone to shut up while he finds a way of explaining everything and not sound completely insane in the process.

It’s quite the normal concept, he thinks. Arranged matrimonies are a thing in a lot of cultures and in his it’s more subtle than anything, not quite what it used to be, but they’re still there especially for families like his.

He’s not getting married, he should also clarify that. But as Mingi takes hold of Wooyoung’s laptop and scrolls through the article and then turns to him asking for an explanation with his eyes instead of his words, all the coherent sentences he just put together in his mind die on his tongue.

Mingi is not really one to pry, but his stare tells him that he’s a little bit concerned with everything. After all, he’s the only one who understands the full complicated history Yunho has with his family.

“Guys,” he says, all mischievousness wiped out of his face “let him explain and don’t interrupt.”

The noise quiets down and everyone looks at him, expectant and curious. Now that he’s able to untense his shoulders and take a calming breath, he also notices a few concerned stares that join Mingi in the sentiment.

Alright. Okay. He can do this.

Yunho sends his best friend a thankful smile before gulping down his nerves.

“That’s Kim Y/N,” he points at the tv screen, although half of your face is cut off because Mingi scrolled down to read “I’ve known her since we were kids, her parents and my parents are really good friends and her dad helped my dad launch his company, so we were… They were celebrating that yesterday.”

Everyone nods and then he catches Seonghwa’s eye “My brother and her brother are very good friends, too. You know Soohyun hyung, don’t you?”

“Oh,” he seems taken by surprise by that “he’s a new client.”

“I figured,” Yunho smiles, “He’s a good guy, just a little…”

“Carefree?” Hwa offers.

“Mhm. Anyways,” he shakes his head, trying to get back on track “Jeong Tech made a huge mistake a few months ago and so they decided to announce our relationship yesterday to kind of… Everyone loves Y/N,” he says quickly “She’s… We—”

“Are you two together or not?” Wooyoung asks, clearly confused and when everyone shushes him he mutters his apologies.

Yunho wants to answer him with the truth. He really does and it’s right there, ready to come out, but he thinks about you. About everything you told him yesterday, about how you actually seemed to care to please your parents.

He thinks about his own mother’s threats.

And he knows it’s a little stupid wondering if someone in this room would tell, but he hesitates.

It hurts him to hesitate but then someone speaks up. There, curled around San’s arm and peeling open an orange, his savior speaks up.

“Relationship of convenience,” she says softly and matter of factly, turning heads in her direction “What? I could’ve told you this two hours ago,” she points at Gyuri and Wooyoung “But you refused to explain! Come on, everybody,” giggling, she offers a freshly peeled slice to her boyfriend. “I work with books for a living, you work with books for a living!” She points at Woo again, “This trope is classic,” and then she looks back at him with a kind and honest smile. “You two do look good together, though. Are you friends, at least?”

He hesitates. You both definitely, sort of, made amends last night. But it's a little weird and, suddenly, also hard to explain.

Yunho thought the word friends would've just rolled out of his tongue naturally, as a little white lie to ease everyone's worries. Now, it hardly makes its way onto it so he just nods after a long pause that definitely raises suspicion on everyone's face.

“We've known each other for a very long time, went to highschool together and everything,” that seems to eradicate some of the doubts, because San grins and turns to his girlfriend with a knowing smile that she returns.

Gyuri is not as convinced “But are you friends?”

“Yes,” he returns immediately after that, wanting the conversation to be over. He’s not lying, not really, not after what you both said yesterday “We are, we’re trying to be.”

“So you hate the bitch. Got it.” Gyuri nods.

Yunho takes offense to that, oddly enough. Because no, he doesn't hate you, not a little, not at all.

He thinks.

Besides, he confirmed yesterday that you're not much of a bitch and it hurts that Gyuri thinks you are one, but San’s girlfriend it's already handling that before he has the opportunity to defend you like you defended him.

“Babe, don't call her that.”

Gyuri raises her hands defensively “I'm just taking preventive action! What if she is a bitch?”

“She's not.” Yunho says and they both turn their heads to him, Gyuri with a frown and her best friend with a knowing smile.

What does she know that he doesn't? Beats him.

Instead, he settles “She's just… Well, she's—”

“Intense?” Gyuri offers.

Wooyoung shakes his head and points to his ex “No, that's you.”

For once, he's glad their bickering interrupts him because he doesn't really know how to describe you. What's his current opinion on you? He has no clue. It's weird, he hates it a bit, but the feeling is there and the words are on the verge of spilling out of his mouth.

San’s girlfriend gasps and then murmurs an excited: “I love enemies to lovers!”

“I don't think real people can fit into fictional tropes, babe,” Gyuri returns, taking a slice she's offering in her direction before eyeing Yunho “Or can they?”

That he can answer “We're not enemies and we're definitely not lovers.” He says with a shrug.

“You're something way worse then,” San’s girlfriend nods and then smiles in excitement “Can't wait!”

“For what?” Yunho asks in a whisper but Mingi, thankfully, interrupts.

“Why are they talking about marriage, then?” He asks, his concern is palpable and Yunho feels kind of bad. He feels really bad, actually.

He could have told him this, at least. He could have talked about you, but the truth is that his mind avoided remembering you if not necessary; that’s how much you two seemed to hate each other.

Now?

It’s kind of complicated not to think about you when you’re plaguing his mind, infecting it like a virus.

Or painting it, like the canvases he saw in your room yesterday.

Do you paint? Is that something you like to do in your free time?

Why does he feel like he knows very little about you, all of the sudden?

He groans and then shakes his head.

“There’s no marriage, they’re getting ahead of themselves,” he clarifies.

“Is there going to be a marriage?”

There's movement on the screen now and he sees Mingi’s girlfriend scrolling unapologetically through the article. She's watching a video of the both of you posing together for a picture and there's something that pulls inside of him. His eyes attempt to water but he manages to keep his emotions down, locked up because there's a lot of feelings he won't put on his friends.

He's sure they think of him as a dumb puppy who's actually very academically smart, just a little clumsy with his social interactions. He's been pretending he is, anyway.

The only one who really sees through him is Mingi but even him, to some degree, has bought his immature act. And to some extent it became real for Yunho himself, too, so deep fears and sad emotions are off the table.

So he pulls himself together and turns to his friend.

“I think she has an escape plan if our parents decide to marry us off to each other,” he admits, snorting out a laugh that’s a little bitter but more amused than anything, he shakes his head “So no, no engagement, no marriage.”

“Why, what's wrong with you?” Gyuri asks, eyes squinted with prejudice and suspicion “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?”

“Well, that's not… Gyuri,” he opens and closes his mouth a few times, not really knowing what to say to his friend's question, so he looks at Mingi with begging eyes “That's not really the point, right?”

“Don't look at me, she's right,” Mingi shrugs, “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?”

“Because we're not in love!”

Wooyoung scoffs “And yet you're a perfectly fine and rich young man, so why wouldn't she want to marry you?”

“So we officially hate her, right?” Gyuri says and claps her hands before standing up again for the millionth time and heading his way. Her hands fall on his shoulders and he has to crane his neck to see her from below “Okay, then! What's the plan? Do we get rid of her?”

“No!”

“I could, if that's what you want.”

His head snaps at Hongjoong at the suggestion, disbelief writing on his face “I love you guys but the Yunho protection squad needs to dissolve right now, everything’s fine!”

“Is it?” Mingi asks and Yunho takes his time to look at his best friend before nodding.

“It is. We're supposed to break up eventually anyway,” air leaves his lungs in a long sigh and then he gulps a little, not really sure how to say what he wants to say without offending anyone. And Gyuri's hands are still on him, so the pressure doubles at the potential threat of physical harm that his next statement can get him. “Listen, I won't make any of you sign nda’s or anything like that because I trust you but please, please don't tell anyone this.”

He looks around the room and sees wide eyes before they turn understanding and when his friends nod in agreement, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders.

Literally, Gyuri moves to sit next to Wooyoung who tries to put an arm around her and fails.

“You're not that famous, Yunho,” Hongjoong kisses his teeth and the mood shifts into the lighthearted one he's used to “Unlike me. I'm a celebrity among my peers.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes “Yeah, because all the criminals turned music students turn guitarists of a nugu rock band worship you.”

Hongjoong ignores him but his smile is tense and his eyes are squinted in fake joy when he speaks again “You are going to the gig tomorrow, right?”

He laughs “Of course. I might be a little late but I'll get to see your set.”

Hongjoong frowns “Why?”

“I have a schedule now, so…”

“Oh, my God,” San’s girlfriend squeaks, typing something in her phone and Yunho catches his friend fondly following with his eyes the sentences she's putting together “And what else do you have to do now?”

“Babe, I hope you're not writing a story about this.” Gyuri warns but her friend ignores her and turns to Seonghwa.

Who realizes right away what she's doing, gaping at her and her betrayal with feign hurt. Yunho gets it a second later and his lips curve upwards a little.

“And what did you do to get a girlfriend so fast? It was the motorcycle, wasn't it?”

Wooyoung gasps and Gyuri seems to remember suddenly that there were two important subjects to dissect on the table today, so she gets up again with her hands on her hips and stares at him like a distressed mother.

“What the hell were you thinking, Park Seonghwa? Girlfriend? You met her yesterday!”

“Three days ago, but yes, maybe—”

“Oh, three days ago! That's an eternity in dog years, right? Are you a dog, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa’s eyes practically meet the back of his head and Yunho has to stifle a laugh “Not a dog, Gyuri, just a guy.”

She pauses and then makes a face.

“That… Actually makes a lot of sense.”

“We made the mistake of calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend way too soon. But, to be fair, his text messages woke us up,” Seonghwa's finger is pointing to Yunho and he pouts as a response “Kind of, so we were sleepy and—”

“Sure, let's hang out tonight so you can meet my girlfriend,” Hongjoong reads directly from his phone and shakes his head. Yunho can't actually tell if he's offended or not “Not even a warning first.”

“I literally told you about her and you told me to go for it.”

“Did I?”

“Yeosang was there.”

At the mention of his name, Yeosang looks up from his phone and smiles shyly at the oldest two “Correct.”

There's a bit of silence and then Hwa clears his throat softly.

“She's going to be my girlfriend though,” he says, almost in a whisper but everyone hears him “So I don't know what the big deal is.”

Wooyoung slumps from the couch to the ground with his eyes closed in defeat “Oh, dear God.”

“The big deal is that—”

Gyuri's voice fades to the background and he catches Hwa telling her that she's not his mother or something before tuning the discussion out.

When he turns to his left, Mingi is still eyeing him to make sure he's okay. Yunho nods and smiles and then offers his hand to him, which he takes.

Mingi's girlfriend turned off the laptop and is watching the interaction with a tiny contempt curve to her lips and, when Yunho catches a glimpse at San’s girlfriend from behind his friends built form (she's completely hiding behind him from all the chaos Gyuri is bringing to the living room), she catches his eye and then blinks one of hers in complicity.

Again, Yunho wonders what she knows that he doesn't.

But with the attention off of him, your face returns to his head.

So he's not really able to concentrate on anything else for the remainder of the hang out. When he finally, finally has his mind occupied by something else (San dared him to beat him at Mario Kart and Jongho brought food and drinks as an apology for completing his academic duties instead of showing up to the meeting), a text pops up from an unknown number.

+82-5-059-6733: Hey. Added your number from that stupid group chat our brothers made because telling each other things through our assistants makes me physically ill, hope you don't mind. +82-5-059-6733: Actually, I don't really care if you mind. If you block me, I'll find another phone to text you on. +82-5-059-6733: Anyway, I'll send you the address of where we're going fashionably late tonight. It's an early drive so you're free to skip this (Do skip it please). +82-5-059-6733: Jeong Yunho, do not ignore me or I swear to God…

He hates that, after reading his home screen, he has a smile on his lips. You sound both formal and pushy through text, too and he didn't think it was possible to have so much personality that it filters through writing as well. He's finding out new things about you and, although he made it a point to ask you to get along yesterday, it still feels really weird to do so.

When he turns to the screen again, he's down a few spots and San’s character speeds besides his in its kart.

“Is it her?” San asks, looking at him for a second, a knowing smile on his lips.

“It is but I'm not smiling because it's her,” he defends himself but there's a tint to his cheeks that might give him away. San laughs “Shut up. Your girlfriend’s schemes are rubbing on you.”

At the mention, he catches through the corner of his eye as his friend turns to the mentioned girl and Yunho smiles again before he hears him sigh, completely and utterly in love.

“Thank God.”

He recovers on the game while San is distracted, passing him and winning the race. The sound of it ending makes San snap his head back and watch as Yunho relaxes on the couch in egotistical victory.

“Ugh.”

The sun is shining through the clouds even though it was supposed to rain again. There's a singular gray one moving ominously among the other ones and threatening to mess up what you planned for the day.

It suspiciously moves past you and into the city when Yunho's car pulls up the hill. By the time he gets down, the sun is shining in full force and you roll your eyes when he regards you and your closed arms with a wink.

What does he gain out of this? You've been wondering since that night if coming here is better than staying at home for the weekend.

He could stay at his dorm, though. Is that an option? The curiosity you feel towards him now has completely taken over. It feels disgusting.

Either way, you hate that he actually showed up. That means someone, somewhere around you, is going to casually document the thing you kept to yourself for a long time. No because it's a secret but because there's no real need for anyone to know that you do this.

Your presence on social media is scarce, you have one open account that you use every six months (if you remember to use it at all) and the one you stalk people of your circle on. You have a twitter account that's private and not under your real name, a youtube account that doesn't really count as social media in your eyes and nothing else.

No one needs to know you do these sorts of things. Then, you wouldn't be doing it out of the kindness of your heart but to get sympathy points. Even though you'll always do it because you want to and not because you have to.

There's a lot of things you have to do, like your relationship with Yunho, but never this.

You know it's only like five out of one hundred people who wish you ill but those few people are enough to tarnish the affection the kids have for you, the trust you worked so hard to gain the few years you've been trying to make this orphanage somewhat quality-of-life acceptable.

You stumbled upon it one of those drunk early mornings where you had to walk around to get the alcohol out of your system before even daring showing up home or near it. Not because your family didn't know what you were up to, but because of the possible photographers roaming around the house.

A drunk underage daughter was worse than anything back then. Maybe it is now, too, but you remembered the mistake you made the first time you got drunk and the absolute reaping your mother gave you.

So when you locked eyes with a middle aged woman in the middle of nowhere after walking around half an hour before in heels, your almost-sober self pretended to be lost just to talk to someone and feel safe. The sun was barely showing that day and you were cold and sad and angry for not controlling yourself at the party and it must've shown in your face because you saw the woman taking a deep breath before offering you to step inside.

At that hour, the kids were asleep. There were traces of them everywhere, though and you remember the way your heart sank at the lifeness of the space even in the still hours of the morning.

It looked lived in, enjoyable and cozy. You never had that. Toys were put back in their place the second you got distracted by the tv or a book or when your mother said that was enough playing around for the day. Your room was always neat and tidy, put together and devoid of any evidence that you were real.

