#what was just another date in a long line of dates and people to her was something equal to a breakup to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jaefluenza · 2 days ago

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fractured (I Waited) part. 1

rich heirs!jeong jaehyun x reader (original character)

angst, slowburn, everything that makes you weep

13.300 words (one hell of a ride, huh?)

summary: an unexpected night of wine, laughter, and a kiss in the back of a taxi ignites a forbidden connection. behind closed doors, they begin a secret romance—each longing to escape the burden of legacy and fate. but love, in their world, is a dangerous game.

Tonight was supposed to be just another endless gala—tailored tuxedos, overcooked speeches, too much wine and far too little sincerity.

But as Jaehyun sat two tables away from his father, half-listening to a logistics minister speak about trade reform, his attention wavered. Something tugged at his focus like a thread slowly unraveling the night’s dull tapestry.

Her.

She wasn’t flashy. She wasn’t even smiling. Head slightly lowered, her eyes flicked to her plate occasionally like she was counting rice grains for comfort. Not once did she engage with the over-loud laughter or the shallow flattery that bounced across her table.

Two seconds. Then five. Ten. Jaehyun’s gaze lingered.

“Who’s that?” he leaned slightly toward his father’s secretary, barely masking his curiosity.

The secretary followed his line of sight. “Ah. That’s Miss (Y/n) Kim. Engaged to Mr. Callum Wright.”

Callum?

Jaehyun’s brows twitched.

Callum Wright. Of all people. His old dormmate from Cambridge—the one with the sharp suits and dull humor, the trust fund baby who thought misogyny was charisma. Jaehyun could still remember the way Callum used to joke about women like they were punchlines.

He shifted in his seat, suddenly colder.

And yet there she was—Callum’s fiancée—so clearly disinterested in everything around her. Not out of arrogance, no. There was something else. A quiet restraint. Like she was pretending to belong.

He watched her again. This time more carefully. Her left hand rested on her lap, absent of jewelry. Her fork moved, but she barely ate. When Callum leaned over to whisper something, she flinched—barely, but Jaehyun caught it. A subtle pull back of her shoulders. As if her body knew something she was too polite to say.

Jaehyun exhaled.

His father nudged him. “What’s got you looking like that?”

Jaehyun blinked and looked away. “Nothing. Just an old friend,” he replied. But it wasn’t Callum he meant. It was her.

Callum’s voice rose above the clink of cutlery.

“And she thinks Nietzsche was a romantic. Can you believe that?” he laughed, loud and sharp, practically elbowing the man next to him. “I told her, darling, no man who says ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ has ever dated you.”

The table erupted in awkward laughter, a few stifled, a few loud enough to mask discomfort.

Except hers.

She lifted her wine glass, lips pressing into the gentlest smile—a performance, and a good one. She let the joke pass without a single twitch in her posture. Then, placing the glass down, she stood.

“Excuse me,” she said softly, so calmly it almost sliced through the tension like silk. She didn’t wait for Callum’s response. She just walked.

Jaehyun sat back, eyes narrowing slightly. He wasn’t sure what bothered him more—Callum’s insufferable condescension or the way she handled it with such poised silence, like she’d been trained to endure embarrassment her whole life.

He rose a few minutes later, murmuring something about a phone call to his father. No one noticed—except maybe his father’s secretary, who gave him a look. But said nothing.

He spotted her on the far side of the marble hall, just past the long curtains that draped over the glass doors.

The balcony was dimly lit, open to the warm summer air. And there she was.

She stood there alone, arms crossed, her pale dress catching the moonlight. She lit a cigarette with steady fingers, exhaled slowly, and closed her eyes for a moment—as if she needed this breath more than anything else.

“You know that’s going to kill you,” Jaehyun said, stepping out onto the balcony.

She didn’t flinch.

“Maybe,” she said. “But at least it doesn’t talk.”

A beat. Then she turned her head, meeting his eyes for the first time that night. “You’re… Jeong Jaehyun, right? Chairman Jeong’s son.”

He nodded slowly. “And you’re Callum Wright’s fiancée.”

She gave a short, bitter laugh and took another drag.

“Unfortunately.”

He leaned against the railing beside her, watching the city lights stretch like a sea of gold beneath them. “I didn’t expect to see him tonight. Or you. Though I guess that was the point.”

Her shoulders dropped, a small sign of weariness.

“You knew him in Cambridge?”

“Unfortunately,” Jaehyun echoed, smirking. “He still thinks degrading women is a form of humor, I see.”

She didn’t reply. “I used to think I could fix that,” she murmured.

Silence settled between them. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just… honest.

He glanced at her. “You deserve better than to be the butt of someone’s punchline.”

She turned slightly, really looking at him now.

And Jaehyun… felt it. That quiet in her eyes. That storm behind the calm. This wasn’t going to be another predictable gala after all.

She took another slow drag, the glow of the cigarette briefly lighting the fine bones of her face. When she exhaled, it wasn’t just smoke—it was something deeper. Tiredness. Disappointment wrapped in elegance.

“Nice to meet you, Jeong,” she said, tone clipped but not impolite. Her eyes didn’t soften. “But I don’t need pity.”

Jaehyun let out a breath, half a chuckle. “That’s good,” he replied, unfazed. “Because I’m not offering any.”

She turned her head slightly, an eyebrow raised.

He continued, calm and measured, “I’ve just seen enough women shrink in rooms like these. Laugh along. Stay seated. You didn’t. That’s rare.”

She held his gaze for a moment, then glanced back out at the skyline. Her voice was quieter this time.

“Leaving a table doesn’t mean I win anything, Jeong.”

“No,” he said. “But it means you still know when to walk away.”

That got a real smile. Barely there, but unmistakable.

The wind tugged lightly at her hair. She tucked a strand behind her ear, the cigarette now forgotten between her fingers.

“Do you always follow strangers out of rooms?” she asked, almost teasing.

“Only when they look like they’re pretending not to break.”

She stared at him.

And something shifted. Not trust. Not yet. But a small dent in the wall she’d so carefully built.

“I wasn’t pretending,” she finally said. “I’m just good at breaking quietly.”

Another silence passed between them. This one different. Warmer. Quieter. Like a secret the stars were letting them borrow.

Then Jaehyun said, “Still. For what it’s worth, Nietzsche was a romantic.”

That drew a soft laugh from her lips. Genuine this time. It surprised even her.

She glanced at him sideways. “You might be the first person in this building tonight with actual thoughts.”

He shrugged lightly. “Comes with reading books instead of company reports.”

She stubbed her cigarette against the marble ledge, letting it die in silence.

When she looked at him again, the wind caught her hair just enough to make her seem a little freer.

“Goodnight, Jeong Jaehyun.”

He watched her go—head high, back straight.

And for the first time all evening, Jaehyun wasn’t just thinking about deals or names or family expectations.

He was thinking about her.

A woman with smoke in her lungs and quiet storms in her eyes.

The valet entrance was dimly lit—just enough for the gleam of polished cars and scuffed heels to glint under amber lamps. Most guests had long left the gala, but Callum and (Y/n) stood near the curb, mid-argument. Again.

"I said I’ll get a car myself, Callum," She snapped, stepping back from his reach.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he hissed, voice laced with booze and bruised ego. “Always making a scene. No wonder people—”

“I’m not making a scene. I’m trying to leave before you embarrass me further.”

Callum’s jaw clenched. He stepped closer, voice dropping to something darker. “You think you’re some kind of saint? You think just because you can quote philosophy, you’re better than me?”

When she didn’t respond, his hand twitched. Raised. Not high, but just enough to say I could.

That’s when the voice came.

“Hey, Wright! Fancy seeing you here.”

Callum froze.

Her eyes flicked past his shoulder—and softened.

Jaehyun was leaning casually against a parked black car behind them, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone. But his posture was deceptive. His tone wasn’t friendly.

Callum turned, schooling his face into a grin. “Jeong. Still lurking around the fringes of galas, I see?”

Jaehyun’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Hard to lurk when you’re the heir to the building the gala was held in.”

That shut Callum up, if only for a second.

Jaehyun slowly walked over, his gaze never leaving (Y/n)—checking her, scanning for tremors, for hurt. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes lingered on him a beat too long. Enough for him to see it. The flicker of fear she'd just buried.

“I didn’t know you were into vintage temper tantrums,” Jaehyun said, his voice laced with cold amusement. “They don’t really suit you.”

Callum chuckled tightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s a relationship. We argue. You wouldn’t understand.”

Jaehyun stopped in front of them.

“Oh, I understand arguing,” he said. “I just draw the line at fear.”

The weight of his words dropped heavy.

Callum looked at his fiancée then, clearly unnerved. “What, you running to your new savior now?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.