That has changed a little now, but back then seeing something you didn't have struck something within you. There was obviously no way you would complain about it out loud, though.

You had everything solved, your struggle has always been insignificant when compared with everyone else outside of your circle. It's fine, it's always been fine and the tears brought to your eyes when the middle aged woman put a hand on your shoulder and consoled you when she saw the environment was affecting you meant nothing.

You tried to convince yourself they meant nothing and tried to keep your heart where it belonged: inside of your tinsel bubble, frozen and harsh so that no one takes advantage of you.

And then she managed to melt the ice not even five minutes into explaining what it was that they did there. She said her position wasn't permanent, that the district kept changing directors and that the quality of life they were able to give to the kids was acceptable at best. Not good, not what they deserved.

Maybe that was the first time you took advantage of your privilege for something good. Because next thing you knew, you were putting together a presentation and pressing your father to do something about the home.

Your mother was scandalized but she agreed to do something with your ideas if your brother was put on the front of the newspapers, inaugurating the renovations made to the place.

Saturdays have been destined to the orphanage since then. They know not to put anything else on your schedule for the day, they know not to film you or send photographers per your request. Because your brother was already seen making the good deed a few years ago, so there's not really a way to take advantage of this anymore.

Besides, the district still manages it and no amount of volunteering can help the fact that its administration and the decisions that they make are as dumb as you believing for a second that Yunho was going to take your advice and stay home today.

Yunho being here changes things, you know it does. Why did they put this in his new schedule if not? You thought it was a punishment for him but now you're not so sure.

There's lack of movement, lack of press, lack of your mother's touch to it so you wonder what's the angle here. And, as usual, Yunho seems to be in the dark about the things plaguing your mind.

You point at his outfit in retaliation when he gets near you and your mother’s assistant, who became yours for the day.

“Is this what you could put together with such a long notice?”

“You said casual.”

“And this is your casual?”

At some point these past few days, and after seeing all the pictures of you two together at the gala, you came to terms with Yunho’s attractiveness. Objectively, he's a handsome guy. His dad was handsome at one point, his mom is absolutely breathtaking and his brother is handsome as well. They're just a family of naturally physically gifted people, alright?

But it is kind of unfair that he can look this good in flared jeans and a white fitted shirt, for fucks sake. He looks like he just got out of a Calvin Klein shoot… If the shoot was somehow made in the seventies. The black belt and the black boots with a tiny platform he's wearing add to the whole look and your eye twitches a little.

He looks really fucking cool, actually but there's no way in hell you would ever accept that. Handsome? Sure. Cool? Your mind is tricking you somehow.

It's that warmth that invaded your body when he made you food a few nights ago making you think nonsense. You want to desperately get rid of it.

He scoffs but a tiny smile tugs at his lips when he looks you up and down “Is this yours?”

Looking down at your wide leg trousers, your kitty heels and your short sleeved cotton top, you fail to see where the problem is.

“Duh.”

He whistles, low and for a few seconds and for a moment you think he's doing it because of you and your heart beats erratically until you realize his eyes are fixed on the orphanage.

You smile a little.

These past few years you've been able to get funding and provide funding to it, so the renovations just keep coming and coming. It doesn't look like the one you found refuge on that morning a few years ago at all and it definitely doesn't look like the one your brother had the chance to be photographed with either.

Right now, it has a little bit of your touch: It looks like an elegant structure, but a building that's also suitable for children to be in. It has a playground vibe to it, the exterior and the design of the new entrance you approved a few months ago only solidifies it.

The kids love it. You didn't exactly run the design through them but it would've shown if they didn't.

They're very expressive, but decisive too. Bossy, even. You look at Yunho and you want to smile fully because he simply doesn't know what he got himself into.

That proves to be true as the hours go by. The kids raise their eyebrows when they meet him, say hi to him with a bow and then turn to you for explanations. When you say that this is a new friend that's going to be helping out that day, you don't miss the way Yunho lights up a bit besides you.

And then that light is completely stolen by hour three, you see it as he chases kids around the yard. It hurts that they acclimated so fast to him but, again, when you got there the first time the place wasn't really one where they felt completely safe.

This proves that you helped change that. Good.

There's a few of them, the older ones, that sit on the ground and stare daggers at Yunho like he's going to hurt the younger kids at any moment. These kids were practically toddlers when you met them and they had a hard time being around you when you started to show up regularly.

They barely spoke a word and, when they did, they yelled at you for not playing with the toys like you were supposed to, or because you looked too clean and too pretty to be messing with paint or something of the sort.

It took months for you to build that trust and now the oldest is a tween with shaggy hair and a scowl on his face because he thinks of Yunho the same way he thought of you when he was just a kid.

He barely notices when you crouch next to him, the hand you put on his shoulder making him jump slightly.

“I understand the feeling of wanting to punch Yunho in the face,” you start, smiling and then tilting your head a little “but you're going to burn a hole on his back if you keep staring at him like that, Hyunjoon.”

“Then why did you bring him here?” His frown deepens and you shrug “We were just fine with everything here and now there's a stranger playing tag with my little brother,” he shakes his head “I don't like it.”

Sighing and then turning to Yunho, you see the exact moment his attempts to escape Haejoon, Hyunjoon’s little brother, are sabotaged by Hyunjoon’s best friend, Soyi.

“I think you're a little jealous.”

“What?”

You want to laugh when his head snaps at you, chest heaving in preteen anger at the word jealous.

“Yeah, not because he's playing with Haejoon but because Soyi is there too,” you shrug again, readjusting your crouching position because it hurts your legs but there's no way you're sitting on the ground “You like her, Yunho is handsome and you're jealous.”

He turns away from you and you laugh when he makes a disgusted face that then turns into mild discomfort and ends up being a full pout.

“We're fighting.”

“You and Soyi?” He nods and you sigh “What is it now?”

“I dunno.” He murmurs with a shrug.

“Are you sure?”

“I don't know what I did! Okay?”

There's this uncharacteristically amount of patience you have when it comes to these kids that don't run out even if they yell at you and cause a few heads to turn your way. It never really bothers you except today, when you know there's possibly someone monitoring your movements.

Yunho’s assistant, most likely. You know yours is compliant and doesn't really give a fuck about what goes on here, her focus on her tablet the whole time, probably arranging things for her actual boss (your mom).

“Have you asked her?” He shakes his head “Then maybe start by asking her, later today if you want,” you rush to clarify when you see him tense up at the idea “Or tomorrow or the next day but don't let silly things get in the way of your friendship with her, hm?”

His pout returns and his eyes start to water a little but before you have the opportunity to make him laugh the sadness away, someone jogs towards you both.

“Everything alright?”

Yunho’s sweating, he's out of breath and squinting his eyes because of the sunlight and it reminds you of when you used to cross paths during recess, back in highschool.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Hyunjoon sulks and scoffs at him and, once again, you suppress your laughter.

“We're fine. Did you need something?”

“No, no, Soyi just asked me to—” He stops when Hyunjoon's reaction gives away the root of his sulking and you see him glance at you once. You don't give Hyunjoon secrets away, though. “She asked me to tell you that she's going to start counting in two minutes and you are both obligated to play.”

“Ah, yes, the mandatory hide and seek of the day.” You nod and watch as Hyunjoon's eyebrows raise in interest “Tell her it's okay, that she can start counting now.”

Yunho raises his eyebrows as well, curiosity on his face “And you're hiding too?”

“It's mandatory, Yunho. Do you know what mandatory means?”

He clicks his tongue “I obviously do, Y/N, it was a simple question. Do you have to—”

“Don't speak to her like that, ahjussi!”

Once again, Yunho is interrupted by Hyunjoon and this time you can't help but laugh at the pure shock on his face. It warms your heart that a kid that was once so reluctant to have you around is defending you and you think your expression might give the feeling away because Yunho says nothing in return, just nods once and then presses his lips together, fighting a smile “I'll go tell her, then.”

“No!” Hyunjoon gets up quickly and you do too, your legs and feet thanking you “I'll do it, she's my best friend.”

It's the threatening (and very cute) look Hyunjoon sends in Yunho’s direction before sprinting towards Soyi and his brother that breaks the both of you into giggles.

Only when your laughter dies down is that you turn to Yunho, arms crossed as you look him up and down to assess the real damage caused these first few hours.

No other reason.

“Thought you said these kids were tough.”

You shrug and he smiles “They are but you came here with me, so they're going easy on you.”

“Yeah, I'm sure that's it.” Yunho nods and then turns over his shoulder. You do too, only to find Soyi with her hands over her eyes and counting already “Better don't get caught first, Kim.”

Walking towards the spot you usually hide in when it's mandatory hide and seek time, you bump your arm with his in not-so-fake animosity.

“You better not get caught, Jeong.”

“Is that a dare?” He yells when you're almost out of reach.

“I don't know,” you yell back “Is it?”

You miss the way his eyes follow you until you're out of frame, until some kid whose name he doesn't remember grabs his hand and pushes him to hide because he stood in place long enough to almost get caught first.

You do get caught in the first round but not before Yunho, so you count that as a win. The second round is trickier, Soyi banning some hiding spots like the natural leader she is, and so you get caught before Yunho. He does a little celebratory dance when he sees you in the yard before him. Ass.

There's only one round left before they call everyone to clean up for lunch.

Moving through the orphanage halls, you walk down the stairs that lead to the staff rooms before choosing one you know kids would not check if they don't caught you in plain sight: It's the one that has some panel windows on top of some lockers, to bring in some natural lighting because it was used as a classroom before.

Now, only boxes and dust live down there. But if you hide in the corner, there's no way you're getting caught before Yunho.

You checked when you were upstairs.

You giggle to yourself as you rest your back against the corner, taking your phone and unlocking it to find something to do while you await your very predictable victory in this pointless battle you and Yunho have going on.

Only for it to be crushed when he enters the room and closes the door behind it. See, you obviously didn't lock it because that defeats the rules of the game.

But maybe you should've.

“Get out.”

He seems startled when he hears your voice, clearly not expecting another soul to be there. “You blend so well into the wall, Y/N.”

You don't bite the bait “Yunho, you're going to get both of us caught. Get. Out.”

“How? I literally fit in here, too.”

He gets into your space, a petty smile on his lips until your backside is completely flat against the wall.

You let out an indignant laugh and a breath at the same time because, from where you're shoved into the corner, he looks so dumb.

And then the sunlight shifts a little and lands on his shoulder and you get reminded: You're going to get caught and it's going to be his fault.

You want to yell at him to get out again but then hear laughter near the panel windows, so you whisper-shout instead “Find your own hiding spot, Yunho!”

“I got kicked out of my last one!” He whispers-shouts back.

“Well you can't have this one either!”

“We're going to be fine, Y/N,” he tries but at your scowl he laughs again “I'm perfectly hidden here and I'm hiding you.”

“You're not perfectly hidden, idiot! You're like…” You move your hands, trying to replicate the broadness of his shoulders “You're huge.”

“Yeah?” He seems pleased by your words and your eyes rolls on their own accord “I've been hitting the gym, so I'm glad it's showi—”

“I don't care, get out!”

You hear a scream and then laughter that follows it outside of the windows and your wide eyes peek around a little behind Yunho’s form to see what's going on.

There, rolling on the grass and laughing hard, are Hyunjoon and Soyi. You see when she pushes him further into the ground and away from her, smiling like she usually does. She did seem a little sad today and you wondered why without intruding.

Learning about the fight made things click in your head and so now you're smiling wide because they potentially made up.

The sound of someone gulping is what brings you back to reality and you crane your head up to catch Yunho staring at you with parted lips and soft eyes. Somewhere in the process of looking out of the panels, you ended up leaning into him and bracing yourself with your hand on his arm.

You quickly keep your hands to yourself again, pushing your body into the corner one more time.

“Sorry,” you say right away “I was just… They like each other and they were fighting today so I'm glad they, um…” You trail off.

“Are not fighting anymore?” Yunho says for you and you're nodding frantically before you can help it “You seem better today.”

“Oh,” that catches you off guard and he notices, “It's never… It's never really as bad as what you saw a few days ago. You don't have to ask me about it.”

“I didn't mean to… I was pointing it out to say that you seem different here.”

“Different how?”

“Relaxed,” he says right away with a shrug. “Less… Hostile.”

You get what he's trying to imply.

“I can't really be a stuck up bitch when I'm surrounded by children, Yunho.”

“Never said you were one.”

Your eyes squint “But you were thinking it.”

He doesn't back down at your accusation “I swear I wasn't. You could see it, too, if you stopped being so… defensive.”

“I'm trying,” you kind of speak over him as he is finishing his sentence, your arms crossing in, well, defense “but your fugly jeans are provoking me.”

This time around, he's the one that doesn't bite the bait. He smiles, leaning into your space with purpose this time; not because the corner you're both hiding in is small, not because he forgets who you both are. You can see it in his eyes that he means to do it. It's scary.

It's really not scary at all and it brings thoughts to your head that you need to put away immediately.

You pretend it's bothering you, creasing your brows in order to bring to your expression the usual disgust you feel for him.

“You like my outfit, I saw you checking me out earlier.” He murmurs like it's the most obvious thing ever. You, on the other hand, think you did a great job in concealing your staring for the day.

“I was judging you, not checking you out. You look like a hippie.”

He smiles but doesn't lean back at all “I have something to do tonight.”

“So I heard,” and now you look over his outfit on purpose, as well “This fit is definitely a choice.”

The usual spark that the arguments you two are used to have is there, but the actual nastiness and loathing of it all is mostly gone. Now, there's this weird pull that nudges you forward, your jaw set softly as you wait for his response.

“It's a rock concert, I have to look the part.”

You laugh and then nod “And so you dressed up as a greaser. Got it.”

“So I look like John Travolta in Grease?”

“More like Barry Pearl.”

He scoffs “Who even is that?”

“Exactly.”

Your smile is nothing but pure bliss at the way you seem to get under his skin with that one. The anger crosses his expression, his eyes widen a little before roaming your face and you wait for his comeback.

And wait.

But it never comes. Instead, he leans in a fraction more than what your sanity can handle and keeps his voice low when he changes the subject.

“I had the opportunity to speak to Jiwoo earlier…” He starts and you nod, expectant and a little distracted by the smell of his cologne. “She told me everything you've been doing for this place. I had to ask her because you didn't tell me.”

“You didn't ask.”

“Would you have told me if I did?”

It takes a second and a tiny smile, but you shake your head and he clicks his tongue.

“See?”

“I wasn't expecting you to show up in the first place,” you murmur back in your defense, sincerely, “and I'm not used to people seeing this part of my life.”

Laughter and hurried steps outside remind you that you're in the middle of a game, in the middle of a dare with Yunho, too. But it doesn't seem to matter anymore.

This is a weird way of having a genuine conversation, an odd place to have it in as well but there's nothing conventional about your relationship with Yunho.

In a way, it's kind of fitting for you two.

“Well, you got great reviews.”

“Do I?”