Jaehyun turned to her gently. “Would you like a ride home, Miss Kim?”

She hesitated. But only for a moment. “Yes.”

Callum stepped forward, “(Y/n)—”

Jaehyun turned slightly, his voice like ice now. “Try raising your hand again. See what happens.”

The silence cracked like thunder.

She stepped around Callum, chin lifted, heels clicking as she moved beside Jaehyun without a glance back. When she got in the car and the door shut, Jaehyun didn’t follow right away.

He stared at Callum one last time, jaw tight. “Your jokes were always trash. But this? This is a new low.”

And with that, he walked to the driver’s side, slid in, and drove her away. The city passed by in streaks of light.

Inside the car, silence reigned. Then, softly, she said, “You didn’t have to.”

Jaehyun kept his eyes on the road. “I wanted to.”

And for the first time in a long, long while… She believed someone meant it.

The car rolled to a gentle stop in front of a quiet, tucked-away building downtown—a place that didn’t scream luxury, but whispered exclusivity. No velvet ropes, no flashy signs. Just a narrow brass plaque on the door that read VIOLET HOUR.

She glanced out the window, unsure. “This isn’t my apartment.”

Jaehyun looked over at her. His expression unreadable, but calm. “It’s not.”

A pause. Then—

“Would you have a sip of wine with me? Just one. I have a place. Quiet. No Callum. No noise.”

(Y/n) blinked.

He wasn’t pushing. Just… offering.

She considered him for a moment. And then, maybe because the night already broke all the rules, maybe because she was tired of going home to silence—or worse, him—she nodded.

Inside, the bar was dimly lit, tucked behind velvet curtains and shelves lined with old books. The air smelled like aged oak and violet gin. A jazz trio played softly in the corner. And at the very back was a table reserved under “J. Jeong”—of course it was.

“I come here when I don’t want to be anyone,” Jaehyun said as he held her chair out. “No heirs. No cameras. Just good music and older wine.”

She settled in, eyeing the space like she wasn’t sure how real it was. “Do you bring women here often?”

He smiled faintly. “No. Just myself. And the occasional ghost of a good decision.”

She smirked. “That’s poetic.”

“I try,” he said, lifting a hand to the bartender. “Red or white?”

“Red,” she replied, then quickly added, “Dry.”

He nodded in approval. “Good choice.”

A few minutes later, two glasses of aged Bordeaux were placed between them.

They clinked glasses softly.

“To surviving galas,” he offered.

(Y/n) tilted her head. “To escaping them.”

They sipped.

And for the first time that night, she wasn’t guarding her every word.

“So,” she asked, swirling her wine gently, “what were you doing watching me at dinner?”

Jaehyun leaned back, glass in hand, eyes steady on hers.

“You looked like someone who needed someone to see her,” he said simply.

Her fingers stilled on the stem of the glass.

“You always talk like that?”

He smiled, slow and unhurried. “Only when I mean it.”

She looked down, then looked back at him—more curious now than guarded.

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the warmth of a stranger who didn’t feel like one.

But she found herself asking, “And what do you see now?”

Jaehyun met her gaze, long and deep.

“A woman who deserves more than what she’s settling for.”

The jazz hummed. The wine warmed her fingertips. And (Y/n), for the first time in years, forgot what settling even felt like.

The wine crept into their veins like warm ink—slow and smooth, softening edges, blurring hesitations.

By the time they stumbled out of Violet Hour, the city had thinned. Midnight wind curled gently around them as they stood on the curb, his coat draped over her shoulders.

“You can’t possibly walk in those heels,” Jaehyun said, grinning, as she tripped slightly over a crack in the pavement.

“I’m floating,” She defended herself, squinting dramatically at the sidewalk. “There’s a difference.”

He laughed, then raised his hand to hail a taxi. A yellow cab pulled up like fate answering a dare.

They slid into the backseat, her body leaning toward his, knees brushing.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

She opened her mouth, but Jaehyun beat her to it. “Just drive for a bit. We’ll give the address later.”

The driver shrugged and pulled off.

Inside the cab, the lights of the city flickered through the window, gold spilling across her face. She turned to him, tipsy and untamed, her laughter still caught on her lips.

“You really ordered wine like you were naming your firstborn,” she teased, poking his arm lightly. “You said ‘2009 Saint-Émilion’ like it was a love confession.”

“That was a love confession,” Jaehyun said with mock seriousness. “To fermented greatness.”

She giggled, leaning her head back against the seat. “God, you’re so different from how I imagined you’d be.”

He looked at her, curious. “And how did you imagine me?”

“I don’t know. Cold. Bored. Born in a boardroom.”

Jaehyun smiled, quiet for a beat. “You bring out something lighter.”

She turned her head, eyes meeting his in the dark.

Neither of them was laughing now.

The taxi rolled over a smooth patch of road, quiet.

His hand was close. She didn’t move away.

And then it happened. A pause—one beat too long, one look too deep. Then, with a breath barely shared, Jaehyun leaned in.

Their lips met in a slow, quiet kiss that tasted like red wine and curiosity, like something they weren’t supposed to touch but couldn’t help reaching for. It was gentle at first, unsure. Then deeper, as if the space between them had always been meant to disappear.

Her fingers lightly curled around the lapel of his coat, holding on just enough to not feel like she was falling.

When they pulled apart, the only sound was their breath mingling, and the hum of tires on asphalt. Jaehyun rested his forehead against hers.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

She blinked up at him, dazed. “Are you?”

He grinned, slightly flushed. “Not even a little.”

She smiled.

“Good.”

Outside, the city kept spinning. But in the backseat of that taxi, it finally felt like something had stopped—just long enough for something unexpected to begin.

The taxi slowed in front of a quiet, upscale apartment building tucked behind rows of sleeping trees. The streetlight cast a soft amber glow over the sidewalk as Jaehyun looked out the window, then back at her.

“This is me,” (Y/n) whispered, voice low, like she didn’t want to admit it.

Their laughter from moments ago still lingered faintly in the air—fading like the warmth of the wine on their cheeks. The kiss hovered between them, a line neither of them had expected to cross, yet neither regretted.

Jaehyun leaned forward, signaling the driver to stop.

She hesitated. Her hand hovered at the door handle, but she turned to face him one last time. The buzz of the night still hummed in her skin, but her eyes were soberer now—too clear, too aware.

“You’re not coming up,” she said, more like a statement than a question.

Jaehyun shook his head slowly. “No. You’ve had enough noise for one night.”

She smiled softly at that. The kind of smile that held something unspoken. Gratitude. Tension. Maybe even disappointment. Or relief.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said.

“For the wine?” he asked, a playful tilt to his head.

“And that,” she said, eyes flicking briefly to his lips.

A silence settled. Not awkward. Just… filled with the weight of everything they didn’t say.

Then she opened the door and stepped out, the night breeze tousling her hair gently as she pulled his coat tighter around her.

Before closing the door, she leaned down.

“Goodnight, Jeong.”

He gave her a half-smile, hand resting against the seat where her warmth still lingered.

“Goodnight, Miss Kim.”

The door shut with a soft click.

She didn’t look back as she walked toward the lobby. Didn’t need to.

And Jaehyun… sat still for a moment before tapping the driver’s shoulder.

“Take me home.”

As the taxi pulled away from the curb and swallowed him back into the city night, Jaehyun leaned his head against the window, lips brushing into a quiet smile.

Whatever that was—it had just begun.

(Y/n) stirred awake to golden light spilling through her curtains, cutting soft lines across the bedsheets. She blinked slowly, the ceiling unfamiliar for a moment before reality returned like a slow tide.

Last night.

The wine. The bar. His voice. That kiss in the back of the taxi.

Her hand moved to her lips almost instinctively—half in disbelief, half to feel if it had really happened.

She groaned, turning to bury her face into the pillow.

“What were you thinking,” she whispered to herself.

It wasn’t like her. She didn’t kiss strangers. She didn’t linger in bars past midnight. And she definitely didn’t fall for warm eyes and subtle wit over a bottle of Saint-Émilion.

But then again, he wasn’t a stranger, was he?

Not anymore. And maybe that was the problem.

Across town, Jaehyun stood by the window of his penthouse, freshly showered, shirt half-buttoned, coffee cooling untouched in his hand.

The skyline spread before him, glass and light and quiet Sunday haze—but his mind wasn’t on business, or the brunch his mother scheduled with some ambassador’s daughter.

His mind was back there—in that cab, in that kiss, in the soft way she’d said goodnight without looking back.

He hadn’t meant for it to happen.

He hadn’t planned any of it.