“Mhm, Jiwoo said she was about to be sent away when you stepped in,” he starts to recall, nodding to himself “Soyi also said she met you when she was little and that you were there when Hyunjoon and his brother got here for the first time,” this time, you nod and a tiny smile tugs at your lips at the memory “And I saw the way you were looking at the kids earlier, how you spoke to them… That's why I told you that you seem different here.”

It's your turn to gulp and blink a few times, trying to measure your words. You know that you and him came to an agreement the other night, but it's still a little hard to be fully honest with someone you've tried to be so superficial and distant for a very long time.

“I'm happy here,” you whisper back, taking in a breath. “I'm happy when I'm helping, it makes me feel…” You trail off, failing to find the right words.

“Purposeful?” Yunho offers and your heart beats loudly at that, your stomach sinks at how accurate that is and he can see it in your expression, because he takes in a breath himself and closes his eyes for a millisecond “I understand.”

You want to ask him how he understands it. Is it simply because it's something easy to grasp? Is it because he relates in some way? The breach in between you became a simple line the night of the gala and that line blurs the longer you stay amicable with him.

It's dangerous because you can already picture him going away when this whole charade ends.

You don't want to get used to the feeling of him making your heart beat this way.

And hopefully you can forget all about it with the usual meal related anxiety you feel but even that is dull. It's not as bad here and Yunho knows so it's not going to be as bad with him either. Fucking great.

If you someone would just interrupt yo—

There's a knocking, persistent and that allows you to step away from him finally and glance at the panel windows one more time.

Soyi and Hyunjoon are lying on their stomach, smiling knowingly like they understand what is going on in your head. Yunho steps out and they pretend to be surprised but you can tell they were expecting to see him here.

“The game finished like five minutes ago.” Hyunjoon says and it's muffled by the glass but you can make it out just fine.

Soyi nods and joins in, adding something as she stands up “Yeah, it's lunch time and if you don't hurry I'm stealing your food!”

At that, Yunho seems to react like he's a child himself “Don't even think about it!” He yells back, heading for the door and leaving you there with an erratic heartbeat and questions.

Thirty seconds pass before you hear him again, his laugh this time and you close your eyes because the curve of your lips needs to go away before you step out there as well.

Three more hours pass and at some point you don't see Yunho at all, letting him do his thing.

Turns out, he's actually very good with kids. Considering he was a weird kid himself, you don't even find it weird that he's sitting on the grass with a worm in his hand and kids circling him like he's giving a masterclass.

Kind of like they were circling you fifteen minutes ago, when you gave them a little painting advice. You started on a small canvas and your paint strokes look tired, probably because you feel that way, but you use it to pass the time even if their interest is now elsewhere.

They have art classes here, you insisted on including them in their pensum as something mandatory, like science and maths.

They enjoy it. A few of them want to pursue art in the future and that makes you really happy, even if you probably won't be around to see it or if they change their opinions along the way because, as dumb as it sounds, you were never encouraged by anyone to pursue what you liked.

Maybe, sometimes that's enough. Planting the seed to wait and see if it grows into something fructiferous in the future can be what some of these kids need.

Aside from resources and opportunities, of course.

There's less activity in the room you're in and you're sure it's because the kids are tired. They're taking naps in their rooms, they're washing up for the night and you're dreading leaving this place. Your shirt it's dirty, there's paint on your arms and dirt under your nails and you don't want to catch the disgusted look your mother is going to give you when you get home.

You fuck up the painting a little bit. Lost in thought, you barely notice when Yunho makes his way inside from the garden, a little girl secured around his neck like he's her father or something. You barely spare him a glance, but smile at her when he sits down besides you and she opens her arms and clings to you instead.

Leaving the brush and canvas forgotten on the table, you make space for the seven year old in your lap “Hi, gorgeous.” you smile at her and her sleepy eyes “Did you have fun today, Jaemi?” And at her name, she punches you softly in the arm with her little fist.

You're afraid she's too tired to commit to the bit.

“Jaemi,” Yunho nods beside you and you look at him, “she didn't want to tell me her name.”

“Then that's totally not her name,” you correct yourself and Jaemi smiles, sticking her tongue out to Yunho afterwards “Did you have fun?” You insist.

“Yes, he was teaching us something about…” she pouts in concentration, trying to remember “Crickets?” she offers with her little lisp, turning to Yunho to confirm her words.

“Cicadas.”

“Yeah, that.” She turns to you, nodding “He said that they sing when it's about to rain and that made me happy but then he said that they also sing when they're about to die and that made me sad.”

Looking at Yunho, you let him know with your expression that that's not something kids need to know. He just shrugs, smile growing when he sees how Jaemi hides on your neck, sleepy and comfortable.

“And I told him what you told me about the worms,” she murmurs there and you pat her back, softly, but trying to tell her to stop talking. There's an embarrassed glow on your cheeks at what she says next “and he told me that he was the one who taught you that.”

Eyes wide, you huff out a laugh and then clear your throat, but Jaemi speaks through her pout before you defend yourself “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Oh,” her question is not weird but you've been avoiding answering it all day. Right now, there's not really a way you can evade it, so you just focus on your painting and nod “He is.”

“He's smart,” she mumbles and when your eyes land on Yunho again, his cheek is pressed to his forearm that is pressed against the table. He's looking at you both with stars in his eyes and you want to kick him under the table “Like you. I want my future mom and dad to be like you.”

Yunho pouts and you gulp, defensiveness abandoning your body and emotions swirling inside at the sweet, hopeful color of Jaemi’s voice.

“People here are going to make sure of that, Jaemi,” you assure her in a whisper and by the time you rock her softly in your arms, you can tell she's asleep in them “I'll make sure you get the best mom and dad in the world, hm?”

You don't know if you can keep your promise. If there's enough will for you to do it, if it's up to you to decide it. But you don't get to dwell on it for long.

“Is she out?” Jiwoo asks and you nod, sliding back with your chair a little so that she can take Jaemi in her arms instead “I'll get her to the nap room. Sorry about that.”

“It's okay.” You smile at her and she puts a comforting hand on your arm, shaking you a little on your seat before heading for the nap room.

You don't dare to look at Yunho after that. Yeah, he saw your mother belittling you and, yeah, he made you food and wiped away your tears after having a panic attack… But that might've been the most vulnerable Yunho has ever seen you. Maybe. It felt like it, anyway.

Returning to your painting, you forget what the orange blob in the corner of the canvas is supposed to be. From the corner of your eye, you catch Yunho staring at you still, unmoving from his position against the table.

“How dare you steal my earth friends facts, Kim Y/N.”

“You mean the facts about worms everyone learns in kindergarten, Yunho?” You scoff “Didn't know you trademarked them.”

“You enjoy painting.” He says, a fact not a question, ignoring your jab at him and it's starting to get a little annoying how he changes topics so fast.

“I'm not very good at it.”

He gets up, scoots his chair closer to yours and you catch as his eyes move up and down your stupid painting “I don't agree.”

“I didn't ask,” huffing, you squint your eyes at him and at your tone he rolls his eyes “Don't you have a concert to get to?”

“Yeah, you should go with me.”

That's hilarious.

“I'm afraid I'm a little underdressed,” you tell him and you think he wants to laugh, but presses his lips together and pretends to be offended at your words instead. You lean into the table, your eyes following his mouth as he stops pursing his lips, a tiny smile tugging on yours. “And I don't feel like pretending to be your girlfriend today anymore.” You whisper to only him.

“You won't have to,” he whispers back, leaning in as well, “they know.”

“What? You told them?”

“They kind of figured it out.”

“Hm, because you have no bitc—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupts you, annoyed and you laugh, leaning back in your chair “Come with me. I saw your car outside,” he smiles and bats his eyelashes at you “I don't want my mother to know where I'm going, so you can drive me.”

“Ah, that's why you want me to go.”

“I also want to hang out with you,” his hand on your arm doesn't startle you but it does send sparks down your spine, his words causing your chest to go warm and your walls to go down “I thought we were doing that today and then I got kidnapped by eight year olds.”

There's this image of Yunho that flashes through your head, the one of him running around the yard with people so dear to your heart that it makes the poor organ beat erratically for the second time today.

Deflect.

“And you managed to keep your ugly outfit clean. I'm impressed.”

He lets out a tired breath.

Deflect. Ignore. Don't let it fool you, Y/N, he's not staying this cordial forever.

However, you think that as a thank you you can give in a little. Just a tiny bit. Just for tonight.

“Do they have parking?”

Yunho smiles wide.

You would never admit you actually want to hang out with him, too, so instead you just say:

“I'm driving you and then I'm staying for an hour,” he claps and gets up suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your chair as well “And if I don't like it there, I'm leaving.”

He looks like he wants to say something but, instead, he just shakes your twined hands with excitement before letting go at the realization of what he's doing.

“You might want to go to the bathroom first.”

“Why? Where is the concert?”

He says nothing.

“Jeong Yunho… Where are we going?”

They do not have parking. Not near the musty bar you're currently trying to make your way into, anyway.

Yunho shows something on his phone to the bouncer at the entrance and then turns to you “My girlfriend,” he says, grabbing your hand again and opening his eyes at you as a signal to go along with his lie “She's also invited, obviously.”

So long for not pretending to be together, huh?

You nod and you kind wish you didn't because it leads you to a small space with a crowd that's bigger than what it can host. There's heavy drums and amazing vocals coming out of the speakers and you actually recognize the guitarist of the band that's playing. You don't know his name, but you definitely saw him in pictures with Yunho before.

Grabbing Yunho’s arm when he lets go of your hand, it grants you the brief grace of his stare.

“I'm sorry about that,” he says and then his eyes are on the stage again, smiling at the band. His height works wonders because you can tell he's actually able to see them fully and the next second you're being pulled across the crowd and up some stairs “They didn't expect me to come here with anyone tonight… And don't say it's because I have no game, Y/N, or I swear—”

“You made it!”

When you let go of Yunho’s arm and stand shyly behind him as they let the both of you into the very humble vip area of this bar, it's like the pictures you've been staring at for months come to life. You don't know names (only Park Seonghwa’s, who's glued to the balcony’s rail, jamming along to the music) but you do know their faces.

This girl that greeted Yunho with a hug just now it's in almost every picture, smiling just like that. And when she turns at you, that smile disappears and it's replaced with one that's not genuine at all.

Great.

“Oh, hi to you too,” she says and her eyes alternate between you and Yunho “I didn't know you were bringing your fake girlfriend tonight.”

You don't know why, but the way she says it ticks you a little bit.

“Yeah, me neither,” Yunho’s arm is around your shoulders now and you have to fight the urge to shove him away, like a second instinct “This is Y/N, Y/N this is Gyuri.”

“It's nice to meet you,” returning her energy, you smile coldly at her too, “I've heard nothing about you.”

Yunho's hip connects with yours in a silent warning.

But instead of the usual hypocrisy you're met inside the crowd you move in, you're greeted with something genuine: At your response, Gyuri looks you up and down for what feels like a minute and a half and then that fake smile turns into a genuine one.

“Okay, I get you,” she nods, laughing to herself when she turns to Yunho. You do too and the color has been drained from his face, at least a little bit “I'm glad you're here. I guess it is meet my girlfriend night,” her head cocks to the side, to where Seonghwa stands and you're a little relieved you don't have to ask what she's talking about when, besides him, you see the mechanic you didn't get to meet earlier this week. She turns to you again “Do you want a drink?”

“Oh, I'm driving, um…” You look at Yunho “I don't know if you—”

“No, let's not drink tonight, though if you want to we can call—”

“No, that's not necessary, I don't feel like—” He interrupts with a nod.

“Gotcha.”

The nervousness is palpable and, although you didn't really feel anything the hour and a half it took you two to get to the bar (Yunho didn't really let you, bickering with you about your driving or the decor of the car or the tinted windows or whatever he could think of to annoy you), but now you you notice it.

The way Yunho's fingers tap on your arm, his around your shoulders still. The way he doesn't really know what to say when you both turn to Gyuri after speaking over each other like that and the way you can't bring yourself to be hostile to him in front of his friends.

It's a little pathetic. You think Gyuri thinks so too, and the long-haired guy next to her as well because they're staring at you stoically, unmoving.

“So I'm taking that as a no but I need a drink now. If y'all excuse me…”

“H-hi, Woo.”

“I thought we got rid of this when San and Babe got together,” he sighs as Gyuri turns around and leaves for a table, offering you his hand with a wink. You can tell he's a little drunk but the way he shakes your hand brings out a genuine giggle out of you “I’m Wooyoung, Yunho’s best friend. I bet he already told you that, though.”

No, you want to tell him, you and him haven't been able to talk like that yet. Even after knowing him for over ten years and spending holidays together, you don't know his best friend's name at all.

And you start to nod just to skip explaining that but Yunho speaks and ruins your plans.

“Mingi is going to kill you if he hears you say that.”

“Say what?” A tall man stands next to Yunho and only when he hugs his shoulders is that Yunho lets go of you “Are you talking shit about me, Woo?”

Wooyoung genuinely sulks“I wouldn't dare, Mingi.”

“You must be Y/N,” Mingi ignores him and you want to laugh at the expression he makes in return, but you busy yourself taking the hand that Mingi's offering “I've heard so much about you in the last forty eight hours.”

“All terrible things, I'm hoping.”

“Well—”

“Okay, okay,” Yunho pushes him away and takes your arm again, giving his actual best friend a look “Let me introduce you to everyone else before Wooyoung makes a scene for the night.”

Over your laugh, you hear a faint gasp and a I don't ever make scenes! shouted on Wooyoung’s side of the room.

You were never shy but you fall a little quiet in the middle of these strangers because the one thing you realized right away is that there's no actual need to pretend here, in the dim light and with people who don't give a fuck if your posture isn't perfect or that you're not making small talk.

It's a little freeing.

That weight falls off your shoulders and you kind of get why Yunho is a little clueless about how things work in your world after talking to San and Mingi’s girlfriends for a little.

It truly takes everything in you to keep everything you share about yourself in shallow waters.

You tell them things they might've already known, things that can be found online about you. You tell them that you met Yunho when you were little, you tell them about your job when the girl that Park Seognhwa chose above going to the gala with you joins and then you direct the conversation to her instead of you.

They tell you about Yunho’s college life, the parties and the embarrassing moments that you've missed all while he talks with his friends about something, all against the vip balcony railing while they watch the band perform. Gyuri is there too, arm to arm with Wooyoung and they tell you they used to be together.

It shows, especially when you get up to join Yunho and watch the performance and she snuggles a bit closer to Wooyoung to make space for you.

Even if there's plenty of space already.

He looks at you when you bump into him, smiling and leaning into your space a bit to talk over the music “There you are. I thought I lost you to girl talk!”

You roll your eyes.

“Your friend's are nice.”

“Normal people usually are, Y/N.”

Scoffing, you focus on the main vocal of the band. The only girl up on the stage, too and you convince yourself that's more interesting than the way Yunho seems to sparkle when he's with his people “Well, that explains why you're everything but nice.”

He laughs “I am nice, just not to you.”

“No, yeah, trust me, I know.”

“You seem quiet around them,” he turns to look at the girls for a brief moment “And you're usually, obnoxiously loud. Everything alright?”

You know he's asking about your panic attacks. Yes, you feel fine. You took your pills with your lunch and, considering the small space you're at gives you brief anxiety, mixed with the general nervousness of being with people you don't know, it could be worse.

But, like you said, his friends are nice.

You don't exactly fit in this group, but they make you believe you're a part of them at least for a little while and you know your friends, or the people you usually hang out with when you go out, wouldn't give a stranger the chance if presented with it.

“I'm fine, I'm just… Intimidated.”

“You just said they are nice, Y/N.”

“And they're all very good looking, which is unfair and nerve wracking,” you add with a scoff and hear him giggle before you turn to him again. “You said you wanted to hang out with me but it's been forty minutes and you barely said anything,” you give him a look, “so you just wanted the ride, hm? Asshole.”

“Needy,” he returns, pushing you with his arm, “I also wanted you to meet them. They're a huge part of who I am and I know it’s not this way for everybody, but I do believe you can gather who someone is if you meet the people they surround themselves with.”

What does that say about me, is what you want to tell him and then his words from a second ago cross your mind.

It's not this way for everybody.

He knows and there's something so deeply fucked up about his understanding of you because is not supposed to be this way. You hate Yunho, he hates you and keeping each other at arm's length has always been the norm.

It baffles you how quickly he can leave his preconceptions of you behind and open the door to his comfy bubble, invite you in and make you feel welcomed where you otherwise don't belong.

He understands. It makes you smile and he smiles back, close to you both physically and emotionally, and so you're sure you don't need to add anything to this moment you two are having.

Instead, you shake your head “I don't know why they hang out with you, then,” you turn to the stage one more time and there’s some tension between the band all of the sudden. You don't ask, Yunho is not paying attention to them right now anyway “I still think you wanted the free ride. Send me the gas money when you get home.”

“When you take me home.”

“No, you're walking back,” your fingers take a hold of his forearm, pinching it and gaining an exaggerated reaction to the mild pain it causes back from him “asshole.”

“And get him again for me!” Wooyoung shouts to your left and you both turn to see almost everyone staring at you.

It's almost enough to make your cheeks burn. Almost.

When it's almost time for you to go home (the hour you said you were staying turned to two hours) and the band gets down the stage, Seonghwa sits beside you.

“Did you paint over it?” Is the first thing you ask him and he frowns before understanding.

“The tree in your brother's office? Nah. He said we should keep it.”

Your brother has no taste.

“It's a horrendous tree, Mr Park,” you insist, shaking your head when he makes a noise to disagree. “Please be sure to take it down at some point, behind his back if it's necessary.”

“Miss Kim,” he starts and you realize whatever he's about to say, it's not about that goddamned tree, “when you asked me to go to a party with you, was it the gala you and Yunho went to?”

He's direct and blunt and you are grateful that he addresses the topic straight ahead instead of walking around it like the girls did.

You nod “Yes, I wanted to say I had someone to go with so they wouldn't force Yunho and I to…”

“I understand.”

“I'm glad you said no, though. She likes you a lot,” you point to his date, she's jamming along to a rock song you don't recognize in the slightest with Hongjoong, who just joined the group in the vip area with the rest of the band. The vocalist it's missing, however and you wonder where she went, “And you like her too, so that's good. I'm glad.”

“And you don't like Yunho?”

The chuckle that bubbles out of you comes out a little more nervous than what you intended “He's, um… An old friend.”

“He told us you were trying to be friends,” he says and you blink, wondering what else Yunho told them, “but that's not what I'm asking.”

“I know what you're asking, I know what some of you think it's going to happen,” your eyes land on Yunho, his arm around Hongjoong and they're both laughing at something Mingi said. There's that pull again, your chest feels heavy with something you've never felt before “but it is not going to happen.”

Yunho catches your eye and smiles, says something to his friends and then starts making his way up to you two.

Seonghwa, instead of getting offended at your very direct refusal of his intentions, just laughs at you “Famous last words, Miss Kim.”

“Paint over the stupid tree and I might reconsider your point, Mr Park.”

He opens his mouth to say something else but then Yunho interrupts, a hand on your shoulder.

He's so touchy. You never actually took into account if he enjoys physical touch or not, but his hands are always on someone. On you, when you're close to him.

“We're leaving.” He says and he's talking to Seonghwa, not you.

“We all are?”

“Nope, just us. Princess has a curfew.”

“Aw,” you place your hand on top of his, pretending to be moved, “yes you do!”

Harshly but also half-joking (you think) he moves his hand away and turns around “I'll be waiting for you downstairs, you witch.”

You watch him say his goodbyes and flash you his middle finger before, effectively, going down the stairs. Laughing as you stand up, you return your eyes to Seonghwa “Stop it.”

“I'm just saying—”

“Shut up.”

Seonghwa laughs again and you say goodbye to everyone, Mingi giving you a look that reads as be careful with him and you want to clarify that nothing is ever going to happen.

But some of them think otherwise.

When you get downstairs, the crowd overwhelms you all over again and, just when you think Yunho might've actually left you, there's a hand that closes over yours.

The hand spins you around and Yunho comes into view with his lips curled upwards into a teasing smirk “This way, princess.”

Suspicious (about the fact that he's navigating the crowd towards anything but the exit, not about his flirtatious ways), you tug at him to make him stop “What are you up to?”

He ignores your question, moving fast and through a deserted hallway where music doesn’t really get through and, after that, he opens a door that leads to the back of the musty bar.

“Are you bringing me here so I can get robbed, Yunho?”

He huffs out a laugh, kind of offended but not really “Obviously, Y/N. It wasn’t because someone was taking pictures of us all night at all.”

His hand is on yours still as he drags you to the streets and to where you think your car is. You’re grateful he’s holding you, your heart dropping at his words. Not because people can’t know you came to this bar, or that you’re with Yunho, but because someone recognized you and you didn’t notice.

You always notice.

But this time, you felt so comfortable inside a bubble that isn’t yours that you allowed someone to disrespect you like this.

Worst, disrespect someone else who’s supposed to be with you like this.

“Are you sure it was us and the person wasn’t taking pictures of Hongjoong? He’s kind of the buzz around here, Jeong.” You try to joke to calm the beating of your heart down, swallowing hard as you get to your car.

Your hand shakes a little as you press the buttons to unlock the doors and, by the time you get into the car you’re sweating. You feel the moisture on the back of your neck like a warning, it tells you that you need to calm down before actually getting on the street but Yunho’s words don’t help at all.

“That's what I thought but then I realized the phone was following you.”

“Great,” you gulp again, starting the car and turning on the ac just to have something to distract you and your hands. "You didn't have to leave with me, though. You just needed to tell me and—”

“We’re together, aren't we? At least to them, we are, so leaving together it's the least they expect us to do.”

Expect. You hate that he's right, that he was able to think rationally and you hate that he regards the situation you're both in with a little more maturity than a few days ago.

This turn in his personality is overwhelming to say the least. There's only so much concealing you can do before it shows that you're starting to care about him genuinely, beyond the pr and the arranged relationship.

“Thank you.” You mutter after a few seconds of silence where he checked his phone.

He looks up from it a few seconds, smiles at you a little and then returns his attention to the screen. It takes a few seconds of the ac blasting in your face and the sound of the keyboard of his phone to return you to the ground, panic dissipating when he looks back up again.

“Are you sure you don't want to sneak back? I don't mean to steal you from your friends, Yunho.”

“You are my friend, princess.” Without really wanting to, your nose scrunches at the corniness of the statement and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t make that face. Look, I was searching online for the pictures or videos they might've taken at the bar and I found this.”

He turns his phone and although your panic went away, the feeling is replaced by a little bit of anger: It's a picture of you both, Jaemi in your arms, her face covered by your hair and shoulder. Yunho is staring at you both sweetly, like you remembered he did and you are mid sentence.

It's not the face you're making in the picture that upsets you, it's the fact that someone took that moment and posted it online for everyone to see.

“You don't like it.” He says and you take a swing of air before replying.

“I do like the picture, I don't like what it means,” and he's about to ask what you mean, you see it in his eyes but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don't like that they took that moment away from me, from us.”

You don't know why you say it like that but you do, there's this emotion laced on your voice that, a week ago, you would've fought to keep away from him. He was never supposed to see any of this. In fact, no one was supposed to see any side of you that wasn't perfectly crafted to their liking, to your mother's liking.

Yunho getting to know you like this wasn't part of your plan. So you ignore the sting on your chest at his pained expression caused by what you say next.

“From now on, let's not allow them to take moments away from us. Let's meet when we're scheduled to, during the week and not on weekends and—”

“Let's go.”

“Yeah, I'll take you home and then maybe we can tell our moth—”

“No, no. Just… Let's go here,” he tips and taps at the screen of your car, placing an address inside the gps you're unfamiliar with, “and then we can go home.”

Confused and in a surprising complaint mood, you start to back out of the parking spot. At the questions written all over your face, he simply places a hand on your knee and squeezes there. It does nothing to calm you down but it does distract you for a second.

Which is bad. Cause you're driving and all, so you bat his hand away with yours and he laughs at the dead look you send his way.

“Where are we going?”

“I want to show you something.”

“Jeong Yunho, are you sneaking me into your dorm room?”

“Shhhh.”

A finger on your lips is the only thing you get as a response before he pokes his head out, into the badly lit hallway of what you can only presume is his dorm room.

His digit is replaced by your hand because you're trying very hard no to burst out laughing at his very specific change of placement. He sprints to the wall in front of you and moves his hand, urging you to follow his footsteps.

You do, only much slower than what he intended, you guess, because as soon as you're on his reach he grabs your arm and collides his body with yours. His lips near your cheek when he looks down, his words a whisper.

“The cameras are old and they don't catch fast movements that well, so we have to run.”

It takes five good seconds to try and contain your laugh again before replying: “Okay… Mister Bond.”

His face falls. “Y/N, I can get in serious trouble for bringing you here.” He deadpans and you nod, fast and unserious.

“Yeah, no, I can totally see that.”

“I hate you.”

You smile all the way up to his room, his anxious behavior a little strange because, well, you see a girl casually exiting a room on the base floor as you go upstairs. She's flushed and giggling as she types on her phone, so you don't understand what big deal is.

Especially when Yunho all but shoves you into a room you can only assume is his, your kitty heels almost making you trip with the shoe rack by the entrance.

“You're the most dramatic person I have ever met, Jeong.”

“Hall monitors are a thing here, Y/N and I don't want to get banned from the team!”

“What team?”

Now that you think about it, this does seem like one of the dorms reserved for sports teams in the school you graduated from. This one is smaller, definitely not as luxurious and allegedly has a faulty security system but that's besides the point: there's banners and posters on the walls all the way from the entrance to this room that kind of smells like soju and beer.

“The dance team!” He says as you step further into the room.

“I didn't know you dance.”

There's enough space for two beds, two desks that are pressed together on one corner of the room, in front of one of the beds, giving the illusion of being one cohesive piece of furniture when it's not. In front of the other bed there's a corner mirror and a bedside table with old energy drink cans and one unopened, undrinked water bottle.

“I didn't know you painted until recently.”

“I don't,” you argue, throwing your purse on one of the beds before Yunho takes it and places it into the other one. You assume that's his. "You are allowed to have a dorm here for shaking your little ass on stage a few times, Jeong?”

Your teasing makes him frown but you can only smile at the reaction, arms crossed as you take one more look around the room.

“I do more than shaking my great ass on stage, princess. Besides, this makes me somewhat very independent from my parents,” he shrugs “And I'm close to the campus. It's a win, win situation for me.”

“Yeah, I'll give you that.” And it's true: you can't really argue against being away from your parents. He's lucky he's able to do it, least to some degree. “You still have to go to your house on weekends, no?”

“Yeah,” he sighs and when you return your eyes to him, he's making his bed. He looks a little ashamed of the state he left the room in when he catches you staring. “But I think I can allow myself to stay here on weekends now, too, considering they forced me into our little… Arrangement.”

“Yeah, because your mother is all but allowing you to do things this week. Really, Yunho, don't test the woman’s patience.”

He frowns at you “What side are you on?”

“The side where we get scolded the least until this whole thing is over, Yunho!”

“Look, I understand that you care deeply for your parents approval and we've gone through this already this week but—”

“But what?”

You hope the look you send him makes him choose his words very carefully. You don't think it gets the message across when he takes a breath and shrugs.

“But at some point you're going to have to let go of that, Y/N, you're clearly not happy.”

“Stop caring so much about my happiness, Yunho.”

“We're friends, that's what a friend is supposed to—”

“Oh, stop that.”

He looks taken aback by your interruption and your tone, but the whole leaving the bar because someone was taking pictures of you knocked some sense of reality into you and now you're upset.

You don't want to scream, you don't want to fight with him because today has been so good. Good to you, good to him, good to people who are dear to you and to him, but it's so hard.

It's hard when he understands some of it but not the full picture and it's hard when your walls are down, your feelings are on your sleeve and your words spill out of your mouth without a second thought.

“We're not friends, Yunho. We've never been friends, we were not brought together to be just friends and you may think otherwise because you have the opportunity to live like this,” you point to his bed, “and go to bars and concerts and make noise within the crowds because you're tall and attractive, not because of your last name but I am never going to have that.”

Feet moving to their own accord, you cross the space as you speak, until you have to look up at him and that pained expression you saw before heading towards his dorm is back, that pained expression he gave you back at the gala when he found you in that room, that pained expression he had when he fought with his mom in front of you.

You hate it. Not because he might be in some sort of pain, but because it makes you feel bad that you are the one that's causing it.

“I am never going to have this, Yunho. So yeah, I'm unhappy and bitter and sad and I've developed a whole panic disorder because of it but that's just what—”

“God, you're impossible.”

What?

“W-what?”

“‘That's just what it's meant to happen’. Is that what you were going to say? ‘That's just the way things are’,” he mocks and that hurts you but he doesn't back down even at the way you physically recoil at his words.

He moves to the floor, knees hitting hard as he drops and looks for something under his bed.

You don't need to be here. But before you announce that you're leaving, he does something that ignites your curiosity: he pulls out a box.

A box with the name of the highschool you attended together in it. You have that box, or at least you think you do, somewhere in the storage of your house where no one can find it because, like almost everything in your life, there's no happy memories in it.

You're not sure if there's happy memories for Yunho, but the way he harshly opens it and rumages inside to find something specific tells you otherwise.

“The other day, after seeing the canvases in your room, I tried to remember if you liked painting,” he starts and gets up, a mid-sized blue photo album on his hand with the name of the school and your classes slogan engraved in gold on the side, “I tried to remember things I'm supposed to know about you, because we grew up together, Y/N.”

His reminder makes you gulp.

“I've tried to distance myself from you as much as I can because I never thought that we would need to get along and— No, no, I never thought I would want to get along with you but now I do and so I went home and I stole this from my mother's office.”

He opens the album and, at first, you only see pictures of him. Him at his graduation day, him at that one soccer event where he almost broke his nose, him at the school yard with guys from your class you barely remember and then he gets to a specific part of the album. Instead of a picture, there's a card with beautiful handwriting that reads your name instead.