But her laughter—unfiltered, slightly wine-blurred—had felt like a thread tugging loose something inside him. And that kiss…

It was supposed to be harmless. But the way her fingers had curled around his coat? That had ruined him.

His phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number.

He opened it.

Unknown: Did you leave your coat on purpose, Jeong? Or was it your way of claiming a second nightcap?

He stared at the screen for a moment—then smiled.

Wide. Quiet. Defeated.

And typed back.

Jaehyun: Depends. Did you hold onto it for warmth… or for me?

Send.

He walked back to his coffee, finally taking a sip, as across town, she laughed softly into her phone. And neither of them could quite believe how much they were already in it.

The memory came back to her like a scent—subtle, warm, and out of nowhere.

She had just rested her head against the cold window in the back of the taxi, the wine making her thoughts soft and slow. Somewhere between the fading glow of the city lights and the hush between their shared laughter, she’d hugged herself against the creeping chill.

Then she felt it.

A shift beside her. The rustle of wool. And suddenly, Jaehyun’s coat was draped over her shoulders.

She turned her head slightly, eyes meeting his in the cab’s dim light. He didn’t say anything—didn’t offer some suave line, didn’t wait for praise. Just… reached over, adjusted the lapel gently, and leaned back.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world to take care of her.

She remembered how big it felt on her. How warm. How he smelled like cedar wood and something clean. How her fingers had curled into the collar without thinking—holding it like a fragile secret she wasn’t ready to let go of.

And when the taxi stopped in front of her apartment, he didn’t ask for it back.

He just watched her step out wearing it, like it belonged to her more than it ever did to him.

She sat up in bed now, that same coat hanging over her vanity chair like it had been waiting to be noticed.

Her eyes lingered on it for a long time. He hadn’t said a word about it when they said goodnight. Hadn’t asked. Hadn’t hinted.

Which only made her wonder more—

Had he meant to leave it? Or had he known she would?

And somehow… that made it harder to breathe.

The sound of the front door slamming made (Y/n) jolt upright in bed.

She didn’t even have time to reach for the coat before—

“(Y/n)!” Callum’s voice tore through the apartment, heavy with rage.

Her bedroom door burst open without warning.

There he stood—jaw clenched, eyes wild, still in yesterday’s dress shirt with the collar undone and buttons half-missing, as if he hadn’t slept.

Her heart jumped to her throat, but she forced her voice steady.

“You can’t just barge in—”

“You left me,” he spat, stepping closer. “You walked out like a selfish little brat in the middle of everything!”

“I walked out before you raised your hand again,” she snapped, standing up, not bothering to hide the anger in her voice. “I warned you, Callum.”

He ignored her, his eyes flicking around the room until they landed—on the coat.

Jaehyun’s coat.

Hanging delicately over her vanity, still smelling like last night. Still whispering everything unspoken between her and another man.

Callum’s expression darkened instantly.

“What the hell is that?” he growled, pointing.

(Y/n) stepped between him and the coat. “It’s not yours. And don’t you dare—”

“You left with him.” He laughed, bitter and broken. “Jesus, (Y/n). I knew it. I knew there was something off. You flirted with him all night like a bored housewife looking for trouble.”

She didn’t flinch. Not this time.

“He noticed me. That’s all it took to feel like I was worth something last night.”

His nostrils flared. “So what? You sleep with him now, is that it? You going to run off and be Mrs. Heir of the Year?”

Her voice turned icy. “Nothing happened. Not that it’s any of your business anymore.”

Callum took a threatening step forward. “Oh, it’s still my business until this ring comes off.”

She didn’t move. “Then take it.”

She slid the ring from her finger and placed it flat on the table.

Silence hung in the air like smoke. Thick. Unbearable.

He stared at it—then at her. And for the first time, he looked small.

Weak. Exposed.

“You’ll regret this,” he muttered, voice lower now. But it wasn’t a threat—it was desperation. “He won’t want someone like you in the end. They never do.”

She stared at him. Her voice was soft, but ironclad.

“Then I’ll take that chance.”

He lingered for a second longer, eyes hard.

And then he turned and left—door slamming shut behind him like a final punctuation mark on something she should’ve ended long ago.

She stood there, alone. Shaken. Quiet. Then slowly, she walked to the vanity chair and pulled Jaehyun’s coat into her arms. And for the first time in months, she didn’t feel cold.

The Jeong household was always quiet in the morning—elegant, controlled, like everything else in their carefully curated rich people world.

But today, it was different.

Jaehyun walked down the grand staircase with a slight bounce in his step, sleeves rolled up casually, hair still a little tousled from sleep. He was humming—humming—a melody under his breath as he scrolled through his phone, a half-smile lingering on his lips like he was replaying a private joke in his head.

His mother, seated in the sunlit dining room with her tea and the business section of the paper folded neatly beside her, didn’t even look up at first.

Until he poured orange juice instead of black coffee.

Until he greeted the maid with an actual “Good morning,” instead of his usual distracted nod.

Until he sat down and—smiled—without any prompting.

That’s when Mrs. Jeong slowly lowered her newspaper.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re… chirpy.”

Jaehyun looked up from his phone. “Hm?”

“Smiling. Humming. Drinking orange juice like you’ve never tasted bitterness in your life.” She set her teacup down. “That only happens when you're hiding something.”

He chuckled. “Maybe I’m just in a good mood.”

“You haven’t been in a ‘good mood’ since your Harvard acceptance letter.”

“Cambridge.”

“Exactly.” She squinted at him. “Who is she?”

Jaehyun froze—just for a beat—but then took a sip of his juice, like he wasn’t at all caught off guard.

“There’s no ‘she.’”

His mother leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand.

“You’re humming, Jaehyun. At eight in the morning. That’s either love or psychosis, and frankly, I know your father's genes. So—who is she?”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “It’s not what you think.”

“So there is someone.”

He gave in with a breathy laugh, leaning back in his chair. “Let’s just say… she’s not someone you’d expect.”

Mrs. Jeong raised a perfectly arched brow. “Oh dear. Not a politician’s daughter, then.”

“No.”

“Not an heiress?”

He shook his head.

“Not someone who’ll say yes to our usual background checks?”

His grin widened. “Definitely not.”

Mrs. Jeong sat back, eyes thoughtful now. “Well, well. How refreshing.”

Jaehyun locked his phone and pocketed it, standing up and kissing her cheek.

“I’ll be out for a bit.”

“Tell her I said good morning,” his mother said casually.

He paused, amused. “I never said I’d see her.”

“You didn’t have to,” she replied, sipping her tea again. “You’re wearing that smile, darling. The kind your father only ever wears when he’s closing billion-dollar deals… or when he sees me in diamonds.”

Jaehyun laughed and walked off, already pulling out his phone.

And the first thing he did? Text her.

Jaehyun: You still have my coat. I was thinking of trading it back… for breakfast.Or lunch. Or just another excuse to see you.

9:43 AM – Busy Heart of Seoul

Somewhere between the relentless buzz of traffic and the lull of weekend cafés, a table waited tucked under a striped awning in a little corner of Samcheong-dong—casual, pretty, nothing like the high-rise towers they both came from.

(Y/n) arrived first, Jaehyun’s coat folded neatly over her arm. Sunglasses perched on her nose, hair pulled back in a soft twist. She wore a white shirt half-tucked into light jeans—effortlessly simple. Her fingers tapped her phone like she wasn’t checking the time every other second.

Until—

“Miss Kim.” His voice.

She looked up.

There he was, slipping through the tables with that lazy sort of grace. Crisp linen shirt, a hand casually in his pocket, the other carrying two coffees he must’ve picked up on the way.

“I wasn’t sure if you drink americanos or flat whites,” he said, setting both cups down. “So I brought both. Judge me later.”

She tried to hide her smile. “A little early for charm, don’t you think?”

“It’s brunch,” he replied, sliding into the chair across from her. “The hour of unapologetic charm and poor decisions.”

She chuckled, finally relaxing. He glanced at the coat draped over her chair.

“So you did hold onto it for me.”

She arched a brow. “You left it on me. I assumed it came with conditions.”

“Only one,” he said, picking up his cup. “You’d have to see me again.”

A pause. The way her lips parted slightly, like she hadn’t expected him to say it out loud.

“Well,” she said softly. “Here I am.”

The waitress came by, and they ordered—eggs for him, ricotta toast for her, and something sweet to share, after too much smiling and “just pick one then.”

The city moved around them in a blur of footsteps and horns and chatter. But inside their little bubble, the pace slowed. Conversation flowed like they'd done this before. Like it was familiar. Easy. Strange.

He asked about her work—she barely answered. She asked about his family—he hesitated, then told her stories that weren’t in any news article.