“See, I always hated that my mother seemed to adore you. She doesn't have any daughters, so I thought it was a way of living that through you and that your mother was a little weird for allowing it to happen, but I was wrong,” he hands you the album and you scowl a little at the pictures you see of yourself, pictures that you've never seen before tonight, “And so, when she asked me to take pictures of you at school events she couldn't attend or your parents couldn't attend, I did it because of that. But I realized recently that she never wanted this for herself.”

There's a picture of you at a piano recital where you came in third because you sucked at it. There's a picture of you on stage, on school assembly day, accepting a medal for your academic excellency. There's a picture of you next to the school’s art gallery, where you were able to display the canvases you painted throughout your senior year, at your teacher’s insistent request. There's a picture of you in the art gallery, someone you don't recognize or don't really remember is talking to you, their hands pointing at an abstract piece you did.

It's the only picture where you're genuinely smiling.

You trace the picture caged with the protective film of the album with the pad of your finger, softly, over that smile and wait for it to disappear but it doesn't.

You look at Yunho, eyes almost teary with confusion and sentiment.

“She never wanted this for herself because, although she loves you, she doesn't care about any of this when you're already the perfect match for me in her eyes” he smiles a little, his finger joining yours on the page. “She doesn't care if you got third or first place here, she doesn't give a fuck about your academic achievements and she definitely doesn't give a shit if you're an artist or not,” his finger connects with yours, over your immortalized smile on the picture “but I do.”

Your head starts to shake, your mind starts to reject his words right away. He cares? About you? No, no. It can be, he—

He's nodding, stepping close and letting his eyes move away from you just a millisecond so he can stare at the picture “If it makes you this happy, I do. And I did, I don't… I don't remember exactly everything I thought about you as I took these pictures, Y/N, I was probably very annoyed,” he laughs a little and you do too, softly, barely, “but I probably cared back then too, I just… Well, what I'm trying to say is that you can be happy, you can have this and—”

You don't know what does it. Is it his speech? This whole I was supposed to hate you but I don't think I ever did feeling that washes over you, like some sort of light in the midst of a very long period of darkness? Is it the lingering curve of his lips as he looks at your face in that picture and then back at you with stars in his eyes? Is it the way his finger brushes against yours shyly, like he intended to do it but he's not so sure how you would react to it?

Is it the way he looked at you this afternoon, while Jaemi was speaking nonsense into your hair? Is it the fact that, at some point during the drive, you looked over and saw him smiling at his phone, at the picture that stole your moment with him this afternoon?

What exactly prompts you to shut the photo album, let it fall to the floor and close the distance between your lips is beyond you but, if you're being honest with yourself, it doesn't really matter.

Kissing Yunho feels like defiance, like rebellion against yourself and your principles and your values. It makes your heartbeat happily against your ribcage and that's, maybe, what makes you pull away from the close-lipped encounter.

He just told you that you can be happy, but your mind can't just accept it so easily.

Also, he didn't exactly kiss you back.

His lips are parted when you look at him again, his pupils going all over your face like trying to get ahold of what the fuck just happened.

This is so embarrassing.

“I shouldn't have done that,” you start, in a whisper, tiptoes going down until you're back from the clouds on the ground. “I'm so, so sorry. I'll leav—”

Briefly, you wonder what makes Yunho grab the side of your face and kiss you back, this time with a foreign emotion pouring into the kiss that you, somehow, feel equipped to return as your lips move in tandem with his.

You wonder if what makes his free hand move to your waist and press you flush against him is, in any way, motivated by some sort of pity.

His tongue brushing softly against yours for the first time makes your insecurity go away. It makes everything else go away, including that alarm inside of your head that tells you that you're making a mistake.

It’s blasting red, dangerous and irrevocable red, but you think you confuse the color of it with the blush on Yunho’s cheek when you push a little onto him and he falls to the bed. You confuse the sound with the sigh that he lets out when he pulls you to him and your first instinct is to sit on his lap, leg on each side of him, hand fisting his shirt as you capture his lips again.

His warmth engulfs you when his arms go around you, press you into him again and settle you further into his lap so you’re not awkwardly hovering over it anymore. There’s this need that takes over you, struggling to come up to the surface. You think he feels it too and, when your hips move out of pure want, he opens his legs a little more.

Adrenaline rushing through you, making you confuse the sensation for pure euphoria, it takes two more thrusts into the material of his jeans for you to come to your senses.

What the hell are you doing?

Your heart races, for a different reason now.

What the hell do you think you’re doing?

Panic rising, you push Yunho’s shoulder with your hands, pulling you both away from the kiss completely. He has a pout on his lips, swollen from your kisses and flushed pink. They look very inviting, and although there’s a part of you that wants to give in, there’s the other side of you, the louder side, that’s telling you to think clearly.

Giving into Yunho, is giving into your mother’s wishes fully. Giving into Yunho means she won.

And Yunho thinks you are able to be happy one day, the words you cut off still ringing in your mind and they cover your fears with hope you never felt before, hope that you didn’t think you deserved to feel in the first place. His kisses had that taste, too.

But you don’t think you can let your mother win.

“Dinner.” You manage to say, untangling his hands off your waist, using them to help you up and off his lap.

“W-what?”

“It’s almost nine, I have to go to dinner with my brother.” You fix your shirt, tuck your hair behind your ear and bend over him to grab your purse before clearing your throat, “I know the way out.”

“Y/N, don’t—”

“I’ll see you next thursday.”

When you sprint out of the room and close the door behind you, you already want to go back in.

But running is sensible, it’s what you’re supposed to do.

It doesn’t matter that hot, angry tears are wetting your cheeks.

It’s what’s best for everyone, including him.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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prokopetz · 7 months ago

Note

Last night while I was in bed I was thinking about a series where each individual part of it was released in a separate format; for example, Part 1 is released as a book, Part 2 as a movie, Part 3 as a video game, et cetera. Do you know of anything that fits this bill, even somewhat?

It's a fairly common pattern if you count the whole "TV show's plot continued as a series of films" phenomenon. Assuming you've already ruled that out as too obvious (or you're counting film and television as the same medium), the next most common pattern in my experience is "book or film whose direct sequel is a video game" (i.e., in the sense that the video game is a direct continuation, rather than an adaptation of any particular prior instalment), or occasionally vice versa.

The earliest example of the latter I can come up with off the top of my head is Zilpha Keatley Snyder's Green Sky Trilogy, published from 1975 through 1978, whose overarching plot is continued – and ultimately resolved – in the 1984 video game Below the Root.* Other examples include the 1997 video game Parasite Eve (direct sequel to the 1995 novel of the same name, though the English localisation takes numerous liberties to ensure that familiarity with the novel is unnecessary, as it wouldn't be published in English until 2005), or Turbo Kid (video game, 2024), direct sequel to Turbo Kid (feature film, 2015). Going the other direction, you can easily make an argument for Final Fantasy VII (1997), a video game whose direct sequel, Final Fantasy: Advent Children (2005), is an animated feature film.

As for examples spanning three or more separate mediums, I can't think of one off the top of my head, but I'm sure they exist. Maybe someone in the notes can come up with one!

* Interestingly, apart from being one of the earliest examples of a series of novels continued in video game form, Below the Root is often cited as one of the early prototypes of what would become the metroidvania formula; it's really more of a text adventure with light platforming elements, but the outlines are there.

#media #television #movies #literature #video games sequels #adaptations

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osarina · 8 months ago

Text

ᡣ𐭩 ICARIAN

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai had known he was flying too close to the sun, he should have stopped himself while he still had the chance. {wordcount: 11.5k; fem!reader, romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: installment fiveeeee otherwise known as part 2 of installment four LOL! ugh guys i'm dragging myself thru the trenches right now i'm so miserable - i wasn't even up to posting this today i won't lie but </3 i pulled thru </3 if only barely. fun fact this is actually only a 3 scene chapter but the second scene is just MASSIVE. i wasn't up to restructuring so you guys are just going to get it as it is. this is also unedited because i just wasn't up to it so bear with me regarding mistakes. JUST TO REMIND YOU ALL: the last installment is DELAYED - i have 3 finals next week and haven't had the time to finish it. it will be up by the end of may </3 sorry guys. wow this actually is attempt number three trying to post this correctly - i'm so shot

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from badlands - if you guys read badlands, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole 12k chapter just because there's 4k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the SECOND scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in badlands, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, dazai cries </3 poor baby, sub!dazai, as always pussy drunk!dazai, bit of overstim on dazai's part too, jfhsuhdfsu i will say it starts on the bathroom floor so that might be a bit gross to some of you but dazai hardly even uses his apartment anyway so trust it's clean. bear with me. it just flowed from there i had to go with it. the story writes itself, i'm only the scribe. LOL let me know if i missed anything, i might have

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

Dazai is hardly listening to the conversation at hand. They’ve been going back and forth for thirty minutes about inconsequential matters. Tolstoy is getting increasingly heated as he goes tit-for-tat with Nabokov, evidently the tripartite alliance between the Russian mafias is not quite enough to quell all of the bad blood that’s simmered between them, but something about the situation isn’t sitting right to Dazai. He can feel it in his gut, swirling in the depths of his chest—something is wrong but he doesn’t know what.

Mishima looks equally put out, gaze trained on Tolstoy and Nabokov’s conversation, occasionally looking back at his executives. Cao seems bored, head tilted back against the red cushions of the round booth as he smokes a cigarette; in all regards, he seems relaxed, but Dazai notices the way the fingers of his free hand are tense on the table, as if he’s bracing himself for something.

Something isn’t right.

Dostoevsky is cunning. Intelligent. He’s been lethally sharp in every universe that the other Dazais have encountered him in. He wouldn’t send Tolstoy and Nabokov into this meeting with them at each other’s throats like this without an ulterior reason. Dazai is missing something critical; he knows it’s not something as simple as wanting to give off the appearance of a divided front as means to get Dazai and Mishima to lower their guard. Nothing is that easy. There’s some ulterior motive that Dazai has to figure out.

Cao’s presence. Tolstoy and Nabokov’s blatant hostility toward one another. Mishima’s words from earlier, warning him that something seems to be brewing, that Tolstoy and Nabokov had been on edge since he arrived at the event hall. Dazai’s head hurts, and he can’t focus, not when you’re in the other room without him.

Already, he feels as if he’s been separated from you for too long, he’d been hoping this meeting was only going to last thirty minutes at most, and it’s been thirty minutes already and hardly any progress has been made. If Dazai didn’t know any better, he’d think that…

He’d think that Tolstoy and Nabokov were stalling.

At once, Dazai starts catching onto the things that he missed. The way Nabokov keeps glancing up at the clock on the wall above Cao. The way Tolstoy’s gaze keeps flickering to his phone. The way Cao’s attention seems to be elsewhere.

Cao Xueqin. A Dream of Red Mansions. A scrying ability.

His heartbeat slows and Dazai blinks. Once. Twice. Blood roars in his ears as his gaze twists down to where his phone is laying on the table in front of him, on its face. Tachihara should have texted him to let him know that he got to you. Him or Chuuya. He usually reports to Chuuya anyway, so Dazai figured that Chuuya would’ve gotten the confirmation. He turns his head to the side to look at the executive from the corner of his eye, trying to keep his breath as slow and steady and natural as possible when he realizes that Chuuya is frowning with furrowed brows, looking at his phone. Unsure.

Dazia reaches for his own phone, fingers deceptively steady despite the way his insides are curdling with a sudden jolt of anxiety. His eyes zero in on the top right corner of his phone. No signal. Dazai has been to this event hall countless times in this life and dozens of others—there’s always service throughout the building.

Unless it’s being jammed, that is.

Dazai’s blood runs cold, gaze dragging from his phone to the door that leads to the hallway connecting to the event hall where you are. He feels as if he’s been doused with icy water and lit on fire all at once. For a second, he doesn’t move—he’s not sure if it’s anxiety or fear, or both, but he knows it’s because you’re out there and Dostoevsky is plotting something while trying to keep him out of the picture in this meeting.

He should have known better. Mishima had assumed that Dostoevsky wasn’t in the building—he had his three best scouts prowling the whole building trying to place the real leader of the tripartite but had failed. Nabokov had apparently told him that Dostoevsky had to stay back to handle residual business in Russia, a blatant lie, one that has had Mishima on edge all night.

The one with the overcoat. The clown.

Dazai stills as he remembers the white haired man who hung around Dostoevsky in some of the other universes. Not all of the other Dazais encountered him—in fact, Dazai thinks there were only half a dozen other universes where he met the man, he can hardly remember his name, but when he did…

Spatial linking. Of course Mishima’s men hadn’t been able to hunt down Dostoevsky. Dostoevsky would’ve predicted that the Sun and Steel would seek out the mastermind with their scouts. He used the clown to enter the building without anyone knowing after the scouts finished their hunt.

Dazai had missed a critical piece on the board.

Dazai rises to his feet abruptly, mind numb, eyes distant, and lips parted to speak but no words escape them. Tolstoy and Nabokov exchange a sharp, pointed look, pausing in their hostilities, and Dazai knows. He knows.

Dostoevsky is going after you.

He hears Chuuya and Kouyou calling after him but it sounds like a distant buzz. His throat feels clogged, his heartbeat is erratic and uncontrollable, his ears are ringing. His surroundings are blurry, a part of him doesn’t even know where he is: the event hall, your apartment, in the cafe below the Armed Detective Agency, it’s all blurring together.

This is it.

His vision swims and his head spins. The hallway seems impossibly long, much longer than it was to walk to the room. He can hear Chuuya spitting curses, scrambling out of the room, and he’s sure that his other executives and the other mafiosos aren’t far behind, but Dazai’s mind is on a single track. He doesn’t know how fast he’s moving—fast enough that Chuuya is chasing after him but can’t catch him. Something is heavy and cool in his hand—his gun—numb fingers moving to click the safety off.

This is it.

He might enter that hall and find you dead, slumped over the bar he’d last seen you sitting at, blood splattered across your face. Limp, cold. Just like you were on your bedroom floor. In the booth at the cafe. He’s pulling you from the water. He’s screaming for Yosano when he’s with the Agency. He’s screaming for Mori when he’s with the Mafia. Sometimes he’s alone, and he has no one to call for help, so all he can do is hold you and cry.

It’s his fault. He knew this would happen from the beginning. He knew that being with you would lead you to the same fate that you’ve met in every other universe because of him. He knew that being with you would be your death sentence, but he couldn’t stop himself.

His vision swims again, the red and gold patterns on the walls of the event hall are indistinct blobs, he feels someone try to grab his wrist—Chuuya, probably—but Dazai rips himself free and pushes himself into the event hall.

He ignores the eyes on him and the way people all instinctively move away from the sight of him with his gun out, he’s sure he must look deranged but he’s hardly even keeping himself grounded to this reality. Pages pile around him, every single one has variations of the same scene that’s haunted him for almost eight years written on it; one is being written before his eyes, he can see the words appearing on the blank sheet. He needs to find you before it’s complete. He has to stop it.

His eyes cut across the room, toward the bar he’d last seen you at, and you’re there. You’re there. It’s almost enough to make him scramble to put his gun away, cover up his steep spiral of paranoia even if you are looking right in his direction and see the gun in his hand. He can hardly come to terms with the consequences of this, how you’re seeing him right now, because his gaze tunnels right in on the person sitting next to you and his world comes to a halt.

He lifts the gun. He ignores as people shriek and scramble to the edges of the room. He ignores the look on your face as he moves closer to where you’re sitting with Fyodor Dostoevsky. He ignores the way Chuuya and Kouyou and Piano Man have all skid to a stop somewhere behind him, trying to figure out what to do. Dostoevsky’s hand is mere inches away from brushing against your body, it would only take the slightest movement and you would be dead. It would be a game of who’s faster: Dazai’s trigger finger or Dostoevsky’s ability. Dazai’s always been quick to pull the trigger but now, faced with your life on the line, when he should be at his best because of what’s at risk, he finds himself scared and unsteady.

He can’t lose you. He can’t watch it happen.

He paces toward you slowly, steadily, he swears each step he takes echoes across the suddenly silent event hall. He doesn’t stop until the muzzle of his gun is pressed against the back of Dostoevsky’s head.

“Stand up.” Dazai’s voice is deceptively cold and steady for the rage and fear that’s clawing at his chest, threatening to take control.

Dostoevsky turns his head to the side to look at Dazai, faint amusement in his eyes. “Are you sure you really want to do this here, Dazai?”

The mocking lilt his voice takes is almost enough alone for Dazai to pull the trigger. And if that wasn’t, the way Dostoevsky smiles at Dazai like he’s won is certainly enough to push him over the edge.

Before he can, he feels Chuuya grab his bicep hard.

“You can’t do this here,” he hisses quietly. “If you kill him now on neutral territory, we’ll have all of the mafias in the Eastern Hemisphere coming after you and the government on your ass. You can’t do this here and you can’t do it in public.”

Dazai doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how many mafias come after him for killing on neutral territory when invited as a guest. He doesn’t care that the government will come after him for such a blatant murder. All he cares about is getting Dostoevsky away from you.

“Chuuya is right,” Kouyou murmurs, low enough for only Dazai to overhear. “We can cover this up as is. If you pull the trigger, there’s no hiding what happened here. You know better than this, boy. You won’t be the only person this affects if you do this. Think of her. She will be implicated for coming here with you. Lower the gun and let us handle sweeping this under the rug.”

Dazai can’t even bring himself to look at you. He’s scared of what he might find. But he doesn’t even consider lowering the gun, not until Dostoevsky raises his hands and slips off the bar stool to step away from you. Even when he does, Dazai keeps it trained on him, still tempted to blow his head right off his shoulders.

“I meant no harm,” Dostoevsky says smoothly. “I was intrigued, wanted to know the girl who’s managed to capture your interest. I must say, I see the appeal. Beautiful and intelligent, you have quite the eye, Dazai.”

Dazai’s lips stretch into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s not kind, and it’s mildly feral, and Dazai’s pretty sure he must look entirely deranged from the way Dostoevsky’s eyes widen in a mixture of surprise and entertainment, just enough to be noticeable.

“If you ever go near her again, I’ll put a bullet through your fucking skull, Dostoevsky.”

He should do it now. He should. Fuck Chuuya and Kouyou’s warnings, he should put a bullet in his head and be done with it, move onto handling Christie so that both of the major threats to your life are gone. But he can’t. If he takes this opportunity now, if he kills Dostoevsky so blatantly on neutral territory, the Pale Flame and Three Deaths will come at him in full force, and Dazai is sure the Red Chamber won’t be far behind them with Cao’s recent interest in expanding his business into Japan. And you’ll be caught in the crossfire of all of it, Dazai has ensured that by bringing you here. Dostoevsky must have accounted for all of this. He knew that Dazai would be put in a situation where either way, whether he kills him or lets him go, he’d be throwing himself onto a blade.

Is that it? Killing you wasn’t the goal, was it? Exposing Dazai was. Forcing him into this impossible decision.

Did he really just fall into Dostoevsky’s hands so easily? Even with all of the forewarning the other universes have given him?

It’s you. You always make him reckless, his mind is never as sharp whenever you’re involved, muddled with thoughts of you, plagued with spirals of paranoia and anxiety that make him double guess himself. It’s like this in every universe—he becomes stupid, he becomes rash, he becomes careless. It’s you.

You.

Suddenly very hyper aware of your eyes on him, Dazai lowers his gun, gaze turning in your direction. Dostoevsky lets out one last snide comment, something toward you, telling you ‘don’t you see’ but Dazai doesn’t even process it, heart in his throat as he looks at you. He doesn’t know what he expects—fear, betrayal, even anger. He’s not prepared for the emptiness. He can’t read a single emotion on your face, your eyes eerily void of any feeling as you stare at him.

He says your name quietly. His voice cracks. He should be embarrassed, so many people watching the scene play out, so many of his enemies and allies and subordinates, and he’s staring at you like a lost child with an unsteady voice, but he can’t bring himself to care. The fingers of his free hand are trembling, and the ones wrapped around the grip of his gun are so wound so tight that his knuckles are white.

You’ve never looked at him like this before. Not in any universe.

He thinks he might throw up.

You’ve been mad at him before, scowling at him whenever he distracts you from your work and snarling whenever he makes messes that he never cleans up, but your eyes always stay soft in spite of the venom you spit. He’s seen betrayal on your face a few times before, screaming at him through tears when he got a bit too close to a successful attempt, cursing at him for trying to leave you, but you hold him so gently that it makes up for the harsh words. You’ve been scared of him once, when he lashed out so badly during one of his slumps that he nearly hurt you, but even then, you were more concerned for him then you were scared for yourself, speaking to him softly to settle him down.

He’s never seen this. He wants it to go away. Desperately.

“I’d like to leave,” you finally say after a few moments of silence, and your voice is so vacant of emotion that it leaves him feeling even more sick.

Dazai nods, because he can’t bring himself to speak.

He holds his hand out for you, waiting for you to take it.

You don’t.

You haven’t spoken a word since the event hall, and Dazai doesn’t know what to do. He used to find peace in silence—for years, he’d become accustomed to it, isolating himself from everyone around him, keeping everyone at arm’s length. The most he ever spoke was a few sentences to give out orders to his executives; his voice had become hoarse and raspy over the years of self-imposed isolation, unused to being utilized. But the past few months with you have utterly obliterated any semblance of comfort Dazai had found in solidarity.

It’s become entirely intolerable, the silence is making him sick with anxiety; he has hundreds of lifetimes worth of memories with you and he can’t even vaguely predict what to expect from you right now. You’ve been tense and cold since leaving the event hall. Dazai tried to open up a conversation in the car once but found himself promptly ignored. Chuuya tried to say something to you but only received the same cold shoulder. Even Albatross tried to lighten the mood when the four of you got in the car, but all you did was stare out the window with your back to Dazai.

Now, you’re back up in his penthouse with him. You haven’t sat down. You’ve hardly budged from where you’re standing near the elevator—Dazai wonders if you’re scared of him now, if you want to be as close as possible to the only exit in fear of him lashing out at you. The thought makes him even more nauseous.

He doesn’t even know what to do with himself. He doesn’t want to sit down, he’s uncomfortable standing in the living room, waiting for you to say something, and he can’t bring himself to try to break the silence because if there’s one thing he learned very swiftly, it’s that he can’t handle being ignored by you. He’d prefer anger and hate to the stonewall iciness you’re giving him.

He can’t even fathom what you might be thinking right now. You’re not looking at him. You’re staring at the window that looks over the city, he can see the bright flashing lights from Cosmo World flickering faintly in your eyes. It’s so quiet that he can hear the distant honking of horns, police sirens coming from the streets below.

He just wants you to say something, do something. Yell at him. Scream at him. Hit him or punch him. Anything is better than this.

It feels like an eternity before you finally move away from the elevator. You still don’t speak, but Dazai watches raptly as you make your way into the kitchen. You fling open the cabinets, searching for something, and Dazai’s lips part to ask what you’re looking for but he decides against it. You stop with your jerky movements when you catch sight of the numerous bottles of sake Dazai has stored in his cabinets—room temperature, because Dazai can’t stand cold drinks, they make his teeth hurt. He watches you struggle to uncap it and his body itches to move toward you to help but he knows it won’t do any good. It’ll probably just piss you off more.

When you get the cap off, you’re immediately bringing it to your lips. One. Two. Three. Four large gulps before you put the bottle back down on the counter and turn to look at him. The emptiness in your eyes is gone, replaced by something caught between hurt and anger and betrayal. It makes his heart sink, but he thinks it’s preferable to the emptiness.

“You lied to me,” you finally rasp out, shaking your head as you pace behind the counter. There’s a whole length of a room separating the two of you and Dazai longs for your touch but he forces himself to stuff his hands in his pockets and keep still. “You lied to me, Dazai.”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly without thinking, not liking the switch up. He’d finally gotten you to call him by his given name earlier in the night, he doesn’t want to lose it so quickly.

For the briefest of seconds, the hurt and betrayal in your eyes disappears and only fire rages in them. “Dazai,” you spit out pointedly.

Dazai almost draws back, not having expected that. In all of the other universes, you’ve always been gentle with him even when you’re livid. You speak his name softly, even with a tight jaw and fisted hands—his given name, you’ve never used his surname against him like this before. Probably because most of the major fights he had with you in those other lives, it was months into the relationship; it’s only been a few weeks in this life so of course-

Dazai realizes, a bit dizzy, that he’s about to lose you.

You found out too soon. You found out through Dostoevsky, through Dazai's own loss of control. You found out in the worst possible way and you found out too soon.

Dazai is about to lose you.

“Okay,” he murmurs, not wanting to test your temper anymore, giving in as a means to try to soothe your anger, regardless of how much it might wound him because being wounded is nothing compared to losing you. “Dazai.”

His compliance seems to do nothing to quell your anger from the way you just scoff and shake your head again, looking away from him. You stare out over the city, dozens of emotions cloud your expression but Dazai still can’t predict what you might do next. He feels out of his depth, in murky waters with an anchor tied to his ankle.

“I knew it, you know?” you finally say quietly. “I knew it from the beginning, honestly, but I kept making excuses for you. I mean, the guns. The secrecy. You weren’t really subtle about it. Did you think I was stupid, or something?”

“Never,” Dazai says honestly, without hesitation. He sees your gaze flicker down to the ground at his words, but you don’t make any move to speak again so he takes the opportunity to, in hopes that you’ll finally listen. “You’re the smartest woman I know. I-”

You interrupt him with a sharp laugh, it’s loud and almost cruel, and Dazai turns in on himself at the sound of it. He feels small and unsteady, like a child who’s being scolded by a parent. When you look at him again, your eyes are wide and wild, half-crazed in sheer disbelief. You don’t believe him. Of course, you don’t. It’s plainly displayed on your face. And why would you anyway? He’s given you every reason not to.

“If you think I’m so smart, why didn’t you think I would figure it out?”

He tries to say that he knew you would. That he’s been living in fear for weeks that you’d finally see him for what he is but when he opens his mouth to say it, no words leave him. Like he’s frozen in fear, ice crawling through his veins, stones weighing on his tongue; he can’t respond, and he knows that he’s only condemning himself more. He tries to force something out but he can’t even make the barest hint of a sound. The mindkiller. He’s never responded well to fear, much less when you’re involved.

You click your tongue, as if to solidify that his silence proves your point, or maybe you know what he can't bring himself to say and you just don't believe him. His stomach churns again, and dread spreads through chest when you say: “If I’m so smart, and I was going to figure it out anyway, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“You would have left.” Dazai is finally able to speak, but he speaks the wrong answer, clearly, from the way you let out another humorless, breathless laugh, eyes wide in disbelief. You look at him like he’s the most audacious man in the entire world. Maybe he is.

“Yeah, I would have,” you agree and Dazai flinches. “Without hesitation, without even looking back. And now, I can’t because you made me fall in love with you without even warning me about what I was getting myself into.”

Dazai’s heart should be leaping through the roof at your confession, but if anything, he feels even worse. His throat feels clogged and his chest feels so heavy. You’ve never regretted falling in love with him before. Not in any lifetime.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, because he doesn’t know what else to say. The words are still foreign on his tongue, he doesn’t think he’s ever apologized to someone in this life before the last twenty-four hours.

“No, you’re not,” you say bitterly, looking away. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to care so much about you that when you finally tell me who you are and what you do, I won’t be able to leave.”

Dazai stares at you, lost. He remembers how just the other day he was finding comfort in the way you could read him so easily, knowing he didn’t have to speak for you to know what he needed at the moment. He thinks he hates it now, because you’re finally reading deeper into his soul and seeing him for the sick, twisted monster he really is. Just like he feared from day one. Manipulative. Selfish. Undeserving. His fingers tremble in his pockets, nails biting into his palm so deep that he can feel blood trickling down his skin, but not even the stinging pain can distract him from the numbness spreading through him.

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what?” you interrupt him. “You didn’t think I’d be upset? You didn’t think I’d be angry? Or maybe you didn’t think it would happen this soon? Is that it, Dazai? You thought you’d have more time to win me over in hopes that I’d take the news in stride. News flash, Dazai, no amount of time or charm would have made me accept this easily. Accept you easily. How could I ever accept any of this?”

Nausea rises to his throat so suddenly that he almost gags. He feels dizzy, taking a step back so that his back is against the wall, keeping him steady. Your last words echo through his head over and over again, he can’t escape them. The one person who’s always accepted him in every lifetime, the only person he was ever able to find a home in—how could I ever accept you?

His cheeks feel wet, his eyes are wide as he stares at you. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. He doesn’t even think he could if he knew how to respond to that. His lungs are burning and his throat feels so swollen that even just the thought of trying to speak is painful.

You let out a sharp breath, caught between a hysterical laugh and a sob as you press your hands to either side of your neck and pace across the kitchen. “What am I supposed to do, Dazai?” you ask, voice hoarse. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

He thinks it might be a rhetorical question, but he still forces out: “Don’t leave me.”

You scoff again, louder and harsher this time. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as if to futilely minimize the blow. “I wish leaving you was still an option for me.”

Oh. He’s going to throw up.

He wants to blame it on the alcohol he drank earlier in the night. He wants to blame it on the stress of the past few weeks. He wants to blame it on anything but this, even though he knows damn well that this conversation is what triggered the bile that rises to his throat. He forces himself to move, nearly tripping over his feet to get to the bathroom because he doesn’t want you to see him vomiting up his guts.

He hardly makes it to the toilet, crashing to his knees and clutching at the seat as he dry heaves. Nothing comes up—he hasn’t eaten enough the past few days to have anything solid in him, too busy with preparations—but he can’t stop gagging, eyes stinging with tears and throat burning. He doesn’t know how long he stays crumpled at the toilet, losing track of time entirely, a part of him just wants to stay there forever so he doesn’t have to go back out and face you.