Halfway through the meal, she looked up at him, fingers curled around her coffee cup.

“You’re not what I expected.”

“Let me guess,” he said, brushing croissant crumbs from his sleeve, “cold, controlled, probably soulless?”

“I was going to say... rehearsed.”

He smiled. “And now?”

“Still a little rehearsed,” she said. “But you improvise better than I thought.”

He laughed.

They lingered. Long after their plates were cleared, long after the staff began wiping down other tables. Neither moved. Like the moment might vanish if either stood.

Finally, he leaned forward.

“So… can I see you again?”

She tilted her head, lips curling into something dangerous and amused.

“You already are.”

Jaehyun grinned, heart thudding louder than he'd like to admit.

The city roared around them. And still—

She was the only sound he could hear.

The mood shifted days later—quickly, sharply. Like a sudden drop in temperature before a storm.

(Y/n) had just come home from a quiet lunch with Jaehyun, her cheeks still warm from the way he’d tucked her hair behind her ear like he meant it. Her phone buzzed before she could even kick off her shoes.

Dad: We need to talk.Now.

She didn’t like texts like that.

That night, the Kim residence was colder than usual—despite the summer air hanging heavy outside the windows. The family gathered in the formal sitting room, where serious conversations had always happened. Not in bedrooms. Not over meals. Here. Among portraits and imported silence.

(Y/n) stood facing her father, her mother seated quietly on the velvet sofa, eyes darting from her husband’s clenched fists to her daughter’s defiant stance.

He barely looked up. “What did you do to Callum Wright?”

The air thinned.

She blinked. “I left him.”

“You humiliated him.”

“I left quietly. It’s not my fault if he—”

“Well, he’s making it your fault,” Mr. Kim said sharply, tossing a document onto the table. “Wright Holdings pulled out of the Busan logistics joint project. Said our team suddenly 'lacks professional integrity.’ He’s hinting at legal friction. He’s stalling payments to the suppliers to cause noise. Petty, intentional, and very, very public.”

Her stomach dropped.

She stepped forward, reading the email. Sure enough—Callum’s name, laced with vague threats dressed in polished corporate language.

“He’s trying to blackmail you,” she muttered. “He’s using your company to punish me.”

Mr. Kim leaned back, breathing hard through his nose.

“I warned you about him. I tolerated the engagement for business. And now it’s costing me everything I built.”

Her jaw tightened. “Then let me fix it.”

Her father scoffed bitterly. “How? By going back to him? Or running to your secret boyfriend and asking for favors?”

The words stung.

Mr. Kim set his glass down with a sharp clink.

“I know about Jeong Jaehyun.”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t move. “How?”

He scoffed. “The world watches chaebol heirs like hawks, (Y/n). You think I wouldn’t hear about you leaving a gala with him? Or that he sent you flowers at your office the next day?”

Her face flushed—rage, not shame. “So you’ve been spying on me.”

“I’ve been protecting my company!” he snapped. “Our name. Our reputation. And you—running around Seoul like a little girl caught in a daydream with the son of our competitor—”

“He’s not—”

“He’s exactly that!” her father thundered. “And worse, his existence gives Callum every excuse he needs to destroy what we’ve built. The Wrights are petty. Powerful. And now they’re furious.”

Mrs. Kim finally spoke. Softly. “Your father already met with Callum’s side. They’re willing to resume the contract… but under one condition.”

(Y/n) turned slowly.

“No.”

Mr. Kim didn’t blink. “Yes.”

“I said no.”

“You will go through with the arrangement. The engagement stands. The wedding will be private, swift, and diplomatic.”

“You can’t force me into a marriage to save your ego and call it business.”

Her father stood, his voice low now. Dangerous.

“You don’t understand what this family risks. This company is our life. Your brothers’ futures. Your mother’s security. Do you think Jaehyun will marry you and take on our debts if this falls apart?”

She stared at him.

Something in her chest cracked. Quietly. Like frost underfoot.

And when she spoke, her voice was even.

“So you’d sell me to a man who’s raised his hand to me just to keep your empire alive?”

Her mother looked down. Her father’s jaw flexed, but he said nothing.

She stepped back.

Tears threatened, but none fell. She wouldn’t give them that.

“I’m not a business deal, Appa.”

And she turned to leave.

But just before she reached the door, his voice called after her.

“If you walk out now… you are no longer a Kim in my house.”

She paused only a second.

Then kept walking.

And for the first time in her life, the name (Y/n) Kim sounded nothing like home.

The silence came suddenly. No warning. No soft fade-out. Just a wall.

One night, Jaehyun sent her a picture of a café that looked like the one they joked about opening someday—half-serious, half-silly, full of plans that weren’t quite real yet.

No reply.

The next morning, he texted again.

Jaehyun: Lunch? I found a place that makes ricotta toast better than ours. Impossible, I know.

Still nothing.

By evening, he called. It rang four times. Then voicemail.

The next day? Delivered. But not read. He tried again.

Jaehyun:Did something happen?Are you okay?

Nothing.

Three days passed.

Four.

His messages turned shorter. Less playful. More desperate.

Jaehyun: (Y/n).Just tell me you’re okay. Please.

Silence.

He scrolled through their old texts. Her voice lived there still—light, teasing, real. “You’re not as rehearsed as I thought.” “Then I’ll take that chance.”

What changed?

What happened?

She wouldn’t just vanish. Not her.

Unless someone made her.

Unless someone forced her to.

His eyes darkened.

His mother had warned him. “You’re smiling. That only means two things—love or trouble.”

Now both had arrived. And Jaehyun, for all his charm, power, and calm, had never felt so helpless.

But he knew one thing for sure. If she wouldn’t come to him—

He’d go to her.

The charity luxury bazaar was held in a grand hotel ballroom in Gangnam—walls draped in cream silk, golden chandeliers glinting over tables adorned with limited-edition designer items, curated perfumes, and exclusive art. Seoul’s elite milled about with practiced elegance, champagne flutes in hand, auction paddles tucked under their arms.

Jaehyun was barely paying attention.

He hadn’t planned to be here. He rarely attended bazaars like this unless dragged by his mother or forced by shareholders.

But the moment he walked through the entrance, he felt her.

Not heard. Not seen.

Felt.

Then he saw her.

Across the room, at a table for silent jewelry bids, stood (Y/n).

Hair tied in a simple black ribbon. Long navy dress hugging her frame. Her movements elegant, restrained. Her face—neutral. Cool. Almost unreadable. Almost.

But he knew her too well.

She was pretending.

And she hadn’t noticed him yet.

His chest tightened.

He made his way toward her slowly, carefully, threading through the crowd until they were just a few steps apart. Her back was to him, her attention on a vintage sapphire choker. She tilted her head slightly—graceful, composed.

And then—

“Didn’t think I’d find you beside something that steals the spotlight.”

She froze.

Her hand faltered ever so slightly above the bid card.

She turned, slowly, forcing her face into something neutral—polished, poised.

“Jaehyun,” she said. Like it didn’t ache to say it. “Didn’t expect you here.”

“I could say the same.”

“Your family’s hosting the wine booth. Of course you’re here.”

He stared at her. Searching. Studying.

“You stopped replying.”

Her eyes flicked away. “I’ve been busy.”

“That’s not a reason. That’s a strategy.”

She drew in a breath, jaw tightening.

“(Y/n),” he said, softer now, “why?”

People brushed past them in silk and scent, but their corner of the room suddenly felt carved out of time.

She turned back to the display, avoiding his eyes. “Because I can’t afford to see you.”

“Is someone stopping you?”

Silence.

“(Y/n). Is it your father? Is it—”

“Yes.” Her voice broke through like glass.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Talk to me. I can help. You know I can—”

She turned to him now, eyes glossy, face trembling despite her best efforts.

“You think I want this? That I chose silence over you?”

“Then why?”

“Because if I kept talking to you, Jaehyun…” her voice cracked, “I wouldn’t stop. I would’ve run to you, begged you to take me away, thrown away every plan, every duty—everything my family built.”

“And that’s wrong?”

“In their world, yes.” She swallowed. “In their world, I’m a bargaining chip. And you’re the competition.”

He looked at her—truly looked—and saw the war behind her eyes.

“You’re not theirs to trade.”

“No,” she said quietly. “But they’re still my family.”

He didn’t reach for her hand. Not here. Not now. But his voice dropped to something only she could hear.

“I’ll fight for you. You know that, don’t you?”

She blinked away tears. “I’m afraid… I’ll let you.”

A silence.

Then, through the hum of luxury and politeness, a woman called her name—Mrs. Wright, a lady from a British import firm, gesturing politely from across the room.

(Y/n) turned to Jaehyun one last time.

“I have to go.”

Later, at 6 p.m., all his texts were finally marked as read—followed by a few short, tightly packed reply bubbles.

(Y/n): There’s a coffee shop in Sinsadong. Sunday. 3 PM. I don’t know what I’ll choose yet. But I want to see you… before I forget how.

Sunday – 2:56 PM – Sinsadong

The little café sat at the corner of a quiet street, bathed in soft July light. It wasn’t grand or exclusive—just a narrow space with floor-to-ceiling windows, a row of books by the counter, and coffee that smelled like memory.

Jaehyun arrived early.

Of course he did.

He’d been sitting at the corner booth for twenty minutes, one hand nursing an untouched espresso, the other tapping lightly against the wood grain of the table. His watch ticked. Every time the door chimed, he looked up.

But it wasn’t her.

Not yet.

He reread her note for the third time, now slightly crumpled in his pocket. “I want to see you… before I forget how.”

It killed him.

The fact that she even thought she’d need to forget.

Then— The bell above the door rang.

She stepped in.

Hair tucked neatly behind her ears, long cream coat unbuttoned over a soft navy dress. No jewelry this time. Just her. Real. Tired. Beautiful.

Their eyes met instantly. And the world quieted.

She walked toward him slowly, like every step was its own decision.

He stood up.

She didn’t speak until she sat down across from him.

“I almost didn’t come,” she said softly, setting her hands on the table. “I got out of the car twice.”

Jaehyun smiled faintly. “I came an hour early. Thought about leaving every ten minutes.”

They both laughed. Gently. Carefully. Like they’d forgotten how.

“I feel like I owe you a thousand explanations,” she whispered.

“You don’t owe me anything, (Y/n).”

“I do,” she said, firmer this time. “I left you in the dark. On purpose. And that’s not who I am. Not with you.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he asked, “So why did you come?”

She hesitated.

Then said, “Because I still want you to fight for me.”

Her voice shook.

“I told you I was afraid I’d let you. But the truth is… I already have. Every time I don’t answer you, it hurts. Every time I pretend I don’t know you, it feels like I’m betraying something real. Something ours.”

Jaehyun’s jaw clenched as he fought the urge to reach across the table and pull her in. But he let her speak.

“My family’s already preparing for the engagement announcement. My father told me to smile when it happens, and to act like nothing’s wrong. But I’m not made for this, Jaehyun. I wasn’t built to belong to someone I don’t love.”

He looked at her then, eyes dark with something steady.

“I won’t let them take you.”

Her throat tightened. “They already are.”

“No,” he said, voice firm now. “They’re bluffing with fear. You said yes to meeting me. That means there’s still a choice.”

She swallowed hard. “So what do I do?”

Jaehyun leaned forward, lowering his voice.

“We do this carefully. Quietly. My lawyers—our family lawyers—they can review your father’s contract with the Wrights. We look for pressure points. You don’t have to go back into that house alone. I won’t let you.”

She looked at him like she hadn’t heard the word we in years.

“But if this goes public,” she whispered, “they’ll destroy you too.”

“I’ve faced worse,” he replied calmly. “Boardrooms are just battlefields with better tailoring.”

She almost smiled.

Almost.

He reached across the table then—gently—and placed his hand over hers.

Warm. Steady. Like home.

“No more running, (Y/n)”

She nodded, barely, eyes glimmering.

“Okay.”

And in that quiet corner café, while the world spun outside and fate clawed at the edges of their peace, they chose something terrifying—

Each other.

They started low-key, hidden, careful, quiet—but every stolen moment felt louder than anything in their public lives.

She kept her head down. At galas, she walked beside Callum with the right smile. In photos, she wore the ring her father wanted the world to see. To the world, she was the composed fiancée of the British heir, the dutiful daughter of a family driven by legacy.

But after the flashbulbs dimmed and the applause faded, she slipped into back doors, late-night taxis, and elevator shafts that opened straight into Jaehyun’s penthouse—her true refuge.

They didn’t talk about the danger.

They just… were.

9:42 PM, Jaehyun’s apartment

(Y/n) padded barefoot into the kitchen in his oversized shirt, hair slightly damp from the shower. Jaehyun leaned on the counter, sleeves rolled up, plating takeout dumplings like they were fine cuisine.

She stole a slice of pickled radish. He gave her a look. She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Your idea of dinner is always three hours late,” she said.

“My idea of love is always worth waiting for,” he replied.

She snorted. “You rehearsed that, didn’t you?”

“A little.” He smiled, handing her chopsticks.

Sometimes they slow danced in the living room without music. Sometimes she cried silently into his shoulder after a press conference with Callum. Sometimes they sat on his balcony in silence, watching the city below, knowing that no one really saw them.

2:11 AM, her locked dressing room after a fashion charity event

She leaned against the vanity, scrolling through Jaehyun’s text.

Jaehyun: Room 804. Key in the drawer. I’m waiting. Don’t sleep angry tonight.

(You): Can’t. I’m in a cage.

Jaehyun: Then I’ll stay awake in mine too.

She smiled. It was sad. But real.

During the day, she played along. She attended brunches with Callum and politely pretended not to flinch when his hand touched hers. Her father praised her publicly for being “mature, patient, and poised.”

But every weekend, every off-script moment, was his.

Jaehyun and (Y/n) moved through the shadows of Seoul like they were building something sacred in secret. Dinner in disguised cafés. Hikes at dawn. Phone calls with the screen dimmed low.

She told him once, while wrapped in his sheets, “You’re the only place I don’t have to act.”

He kissed her shoulder and whispered, “Then stay here a little longer.”

But they both knew time was a luxury they didn’t control.

The world was ticking. Callum was watching. And her father was planning.

But in the stolen in-between, they were real.

And free.

Tuesday, 11:17 PM, Callum’s gala at a luxury hotel ballroom

She stood beside Callum, surrounded by CEOs and diplomats, smiling when prompted. Her wrist was looped loosely in his arm, and from a distance, they looked like the perfect couple.

But Callum leaned in and muttered, “Try not to look so bored, darling. They’re here to see a future Mrs. Wright, not a deflated prop.”

She swallowed her glare. Instead, she excused herself for some “fresh air.”

Upstairs, two floors above the party, in the executive suite he’d secretly booked just for her, Jaehyun waited.

She walked in without knocking.

He looked up from the couch, his tie loose, hands resting on his lap. He said nothing. Just watched her walk across the room, pull the pins from her hair, and finally—breathe.

Then she leaned her forehead to his chest and whispered, “Tell me I’m not crazy.”

Jaehyun’s arms wrapped around her. “You’re not crazy.” “You’re not trapped.” “You’re here. With me.”

They didn’t kiss right away. Just stood there, hearts syncing in a room they didn’t belong to.

Until her lips found his—quiet, needy, desperate—the kind that only happens when you know you have to leave again soon.

Friday, 1:09 AM, Jaehyun’s car, parked on a hilltop overlooking the Han River

“I wish we could just… disappear,” She murmured, curled under his coat in the passenger seat. “Start somewhere new. Change our names. Open a bookstore in some village where no one cares about heirs and daughters and deals.”

He chuckled gently, brushing his thumb along her knuckles. “I’d be a terrible bookseller.”

“You’d charm the old ladies,” she smiled. “Sell out the poetry shelf every week.”

“And you?”

“I’d bake muffins and ignore gossip.”

Jaehyun looked over at her.

“I’d go anywhere with you,” he said.

She blinked fast.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Talking like this isn’t going to kill me when it ends.”

He didn’t answer.

Just pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers one by one, like each one could hold onto time.

Sundays, when they pretended to be real

They had rituals. Small, quiet, hidden rituals.

She left a lipstick mark on his teacup on purpose. He made her playlists that only played offline. They shared a Google calendar labeled “Board Meeting” but filled with fake brunch reservations only they knew.

Jaehyun: “Board meeting rescheduled. My office. Bring your face.”

(You): “Your office doesn’t have a bed.”

Jaehyun: “It does now.”

Sometimes they met in bookstores. Or laundromats. Sometimes in the back row of a quiet cinema, wearing masks and hats like fugitives.

They didn’t post. Didn’t take selfies. Didn’t speak of “someday.”

But every time they met…

…it felt like home.

But reality kept knocking. Louder every week. Callum grew suspicious. Possessive. Harsher. Mr. Kim started mentioning a wedding timeline.

And (Y/n)—She grew quieter at public events. More distant at home. More alive when she was with Jaehyun.

And he could feel it. She was unraveling in both worlds. One that demanded obedience. And one where she was finally herself.

And he knew—Their bubble couldn’t stay hidden forever.

But until it popped…They would steal every second like it was gold.