Evidently, he doesn’t have to go back out and face you because you come to him.

He’s gagging again when he feels your hand brush his back, hesitantly at first and then firmly. Your touch is warm, and Dazai thinks he must look pathetic as he turns his head to the side to look at you. Your expression isn’t as harsh now, your eyes are still conflicted but your face is softer. After a moment, you take a seat on the floor next to him—you don’t say anything, but you let out a soft puff of air as you slip your arm around his shoulders once he stops heaving.

He crumbles into your chest, body collapsing against yours. You wrap your arms around him, and at once, the numbness starts to fade away. His fingers clutch at your dress desperately, afraid that you’re going to disappear, but you only hold him tighter. You bury your face in his hair, forehead pressed to the top of his head.

“You’re so unfair, Osamu.” Your voice cracks, you’ve lost all of your fire, but Dazai finds no solace in it.

“I know,” he croaks out, throat scratchy and voice wavering. “I know.”

And then words are spilling from his lips before he can stop them, jumbled and hardly intelligible and he’s not even sure that you’re understanding what he’s saying but he can’t stop himself: “I tried. I tried to stay away, I tried so hard, you don’t understand. I knew it would turn out like this, I knew I would ruin you so I tried to stay away, but I’m selfish. I’m so selfish, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I knew better, I’m going to-you’re going to-”

The panic is returning, the words he wants to say but can’t push out are too damning: I’m going to get you killed. You’re going to die because of me. Dazai is breathing but the air isn’t getting to his lungs, his chest burns, and now even with your arms around him, the numbness is returning. It’s rapid now, spreading from his chest to his arms, down his abdomen to his legs; it’s going to consume him entirely, he can feel it, he can-

Oh.

Your lips press to his. Tilting his head back to angle his face up toward you, you lean down and press your lips against his, swallowing his words, his air, his panic. One of your hands cup his cheek while the other cradles the back of his head, Dazai can hardly kiss you back, his lips feel cold and prickly, but his eyes flutter shut as your lips move slowly and carefully against his.

Not for the first time, he thinks that he doesn’t deserve this. Especially not now. He tastes something wet and salty against his lips—he doesn’t know if you’re the one crying, or if he is, and he doesn’t want to know, so he forces himself to move. His arm feels heavy and clunky, and his fingers feel stiff, but he’s able to bring them up to your face, palms cupping your cheeks as the tips of his fingers tangle into your hair. He kisses you until his lungs are screaming for air, and even as he starts to feel lightheaded, he kisses you still, because your lips are the only thing able to push away the numbness overwhelming him.

When you break away from him, you keep your foreheads pressed together, nose nudging against his. You share the same thin sliver of air and Dazai feels dizzy, he wants to kiss you again but he doesn’t think he’s capable of moving yet, so he only stays crumbled in your arms, waiting for you to grace him with your lips again.

“I wish I still had the chance to be a better man,” Dazai says hoarsely, honestly, gaze searching yours desperately. “I would be. For you.”

Please believe me, he thinks to himself helplessly, because it’s the truth. He would try to be. For your sake. He might fail, he might be too far gone, his soul corrupted beyond salvation and his blood black beyond purification, but he would try. He would try so hard for you. But he can’t, not in this lifetime, not without risking everything he’s strove to protect since coming in contact with the Book. He has to stay the criminal, the monster, the demon so that you and Odasaku can live out your lives here. Until Dostoevsky, Christie, and any other person that could turn out to be a threat to either of you are killed, Dazai has to keep playing this role. He has to.

You don’t respond. Dazai thinks it’s because you don’t believe him and it makes him feel sick again. His lips part to repeat himself but you only press yours against his, as if to silence him.

You don’t believe him, the kiss confirms it, and his heart sinks but he can’t even bring himself to protest, to insist that it’s true. Instead, he decides if he can’t prove it through his words, he’ll prove it through his actions. Even though his limbs still feel leaden and clumsy, he forces himself into a better position, sitting up a bit more and bringing both of his hands up to cup your cheeks. He tilts your head back, leaning into you and slowly pressing you back against the floor and distantly Dazai recognizes that this is not the place for this but the thought is only fleeting, he’s too lost in the feeling of your lips against his and your body pressed to him.

And you let him ease you back against the floor. You let him tilt your head back and when his tongue darts out to swipe against your bottom lip, you part your lips for him. He doesn’t have to knock your knees apart, because you spread them just enough for him to slot his hips between them to keep your bodies flush. He wonders if you can feel how clunky his movements are—his fingers still feel heavy against your face and he can hardly hold himself up above you. He hopes he’s not crushing you with his weight, he might be, but you don’t seem to care.

He pulls back to ask if you’re okay with this but you chase his lips and he lets out a soft, muffled noise when you tug gently at his bottom lip and bring your free hand up to cup the back of his head, fingers tangling with his hair, pulling him back down to you. You drag your lips from his to slide them down his neck to the edge of his bandages. He twitches a bit at the feeling, wondering if you’re going to ask to take them off, but instead, you just trail your lips back upward, nipping at his jaw, and he shudders.

And then he finally hesitates, pulling away and not letting you chase after this time. He weighs his options in his head anxiously. He feels like he should do something, that he owes something—a lowering of a mask, a show of vulnerability, you’re entitled to at least that much after everything he’s done. Aren't you?

You give him a curious look and he tries to respond—he does, his lips part for him to speak but nothing leaves them. He swallows thickly, eyes fluttering shut as he braces himself before trying again, bringing one of his hands to yours and wrapping his fingers around it gently, lifting it from his chest to the bandages covering the left side of his face.

“Take them off,” he tells you, voice hoarse and shakier than he would have liked.

Your eyes widen, and he shudders a bit when your fingers smooth against the bandages, uncertain. “Are you sure?” you ask him softly, bringing your other hand to his opposite cheek, cupping his face in your hands again, eyes searching to make sure he means it.

Is he sure? Dazai doesn’t know. He can’t speak again as he stares down at you; a part of him is nervous, and he doesn’t even understand why. You already know who he is, what he is, but a part of him still fears that once you actually see him, something will change. And it’s ridiculous, so many other universes you’ve seen him without his bandages and you’ve never made him feel uncomfortable about it. But you’ve also never used his surname against him during an argument in the other universes, you’ve never regretted loving him, and you’ve certainly never wished you could leave him.

So, yeah, he thinks the anxiety of you removing his bandages and then seeing him in a different light might be more of a possibility in this universe than any other one. His body is more covered in scars than not, and he knows it’s not attractive; he thinks if he sees your expression shift in a negative way when the bandages come off, it might shatter him entirely.

Just the face bandages then, he bargains with himself, swallowing thickly as he forces himself to nod. You sit up from where you’re still laying back against the tiles, propping yourself on your knees to shift closer to him.

Dazai thinks his heart might be in his throat when he feels your fingers unclip the clasp holding the bandages together around the left side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly unwind them from around his head. He isn’t sure why he’s so nervous for this part—there are no scars on his face, but he still feels distinctly vulnerable, like he’s giving you a window into himself that might reveal more than he means to. He can barely breathe as he feels the last of the bandages fall to the floor, he can hear you push them to the side.

Still, he keeps his eyes shut, counting each second that passes. He’s anxious, can’t even bring himself to look at you until you cup his cheeks again.

“Look at me,” you say quietly.

Dazai does as you ask, he always does. He doesn’t know what he expects when he opens his eyes to meet your gaze; he prepares himself for the worst, for a twisted expression or thinly veiled pity, but he finds none of it. Rather, your eyes are soft and fond, tracing over his face, looking between each of his. He can feel the pads of your fingers gently brushing over his cheekbones, tracing absent patterns.

“You’re so handsome, Osamu,” you whisper, one of your hands sliding behind his head, intertwining with his hair. “Why do you wear them?”

Dazai doesn’t know how to answer that. His throat feels swollen at your words, eyes a bit misty and fingers trembling against your thighs. Instead, he breathes out, “Kiss me.”

And you do.

God, when you kiss him again, it’s so intense that it has his head spinning. He doesn’t know how long he sits there kissing you, back against the cabinets with you half in his lap. It could be a few seconds, or a few minutes, or a few hours—he has no concept of time whenever his lips are against yours. It’s only when you press your hand against his shoulder, murmuring for him to get up, that he finally pulls himself away from you.

Dazai forces himself to push up to his feet—it’s much more difficult than he thought it would be, nearly tripping over his own feet, but you follow him up to your feet, steadying him when he almost tumbles over. You bring your hand up to rest against his cheek, fingers gently toying with the edges of his hair. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he forces himself to look you in the eye.

“You’re so frustrating,” you say softly, but all of the fire is gone, replaced by that same soft look you’ve directed toward him—not him—hundreds of times before. “You are so frustrating, Osamu.”

His throat feels tight again, the sound of his name on your lips causing a wave of warmth to spread through him, the numbness slowly subsiding.

“I know,” he whispers, swallowing thickly, and you sigh, gaze averting to the side for a moment before you look back at him. He still can’t fathom what you might be thinking and it scares him.

But then you kiss him again, your other hand coming up to his other cheek and his hands fly to your waist, holding you close. You walk him backward, out of the bathroom and into the hallway. His back hits the wall and you press your body close to his, and this time it’s you whose tongue is darting out to brush his bottom lip, urging him to part his lips for you. He does, and he thinks he might be in heaven when he feels your tongue dip into his mouth, sliding against his tongue. His eyes flutter shut, rolling back just a bit when you trace the back of his teeth with your tongue before sucking gently on his bottom lip.

Your hands slide down from his face to his chest, over his jacket, down to his waist. Your fingers hook in his belt loops and Dazai groans as your lips ghost from his down to his jaw, breath shaky as trail slow, wet kisses to the sensitive spot behind his ear. He can hardly do anything but follow along as you guide him from where he’s been backed against the wall into his bedroom, dazed and entirely consumed by your touch. His head already feels a bit fuzzy, breath hitching as your teeth graze his pulse point, kissing down to the edge of his bandages and then across his throat.

He barely even knows where he is until he feels the back of his knees hit his bed and he topples backward until he’s laying flat on it. His chest is heaving, head dizzy and breath shaky as you straddle his waist. You don’t kiss him again and Dazai wants to drag you down for another but he can’t even bring himself to move. His body refuses to cooperate, nervous that he’s going to make the wrong move.

“Do you want this?” you finally ask after a moment, voice raspy as one of your hands squeeze his gently, as if to get his attention.

Dazai’s brows furrow a bit, lips parting to respond but for a second, no words leave them. You wait with the patience of a saint as Dazai tries to process what you’re asking and respond to it. After what feels like an eternity, he nods once. Of course, he wants it. You search his eyes as if to make sure he’s not just agreeing to agree, and once you’re satisfied, you continue you with:

“And do you trust me?” you ask softly, your gaze gentle as it searches his face for the next answer.

Dazai doesn’t hesitate this time, and he speaks as he breathes out, “With everything.”

He can’t tell what you’re thinking, but your expression is still soft and your touch is still gentle as you run your thumb over his knuckles. Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the gentleness you show him. You lift your hand to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, throat spasming beneath his bandages as he waits for you to say something.

“Let me take the lead then,” you say quietly, his eyes widen a bit at your words. “I want to try something.”

He watches you carefully for a moment, guarded and studying you. He thinks this might be another first, and the thought alone makes him feel a bit giddy because he can’t recall any other life where you’ve ever been the one to take the lead like this, especially the first time the two of you sleep together. You look a bit anxious the longer he goes without responding, so he nods and says, “Okay.”

He’s pliant beneath your touch as you lean down to press your lips against his; he lets out a soft, muffled noise when he feels your hips shift, unintentionally grinding down a bit on his straining cock. He’s more hesitant this time in the way his lips move against yours, unsure of what to do with himself. His fingers twitch from where they're resting on the bed, itching to grab your hips but not wanting to make the wrong move.

This has happened every time one of you tries to take the next step, either he gets interrupted or he ends up getting cold feet because he’s scared of doing the wrong thing and making you uncomfortable. And it’s ridiculous because Dazai has so many memories, he should know at least vaguely what you like and what you don’t like but he thinks having the memories are a double-edged sword because he overwhelms himself if what ifs: what if he assumes you like something and you end up not liking it in this universe, what if he does something that you only liked after the two of you have been together for a while and you’re uncomfortable with him doing it because you’re not as comfortable with him. Maybe Dazai is just overthinking it all but how can he not when you’re involved. He wants everything to be perfect for you.

“Is this okay?” you whisper, separating your lips from his just enough for him to answer your question. Your breath mingles with his and Dazai can hardly think straight; it’s hot, dizzying, there’s something so intimate about it that it makes his body fuzzy.

“Yeah,” he says, eyelashes fluttering as he looks up at you. “It’s okay.”

You kiss him again. His lips move against yours desperately, needy, he’d be embarrassed if you weren’t matching his energy, but you are. He can feel your fingers tugging at his hair, your hips grinding down against his. Every time you start to pull away, he lifts his head from where it’s laying flush against the pillows, chasing your lips.

He needs you. His hands slide from your thighs to your waist, keeping your body pressed to his. He’s needed you since the day he came in contact with the Book and learned about you, since the day he met you at the club, maybe even since the day he was born even if he hadn’t known it at the time. He thinks his entire life has led to this, to the two of you being together; your souls have been entangled since the moment you were born and he isn’t sure how he ever thought a life without you was possible.

“I need you,” he gasps against your lips, hips jerking up just a bit to try to alleviate the pressure building in his lower abdomen, desperate to reach down and unbutton his slacks, but wanting you to make the first move.

Whatever nerves that have made him get cold feet all of the other times the two of you have tried to take the next stop are long gone. You don’t give him any time to wonder if he’s doing the wrong thing—the fingers of one of your hands intertwining with his dark locks, just tight enough to make him hiss into your mouth, eyes rolling back at the pleasant sting. Your other hand slides across his chest, even through his dress shirt, your fingertips seem to scorch through to his skin, leaving his body tingling everywhere you touch.

“You have me,” you tell him, breathless, and Dazai can’t bite back the noise that slips from his lips, wanton and obscene, borderline pornographic—if he was any more coherent, he might be embarrassed but he can’t find it in him. Not when he’s finally getting what he’s wanted after all of this time.

His hands fly down to his slacks, he fumbles with the button and zipper before yanking them down just enough to free his cock and he watches as you sit back on his thighs, eyes wide and lips parted as your gaze focuses in on his cock, watching as the leaking precum dribbles down his length, alongside the vein running along the underside of his cock.

“Please,” he breathes out, fingers biting into your thighs as he bunches your dress up to your hips, another low moan spilling from his lips just at the thought of what’s about to happen, lashes fluttering.

You don’t even take off your panties, clearly driven by the same desperation that he is as you slide them to the side and position yourself above his cock and Dazai gnaws at his bottom lip when he feels the tip pressing against your entrance. He can feel how wet you are already, so drenched that your slick is dripping down the length of his cock. His hips stutter up instinctively, but instead of pushing inside, his cock slides between your folds and he whimpers, arm flying to cover the lower half of his face. You don’t let him, fingers wrapping around his wrist to pull his arm from his face and pin it to the mattress above him.