It began with a call from her father’s assistant. Short. Chilling.

“Mr. Kim would like you home for dinner. No excuses.”

That night, the dining room felt tighter than usual. No candles, no wine, just the weight of what was coming.

She sat straight as ever, silent between spoonfuls of guk. Her mother avoided her gaze. Her father? Calm. Too calm. Then he set his spoon down and spoke.

“The Wrights have agreed to an earlier timeline. Callum’s side wants the wedding this autumn. Before the fiscal quarter ends.”

Her chopsticks paused mid-air.

“…this autumn?”

“As in three months.”

She stared at him. “That wasn’t the plan.”

Her father nodded slowly. “It wasn’t. But it’s what they want now. And we—don’t say no to the Wrights right now.”

She turned to her mother. “You knew?”

Her mother’s lips were pressed into a thin line. “We’re trying to protect what’s left of our legacy.”

“This isn’t a legacy. It’s a prison sentence.”

Mr. Kim narrowed his eyes. “Don’t make this emotional. It’s business. You’re not being sold—you’re being secured. The press already favors this match. Callum has influence. Resources. If we lose him—”

“Then let me go.” Her voice cracked. “Let me out of this.”

Her father stood, slow and cold.

“I gave you time. I let you disappear with your little secret boyfriend behind closed doors, hoping it was just your rebellion passing through.”

She went still. Ice ran down her spine.

He knew.

Mr. Kim stepped closer.

“I had you followed, (Y/n). I’ve seen the late-night visits. The café meetings. The messages. Jaehyun Jeong is not the solution. He’s our competitor’s son. And worse, he’s sentimental. That’s dangerous.”

“Callum raised his hand to me,” she said quietly.

“And he apologized. And hasn’t done it again, has he?” her father snapped. “You think marriage is about love? It’s about alignment. Strategy. Power. This is how the world works, (Y/n).”

She stood up, shaking. “Then I want no part of your world.”

But he just looked at her with sharp, cruel disappointment.

“You don’t have a choice anymore. You’ve been indulged too long.”

That night, Callum sent a message.

Callum: Heard the good news? Autumn in Seoul. Better get your dress ready. I’ll be a good husband. Just don’t make me work for your smile, darling. You’re not that charming.

She didn’t reply.

She just sat on her balcony, in the dark, holding her phone.

Typing.

Deleting.

Typing again.

Finally, she sent one message to Jaehyun.

(You): I think the clock’s ticking faster now. I don’t know what to do. But I’m scared.

And within minutes, it lit up.

Jaehyun: Then let’s burn the clock. Just say when. I’ll be there. We end this.

Two weeks before the wedding

The rain was soft that afternoon—just a whisper against the windows of Jaehyun’s penthouse. (Y/n) had spent the whole morning curled on his couch in one of his hoodies, sipping honey tea, head heavy with the decision she’d already made: She was going to fight for them. Burn every plan her father made. Cancel the wedding. Choose love over legacy.

For once, she would run toward something, not away.

Jaehyun was in the shower, and she was looking for his charger. That was all. Just a charger.

But his work laptop was open. Folders scattered on the desk. Charts. Names. Documents. Something about an internal family restructuring… and there—one tab still open.

Curious, she glanced at it. Her eyes landed on the headline:

Strategic Acquisition Plan: Phase II — Domestic Market Consolidation

She scrolled.

And saw it.

Target: Kim Industries Subnote: “Undercapitalized. High debt-to-income. Current vulnerability post-Wright pullout. Predicted collapse with correct media pressure and phased divestment of suppliers.”

She blinked. What…?

She scrolled further. Jaehyun’s own name signed at the bottom of the executive recommendation. Dated just two weeks ago.

“Aggressive moves within next quarter. Full buyout possible within 6–9 months. Objective: Market sweep and erasure of former rival influence.”

She went completely still.

Her breath stopped.

Something inside her—a thin, shaking thread of hope—snapped.

Was this just… business?

Was she just a pawn in his war? Like Callum said?

Her fingers hovered over the trackpad.

There were notes. Attachments. Cold, clinical language. Graphs showing her father’s company crumbling like an inconvenient pillar in the path of Jeong Empire expansion.

Her father’s voice rang in her memory—

“Jaehyun Jeong is not the solution. He’s sentimental. That’s dangerous.”

Was he?

She stepped back from the desk like it had burned her.

(Y/n) stared out the window. The rain hadn’t stopped. But something in her had.

And from the bathroom, Jaehyun called out—

“Baby, did you find it?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her body was still there. But her trust had already left. So, she left without a sound.

No slammed doors. No angry words. Only the quiet shuffle of her feet on marble floors, and the whisper of a hoodie slipping off her shoulders, folded gently on the couch where she had once felt safe.

She didn’t take her bag. Just her phone. Just her breath. Barely held in. Barely hers anymore. Her fingers trembled as she pressed the elevator button. Not from rage—But from grief. Not the kind that screams. The kind that drowns silently.

She didn’t look back. Didn’t wait for him to notice the air she’d left behind. Didn’t care if he saw the tears in her eyes as she walked out into the rain. The world blurred—Not from the downpour, But from the ache behind her lashes.

Her love, the escape, the heartbeat she’d clung to in secret— It had plans. It had bullet points and projections. It had targets.

And her father’s name wasn’t just on that list. It was the list.

Everything she had fought to protect, he had quietly plotted to dismantle. And whether it was calculated coincidence or merciless timing—to her, it felt like betrayal.

So she kept walking. And walking.

One hand clutching her coat to her chest, The other wiping at the tears that finally won.

Not because she stopped loving him.

But because she still did.

The rain didn’t let up. It soaked her sleeves. Her shoes. Her spirit. (Y/n) didn’t know where she was walking—only that she had to walk. Had to keep moving before the pain fully caught her. Before the memories caught up.

Of Jaehyun brushing his thumb over her cheek when she was too tired to speak. Of him whispering "Stay here a little longer." Of that café in Sinsadong, where they’d made a world no one else could touch.

It was all unraveling now. Not because he didn’t love her—she knew he did. But because love wasn’t clean. And Jaehyun wasn’t just the boy who kissed her forehead in quiet. He was also the son of a business empire. He was raised to conquer. Even if it meant stepping over the world she came from.

Back in the room, Jaehyun noticed immediately. The silence.The stillness. The way the air shifted the second he stepped out of the shower.

“(Y/n)?” he called, towel drying his hair, voice casual at first.

No answer.

He walked into the living room, still damp, expecting her to be curled up where he left her.

Empty.

No coat. No scarf. No shoes by the door.

Just the hoodie she had worn. Neatly folded. Like a final act of grace.

His eyes narrowed. His heart dropped.

He scanned the room—his desk. His folders.

Then it hit him.

Oh God.

He lunged toward his laptop.

And there it was. The open tab. The war plan.

Her father’s name. The cold-blooded summary.

Everything exposed. Everything wrong.

His chest tightened. Not with guilt—he’d kept his family’s interests close. Always. But with fear. Because he had never wanted to hurt her. And yet…

He ran.

Meanwhile, she sat in a quiet train station.

Her wet coat draped over her lap. Her hair stuck to her cheeks. Her phone, heavy in her palm, lit up again.

Jaehyun: (Y/n), please. Talk to me.I didn’t mean for you to find it like that.It’s not what it looks like. Let me explain. Let me—

She turned the screen off.

Her body shook, but she held it in. Tears, rage, grief—every emotion bottled so tight it felt like her ribs might snap.

Because he wasn’t just Jaehyun. He was Jeong Jaehyun. The heir. The strategist. The man who made plans.

And she—she was never just a girl in his arms. She had always been part of the board. Even if he didn’t mean to, He’d made her a chess piece in a war she never agreed to play.

Jaehyun stood in the parking garage, car keys shaking in his hand. Rain soaking his shirt. His heart pounding. He didn't care about the acquisition. Not anymore. Not if it meant losing her.

And he whispered into the dark,

"I was going to choose you over everything…" "Why didn’t you let me explain?"

But she was already gone. And all he had left was her silence.

The days that followed felt like a waking funeral.

(Y/n) went silent.

No more secret meetings. No more messages. No glances across crowded rooms or lipstick stains on borrowed teacups.

She became a porcelain version of herself—poised, perfect, untouchable. (Y/n) Kim, the bride-to-be. The symbol of alliance between empires.

But up close, the cracks were obvious.

Her eyes were dull. Empty in the mornings. Red and swollen in the evenings when she thought no one was watching. Her makeup team started arriving earlier, whispering softly among themselves. Her mother grew more distant. Her father grew more controlling.

Callum, however, was thriving.

Smug, satisfied, victorious.