“Don’t hide yourself,” you say softly.

Dazai thinks there must be stars in his eyes as he looks up at you. You’re so beautiful, lips parted as you pant softly, an adoring expression on your face as you look down at him. He loves you. He loves you, god, he loves you more than he’s ever loved anything in his life; he thinks that nothing the other Dazais ever felt for any of the other yous could ever compare to how he feels for you.

When his tip starts to push into your tight hole, all he can let out is another loud, lewd noise; his head falls back against the pillows. His ears are ringing, but distantly, he can hear you gasp. His vision is blurry as he forces himself to look up at you but Dazai thinks you look otherworldly with your head tilted back as his cock starts to stretch you out, lips swollen and wet from the kisses you’d shared. He thinks he must look insane, pupils blown wide and eyes wild as he tries to focus on the sight of you. All of the clever wheels that usually turn within his mind are crumbling.

His fingertips leave crescents in your thighs as you sink down on his cock slowly—too slow, it leaves his head dizzy as your warmth slowly envelops his length. He’s imagined this so many times before. Dozens. Hundreds. He has so many memories of the feeling of your body flush to his, thighs over his shoulders as he fucks you deep and slow, swallowing your moans, but he thinks that nothing compares to this, the sight of you above him, watching your body tremble and face shift as his cock stretches you out. He barely refrains from letting out a string of strangled curses, barely able to hold his eyes open to watch you.

You give yourself a moment to adjust, and when you do, you look down at Dazai. He thinks he must look a mess—chest heaving, breath erratic, eyes heavy and lidded and entirely glazed over—but he doesn’t care, not with the way your hand slides up his abdomen, fingers tracing patterns along the bandages covering his body. You look beautiful—you always look beautiful—but you look extra beautiful right now, and he thinks he could stare at you forever and never tire of it.

Experimentally, you roll your hips—it’s still slow, agonizingly slow—and Dazai throws his head back, another obscene moan spilling from his lips.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his fingers falling from your thighs to twist the sheets below him, knuckles white. “Feels so good. So good.”

You let out a hum that’s caught between a moan and agreement as you continue the slow rolls of your hips, hands sliding up and down his abdomen in a way that’s deceptively innocent and soothing compared to how his cock is dragging along your walls. His body shudders at the feeling of it, heat pooling in his abdomen so quickly that it has his whole body tensing as he tries to push it away.

“You’re so perfect.” Words spill from his lips, more of a babble than anything else as you lean down to ghost your lips over his jaw, nibbling over the bandages covering his Adam’s apple. It bobs beneath your teeth as he lets out another shaky noise. “S’like you’re made for me. I’d do anything for you. Anything. You know that, right? Anything you want, it’s yours.”

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, clawing at the sheets and occasionally reaching for your thighs, and he doesn’t know what to do with his body, hips jerking up at an erratic pace, like he’s trying to meet your pace but his body simply can’t match the slow rolls of your hips, desperate for more. He doesn’t know how you’re so put together—maybe you’re not, he can see through a blurry vision how your lashes are fluttering with each roll of your hips, breath shaky, but you’re just not as far gone as he already is.

“Anything?” you murmur, and he can feel your lips curve up against his neck.

“Anything.” His breath hitches, fingers reaching for your hips as he rocks his up into you, a desperate attempt to get you to pick up the pace. “‘d give you the whole world, burn it for you, anything you want, I’d give it to you.”

His hands slide up from your thighs to your waist as you lean down to press your lips against his in a deceptively innocent kiss. He tries to chase your lips as you straighten up but you don’t let him, one of your hands curling around his throat—not choking him, but firm enough that it goes right to his cock, lips parting in a silent moan—while the other braces back on his thigh.

He thinks that nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of you picking up the pace. His breath hitches, he chokes over a moan, stars sparkle in his vision as the tip of his cock presses deep inside of you. You sigh out his name and Dazai thinks this might be the closest he ever gets to heaven: you on top of him, cock buried to the hilt in your cunt, the sight of your blissed out face above him as his head spins.

“Oh, fuck,” Dazai cries out, back arching and hand flying to cover his face again but the hand you have on his thigh flies forward to snatch his wrist before he can, pinning it back above his head. Dazai’s eyes roll back, you’re leaning over him entirely now, leaning most of your weight on the hand that’s pinning his wrist but the new angle adds pressure onto how you’re squeezing his neck, paring his airways just enough to make his lungs burn. “More. Faster, fuck, I-ah-”

His voice falls off into another moan, head falling to the side to press his cheek against the pillow. He thinks drool is starting to pool at the corner of his lips but he doesn’t care, he can’t even think at this point, too lost in the lewd sound of skin-on-skin, the sloppiness of his cock fucking deep in your cunt, your soft moans and gasps, lost in the feeling of your tight walls clamping down on his cock, the warmth, the wetness, your fingers digging into his wrist and the sides of his neck. He wants to tell you that he needs more but the words are garbled, entirely unintelligible.

He forces his eyes back open, feeling the tears spilling over his cheeks just from the intensity of it all, the intensity of you. You’re gentle with him even when your hand is wrapped around his throat and his cock is splitting you open—he can feel the soothing circles you rub with your thumb, he can see the way you’re searching his face to make sure he’s okay. Dazai is just so overwhelmed that he can’t stop the way his next moan breaks into a sob; acutely realizing just how deprived he’d been of any type of care or love before meeting you, and forcibly coming to terms with the fact that he is never going to be able to go without this again, without you again. He’d known it to some extent before this, the thought of losing you and the light you bring him has made his stomach churn violently but this…

He’s torn from his thoughts when you suddenly stop the rolls of your hips, halting the spreading heat in his lower abdomen desperately. The noise that escapes him is something caught between distress and betrayal, dark eyes wide as he looks up at you questioningly, but the expression on your face makes his breath catch. Your hand slides up from his throat to cup his cheek, your other hand releasing his wrist so that you can hold his face between your hands, thumbs wiping away the tears spilling over his cheeks.

Distantly, Dazai recognizes that he’s still choking over sobs and that’s probably why you’ve stopped and that only rips his chest apart more because of course, you’re still putting him above you—even when you’re mad, even when you’ve just fought, when he’s betrayed you in a way that should be unforgivable, you’re still kissing away his tears and putting aside your own needs to take care of him

He doesn’t deserve you. Not in any universe, but especially not in this one.

He thinks he could stay here for eternity. Fuck the rest of the world. Fuck the Port Mafia. Fuck his plan. He just wants to stay here with you, your lips brushing his, sharing the same sliver of air. He leans into your touch, groaning against your lips when he feels your walls spasm around him.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out, unsure if you can even understand him. “You’re so-”

His words fall off into another moan, and he can’t control his hips as they thrust up sharply against yours, another string of incoherent curses escaping his hips as your breath catches and you straighten back up, head falling back as you gasp his name.

Your nails dig crescents into his upper thighs through his bandages as you brace yourself back against them. You move your hips again—faster, this time, harder, and Dazai thinks his head is in the clouds. He’s so deep inside of you that he can feel everything, jaw falling slack as heat spreads through his body too rapidly for him to get control over. He wants to throw a hand over his mouth to muffle the lewd, pitched moans spilling from his lips but he can’t drag his hands from where they’re clawing at your hips, desperately trying to help you meet him with each thrust.

“I-hah-shit, I’m gonna-fuck-”

He slurs out your name and several obscenities, trying to warn you that he’s going to cum when he feels his cock twitching inside of you and his abdomen tensing, but you only lean down to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his lips and Dazai is gone. He wants to watch you, he tries, but he can’t hold his eyes open, they’re half-rolled back as he chokes over moans of your name, hips stilling as he cums deep inside of you. His body twitches, expression twisted as he presses his head so hard into the pillow that he thinks he might permanently indent it.

His head is spinning, lungs burning, sweat beading at his forehead and hair matted to his face—he thinks he’s never cum so hard in his entire life; all of the nights he spent alone, desperately trying to fuck his hand to the thought of you in attempts to mimic how you’ve made all the other Dazais feel, to give himself some semblance of the pleasure you’ve brought him in other lives to hold him over on particularly lonely nights, they’ve never felt like this.

You don’t stop, even as he squirms and lets out jumbled pleas beneath you, body shuddering at the overstimulation but you’re too lost in chasing your own high now. He spasms beneath you, nails digging into your thigh as you fuck his cum deeper inside of you, bouncing on his cock desperately. He doesn’t care that the sensitivity is pushing his body to the brink, letting you use him however you want if it means he gets to see you like this.

Dazai’s head feels light, pins and needles pricking his body—he thinks he might pass out but he forces himself to hold on, enraptured by the sight of you on top of him with your eyes half-rolled back, lips parted and throat bared to him. Your tits are half-spilling out over the low-cut of your dress and Dazai thinks you’re fucking divine. The only holy thing in this godless world. He wants to spend the rest of his life worshiping you.

“I’m gonna-” you gasp, head falling backward as one final roll of your hips that has your clit grinding against his pelvic bone sends you spiraling over the edge.

Dazai wants to sear the image of you behind his eyelids, watching as your nails drag against his thighs, drawing red lines even through the bandages, back arching, head tossed back—your body is trembling violently as you cum on his cock, expression twisted and entirely blissed out, sobbing over his name. He chokes and gasps at the feeling of your cunt tightening around his sensitive cock again, jaw tight and spots dancing in his vision as he’s so abruptly pushed over the edge a second time, the coil in his abdomen tightening and snapping all within the span of a few seconds.

He’s still reeling when he feels you slump forward onto his chest, burying your face in the crook of his neck, shivering in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He’s only half aware as he instinctively brings his hands up to rest on your hips, rubbing soft circles of your hip bones to try to soothe you.

He shudders when you press a kiss to his neck right at the edge of his bandages, and then tilt your head up to press another on his jaw. One of your hands comes up to caress the back of his head, fingers carding through the dark locks in a way that has his eyes drooping shut.

“We’re not done with this conversation,” you finally say after a few moments of silence, voice soft, breaking the silence. Dazai stiffens a bit, lips parting to respond but no words leave them. “... but let’s just lay like this for a while first, okay?”

He lets out a shaky breath, still not entirely convinced that he’s not going to lose you, so he lets his eyes flutter shut as he nods. He may as well bask in this for as long as he can, and if you notice the way his fingers dig just a little deeper into your skin after your words process, you don’t mention it.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “okay.”

Dazai wakes up the next morning and you’re nowhere to be seen. The bed is frighteningly cold next to him and his heart is instantly in his throat. He doesn’t waste a second before he’s sitting up in bed, looking around, eyes wild and heart racing. He doesn’t settle down, not until his eyes fall upon where you’re sitting curled up on the chair of the desk he never uses, eyes trained on the dark clouds outside the window, the beauty of the sunrise wilted by a morning storm.

“His intention was to make me leave you.” You’re not looking at him, but you must have heard him sit up. “Fyodor Dostoevsky. The things he told me, they were to make me leave you.”

Dazai doesn’t move an inch, throat swelling. He forces himself to ask, “What did he tell you?”

He isn’t sure if he wants to know.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say—Dazai thinks that it definitely does, but he bites back the questions that rise to his tongue because you’re clearly not about to budge on your answer. “Who is he?”

“A monster,” Dazai bites out, bitterness seeping into his tone as he leans back against the headboard, eyes still trained on where you’re curled on his chair, gaze distant. “You have to stay away from him.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on seeking him out,” you say it so dryly that Dazai nearly finds humor in it. Nearly. The smile that rises to his lips is mirthless at best. You turn to look at him, finally, and Dazai finds only cool indifference on your face; the fondness, the softness, the gentleness from last night are all gone. He wonders if you regret it, but he doesn’t let that thought linger, it’ll only make him sick. “... He doesn’t seem like the type to give up.”

“He never is,” Dazai murmurs, ignoring the brief, questioning look you direct toward him, mind drifting off to all of the Russian’s incessant attempts to take you from him in all of the other universes. “Did he tell you what his plan was?”

Dazai doubts it, but maybe there was something he said to you that shed some light to it.

“He didn’t have to,” you say quietly. “He wants Yokohama, for whatever reason—couldn’t figure that out, I think he’s looking for something—and clearly, he has to get through you to get it. He thinks the best way of getting through you is by taking me away from you first. That’s what I’d gathered from how he was talking at least, what he was saying about you, the way he was phrasing it. I’d put together enough on my own during the night to fill in the blanks. He told me things about what you’d done as… what you’d done as boss of the Port Mafia—things you’ve done to enemies… to allies. He told me that I’d see the real you as soon as you realize that the meeting he set up was a farce; that the mask you put up would crumble and I would see you for the demon that you are.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, jaw tight as he averts his gaze to the window—he’d played right into Dostoevsky’s hands. He can hardly bring himself to look at you; he wonders if you do see him differently now that the cloud from the night before has worn off, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Now’s not the time anyway, there are more pressing matters.

“... He’ll come after me again, won’t he?” you ask quietly. “Getting me to leave you willingly didn’t work. If he’s so set on me being the trigger to your downfall, then he’ll come after me again.”

He would. As he always has. Of course, Dostoevsky would try to get to him through you, he’s tried it in every universe, and Dazai hadn’t been careful enough. He hadn’t been smart enough. He’d known this was going to happen and was still arrogant enough to believe he could somehow prevent it. He was a fool, and he was a fool at the cost of your safety. He doesn’t know how to respond to you, he doesn’t want to confirm your suspicions, he doesn’t want to admit that this is all his fault, that he knew this would happen and was selfish enough to pursue you anyway.

“... I’m scared, Osamu,” you finally say quietly, and you suddenly look a lot smaller from where you’re sitting on his desk chair, hunched over with your knees tucked to your chest. “I’m really scared.”

Dazai’s heart claws up to his throat and he pushes himself out of bed, still dressed haphazardly in his suit from the night before. He makes his way over to you and kneels in front of you, hands curling around your ankles as he looks up at you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he tells you, voice a bit more raspier than he intended for it to come across as. “I don’t care what I have to do to ensure it, how low I have to stoop. I will not let anything happen to you, do you understand?”

Your eyes meet his, and he can’t help but notice that doubt still riddles your gaze as you search his face, as if you want to believe him but can’t bring yourself to. A pit starts to grow in his stomach, wide and gaping as he realizes that this is all really about to happen, and one mistake on his part could lead you to the same fate you’ve met in so many other worlds because of him.

Finally, the doubt slowly clears as you let out a soft breath, nodding, and Dazai inhales sharply, laying his forehead against your shin as he lets his eyes slide shut.

He won’t let it happen. Not again.

again there was NO plot development in the smut - you guys didn't miss out on anything, pinky swear. i restructured the scene to fit the only notable scene (bandage removal) into the part before the smut, so if that felt a little forced, that was why </3 it wasn't supposed to be there. i was struggling trying to figure out how to move it upward a bit. the only arguable "plot" development was dazai letting go of his control freakiness to let her take the lead

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu smut #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x you

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