The tighter the ring fit on her finger, the looser his leash became. And still, she said nothing. Did nothing. Only followed the schedule: fitting, press interviews, venue inspections, a pre-wedding magazine cover shoot where she smiled like a ghost.

And meanwhile—

Jaehyun was losing his mind.

At first, he texted. Called. Waited outside her apartment. Sent notes through mutual friends.

Nothing.

Then his numbers were blocked.

His assistant was informed—politely, officially—that Mr. Jeong was no longer permitted near any Kim family event, nor would any of his representatives be welcome at the ceremony.

Even his private security clearance to her neighborhood was revoked.

Every door slammed shut.

He called her stylist. Her florist. Her driver.

No one answered.

He showed up at her bridal boutique in person. But her mother stepped out instead, perfectly poised, and met him at the door.

“You need to stop this,” she said coolly.

“I need to see her.”

“You’ve seen enough.”

“She’s not well.”

“She will be,” her mother replied. “After the wedding, when this storm passes.”

“You’re marrying her off like she’s a headline,” Jaehyun hissed. “You’re killing her.”

Mrs. Kim’s eyes flickered, and for just a second—just a second—the mask cracked. A mother flickered through.

But then she straightened.

“And you’re breaking her in a different way. She loved you. You turned her world upside down. And now she has to live with the pieces.”

Then she turned and walked back inside.

And Jaehyun—powerful, brilliant Jaehyun—stood outside, soaked in the cold of early fall, fists clenched and helpless.

Inside, (Y/n) stared out the bridal suite window, unaware of the scene below.

Or maybe not unaware. Just too numb to react.

Because love wasn't safe anymore. And betrayal had left its fingerprints on the only place she'd ever felt free.

Four days before the wedding.

(Y/n) stood on the raised platform in her final gown fitting—dressed in white satin and silence. Seamstresses circled her, pinning and smoothing, chirping about veils and sleeve lengths like she was a doll, not a person.

She barely heard them.

All she saw was the mirror in front of her. And the stranger staring back.

Eyes tired. Skin pale. The lace at her collarbone looked like a chain.

Her mother entered a few minutes later, complimenting the fit, reminding her to smile for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow.

“I’ll try,” she murmured.

“Don’t try,” her mother replied without missing a beat. “Do.”

Meanwhile, Jaehyun sat in his father’s office.

Behind him, Seoul glittered. In front of him, Chairman Jeong—calm, sharp, exact.

“I thought I raised a strategist,” his father said coldly, “not a poet.”

“I never planned for her to be part of it,” Jaehyun said through clenched teeth. “You put your emotions where your mind should’ve been,” the chairman snapped. “We don’t lose deals over women.”

“I’m not losing her like this.”

“She left you, Jaehyun. She's not coming back.”

Silence.

Then, “I’m going to that wedding.”

His father raised a brow. “To crash it?”

“To remind her of who she was before she became a weapon.”

Chairman Jeong exhaled, leaned back in his chair. “You walk into that ceremony, and you start a war.”

Jaehyun stood.

“Then I hope they’re ready.”

Wedding Eve.

The ballroom was filled with chandeliers, imported roses, and tension so thick it tasted metallic.

She stood on the balcony of her suite, overlooking the rehearsal dinner as Callum entertained guests below. She clutched the railing, chest tight. A sea of people was cheering for something she was no longer part of.

She heard a knock.

A soft knock. Three taps. Familiar.

Her heart nearly stopped. She turned. But it was only a staff member, delivering her wedding shoes. White. Elegant. Cold.

And when the door shut again, she let herself finally break. Tears rolled silently. Down her cheeks, down her dress.

She whispered to no one, “I miss him.” Not just Jaehyun. Herself.

The version of her that had dreams, coffee dates, wind in her hair and poetry in her heart. The version that rebelled.

She missed that girl.

And she didn’t know if she’d ever see her again.

But across the city—in the stillness of his apartment—Jaehyun packed one suit.

Not for business. For battle.

Because in less than 24 hours, she’d be walking toward a man who never deserved her. And if no one else would stop it—

He would.

Five hours before the wedding. 3:02 AM.

The suite was silent. The flowers were fresh. The veil was steamed. The dress hung like a verdict.

But (Y/n) couldn’t sleep. She sat on the edge of the bed in her robe, bare feet on the carpet, heart thudding so loud it echoed in her ears. Every tick of the wall clock was a countdown. Every blink, a whisper of, "This is it. This is it. This is it."

And then— Knock. Knock. Knock.

Soft. Urgent. Impossible.

Her head jerked up.

No one should be knocking now. Not her mother. Not her planner. Not anyone. She moved toward the door slowly, quietly. Pressed her eye to the peephole.

Her breath caught.

Jaehyun.

Dressed in black. Rain in his hair. Wild eyes. He held up a key card like some poor thief in a suit. (Y/n) hesitated. Then opened the door—just a crack.

“What are you doing here?”

He exhaled, like seeing her physically hurt. “I couldn’t let the sun rise without trying. Without telling you everything.”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “How did you even get in?”

“I stole a card,” he said. “Bribed the valet. Lied to your security. I don’t care.”

She opened the door just a little more, one hand gripping the handle like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

“Jaehyun…”

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said immediately. “That file—that plan—I didn’t make it to destroy you. I didn’t even know your father’s company was still on it. It was old—approved by my board before us.”

Her eyes glistened, but her face stayed stone.

“I was going to remove it. I swear to you. The minute I knew you were in my life, I started undoing everything. But I was slow. I was careful. And I lost you before I could finish.”

“You could’ve told me.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

She shook her head, eyes burning. “Don’t you dare say that.”

Jaehyun’s throat tightened. Then—he sank.

Right there, in the hallway of her bridal suite, on the marbled floor…

He dropped to his knees.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me tonight,” he said, voice trembling. “I’m asking you to remember who we were. What we had. What we still have if you want it.”

She stared down at him. The man who had taught her freedom. The man who broke her without trying.

And yet, she still felt her heart throb at the sight of him. On his knees. Begging like a sinner at the altar.

“I would burn everything for you,” he said. “I already have. I pulled the deal. My father threatened to cut me off. I said fine. The plan is dead. I don’t care about the company. I only care about you.”

Silence.

She dropped her gaze, lips trembling.

“You think love can fix everything, Jaehyun,” she whispered.

“No,” he said. “But it makes the fight worth it.”

Tears finally fell.

And she hated that she still loved him this much.

“I’m getting married in five hours,” she said, almost choking on it.

“Then run with me in four.” His eyes never left hers. “I’ll wait. Even if it means watching you walk down that aisle. I’ll wait until the last second for you to choose us.”

And then he stood up. Stepped back. Pressed her hand softly before walking away. “Just open the door,” he said, “if you still remember who you are without them.”

And then—he was gone. Leaving her alone. With a choice.

A clock. And a heart still beating for him.

4 hours later. One hour before the wedding. 11:00 AM.

The bridal waiting room was bright—too bright.

Gold trimmings, soft floral wallpaper, and large mirrors reflected her a thousand times over. A princess in a white hanbok-draped wedding gown. Hair flawless. Skin porcelain. Smile… absent.

She sat stiffly on the cream velvet bench, bouquet limp in her hands. Her shoulders were heavy with everything.

People kept coming in. Extended relatives, shareholders, family friends. Each one with a phone. A smile.

She nodded. Numb. Distant. Like a doll in a case.

They sat beside her. Took pictures. Laughed. Left.

One after another.

Her mother poked in occasionally, adjusting the lace. “Pull yourself together, people are watching.” Her father paced the hallway with pride. “Finally, our family is aligning with real power.”

But she didn’t hear them.

Not really.

Her hands trembled slightly in her lap. Her heart beat fast—but not for him. Not for Callum. Not for the gold. Not for the flash. Not for this illusion.

She kept checking the door. Every few seconds. Half-hoping it would open again. Half-dreading it might.

Then— The door did creak slightly. Just a bridesmaid.

“Ten minutes, Miss Kim,” she said. “Make sure your veil’s ready.”

Ten minutes. She couldn’t breathe.

Outside the hall, music was being tuned. Chairs filled with silk and diamonds. Callum was probably checking his hair, smug and confident, certain he had won.

She looked at herself in the mirror. So many people had fought to make her look like a bride. But no one had asked if she felt like one.

And that— That’s when her gaze dropped to the drawer beneath the vanity.

The one the hotel had labeled “emergency supplies.”

She opened it with shaking hands.

Inside: safety pins. Perfume. Band-aids. A pen.

And a hotel notepad.

She blinked.

Then—slowly—picked up the pen. And began to write. Not long. Not perfect. Just real.

"I'm sorry. I can't marry someone I don’t love. I’m done being traded. I’m choosing me."

She folded it. Stood. Her knees nearly gave out from the rush of adrenaline. But her heart—was finally hers again.

She took one last look in the mirror. Pulled off the veil. Dropped it onto the floor. And walked toward the back exit. Not as a runaway bride. But as a woman finally waking up.

11:17 AM.

The string quartet outside played something elegant. Light chatter filled the grand wedding hall. Rows of guests sat waiting, sipping champagne, unaware that the bride had vanished like breath on glass.

Inside, Callum stood at the altar. Hands folded. Jaw tight. He was smirking just a little—not for love. For victory.

He leaned toward the wedding planner, already annoyed. “Where the hell is she?”

Back in the bridal room, a bridesmaid opened the door only to find the bench empty. The veil abandoned. The bouquet slightly wilted. The notepad, sealed with trembling pen, sitting like a bomb.

A scream followed.

Staff panicked. Calls were made. Her mother cried out, “Check the restroom! Check the stairwell!” Her father demanded the exits be sealed.

But it was too late.

11:34 AM. Seoul back streets.

She, the bride, ran.

Wedding dress bunched in her arms, lace dragging against concrete. Sneakers—borrowed from a stylist—scuffed and soaked. Her lungs burned. Her chest felt cracked open. Her heart beat like thunder.

But she was free.

And she had one place to go.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun sat in his parked car across the Han River.

He hadn't gone home. Hadn't changed clothes. Hadn’t moved since he left her door 4 hours ago.

He stared at the clock. 11:39 AM.

Five minutes past ceremony time. He whispered into the silence, “Come on, (Y/n)…”

His phone buzzed. Unknown number. He froze, then picked it up.

“Where are you?” Her voice. Breathless. Real.

He blinked fast, disoriented. “(Y/n)—? Are you—?”

“I’m in a cab,” she panted. “I—I ran. I left. I don’t know what I just did but I left.”

Silence on his end. Then, “You’re insane,” he breathed.

“I know.”

“Where are you going?”

“To you.”

He didn’t even respond. He just turned the ignition and drove.

And then—there she was.

Wedding dress half destroyed. Makeup smudged. Heart in her eyes.

They stared at each other.

And he walked to her slowly, step by step, like she might vanish if he moved too fast.

When they were just inches apart, she whispered, “You waited.”

Jaehyun smiled—heartbreaking and full. “You came.”

Then her hands reached for his collar, and his arms wrapped around her waist, and they crashed into a kiss.

Not a fairytale. Not a scene.

A collision of two broken, desperate hearts that chose each other anyway.

People on the street slowed to stare. But neither of them cared. Not anymore. They had lost everything—Power. Approval. Control. And they had found each other. She leaned her forehead against his.

“I don’t have a plan,” she said softly.

“Good,” Jaehyun whispered. “Because I burned mine for you.”

And under Seoul’s noon sun, with the chaos they left behind, they smiled for the first time—not in secret. But for real.

They left the café after an hour, Jaehyun giving his jacket to cover her gown as they slipped into a rented car with tinted windows. He drove without saying where, one hand always on the wheel, the other reaching for hers every now and then, like he needed to feel she was still there.

He took her up a hill, away from the city, toward a small modern house tucked between trees and sky.

A house with no name.

No photos.

Just peace.

“Whose is this?” she asked softly, stepping into the quiet.

“Ours,” he said. “I bought it last year. Never told anyone. I didn’t know why then. I think I do now.”

She turned toward him. “Jaehyun…”

“I can’t give you a throne,” he said. “I can’t promise you won’t lose more before you heal. But I can promise this—freedom. No press. No company. No war. Just you, me, and time.”

Silence.

Then she exhaled, took a few steps forward, and wrapped her arms around his middle. “I think I’d like to stay here a while.”

He kissed the top of her head.

“You can stay forever.”

And with it, peace.

No headlines, no invitations, no staged photoshoots. Just quiet mornings in thick sweaters and mismatched socks, with her sipping warm tea beside frosted windows, her cheek resting against Jaehyun’s shoulder as he scrolled through a book of Korean poetry he once bought and never opened—until now.

And while her father refused to speak publicly, sources whispered that Kim Industries was bleeding slowly—left fragile after the broken alliance with the Wrights. Callum had returned to London, bruised pride and all, leaking bitterness in high society circles.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun was officially removed from several boards under his father’s control. He’d stepped down willingly, leaving behind a legacy not worth holding onto without her.

Endings. Beautiful ones.

After months of living off-the-grid, Jaehyun sat at their small kitchen table one afternoon—sunlight streaming in, laptop open beside a half-eaten bowl of doenjang jjigae—and finally let himself dream again.

Not for a boardroom. Not for his father. Not for the Jung family name.

But for himself.

And for the future he was building with her.

He called it "Funnel 1912."

A clean, modern business funnel system tailored for small businesses and independent creatives. A platform that focused on authenticity, minimalism, and scalable brand storytelling.

She had laughed when he told her the name. “That sounds like a warship.”

He grinned. “It’s the date my great-grandfather opened his first noodle cart. A legacy—but mine now.”

She helped him design the UI. Clean layouts, intuitive tools, no corporate fluff.

Funnel 1912 offered smart e-commerce integration, real-time analytics, and built-in brand voice templates. It wasn’t just another startup— It was a rebellion dressed in white space and code.

It quietly launched in beta across local business networks. Artists. Café owners. Small brands tired of being swallowed by giant platforms.

And slowly— It took off.

Not because of hype. But because it worked.

It became the tool for dreamers who didn’t want to sell their souls to grow.

Jaehyun worked on it from a small study in the back of their house—surrounded by sketches, code drafts, books, and post-it notes from her that read things like:

“Don’t forget to stretch.”“The soy milk expired three days ago pls don’t die.”“You’re brilliant.”

He wasn’t a rich heir anymore. He was something more dangerous. A man who had lost everything the world thought he needed—and found everything he actually wanted.

Summer crept in quietly.

Thick, slow evenings hummed with cicadas and the scent of her favorite sandalwood candle. Their small home—half wood, half glass—was wrapped in stillness, like the world had paused just for them.

That night, the lights were dim. The windows were open. The curtains swayed with the warm wind. And inside, there was only them.

She had just stepped out of the shower, damp hair falling over her shoulders, one of Jaehyun’s old white button-ups barely hanging on her frame. She padded barefoot into the living room where he sat on the floor, working late again—laptop open, notes scattered, glasses low on his nose.

She leaned down, wordlessly, and kissed the top of his head. He looked up slowly, eyes softening the moment they met hers.

“You smell like rain,” he murmured, brushing her thigh lightly with his fingers.

She hummed. “You smell like overworked genius.”

He chuckled, closing the laptop with one hand, the other resting on her hip. “I can’t think straight when you wear that.”

“It’s your shirt.”

“It’s my weakness.”

She straddled him without a word. The quiet between them wasn’t awkward. It was familiar. Sacred. Safe. The kind of silence that had been earned.

Jaehyun let his hands trail up her thighs, slow, reverent. He kissed her collarbone like he was reading a poem there— Soft, slow, patient. Like time didn’t matter.

“You left a wedding for me,” he whispered against her skin.

She smiled, tugging his glasses off. “I left a life for me. You just happened to be the best part of what came next.”

And then—they let everything else fall away.

The past. The politics. The pain.

Because in that room, with only the sound of the wind and their breathing, they remembered what love looked like—when no one was watching.

His hands on her waist. Her breath hitching as he kissed lower. The way she whispered his name like a promise. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t wild. It was slow. Certain.

Like two people choosing each other again.

And again.

Until the only thing left was warmth, tangled limbs, and Jaehyun brushing damp hair from her forehead with his thumb, whispering,

“Still the best decision I’ve ever made.”

And her, half-asleep against his chest, whispered back,

“Still the safest place I’ve ever landed.”

They finally registered their marriage and had an officiant conduct a simple ceremony, surrounded by close friends in an intimate celebration.

“Now we’re real,” she whispered.

He kissed her temple.

“We were always real. We just finally have a piece of paper that says the world’s caught up.”

And that night, under the glow of fairy lights and the hush of crickets, two people who had once been born into chaos finally chose something simple; each other, forever, no drama. Just yes.

A memory he holds onto dearly, just before Jaehyun wakes up.

The walls were too white. The air too quiet. No clocks ticked here—time didn’t pass in this place. It just sat.

Jaehyun hadn’t spoken in eight days.

Before that, he’d screamed. The night they dragged him off the street in Gangnam barefoot, shaking, begging strangers to "check the mirror—she’s still writing."

He fought the staff. Tried to run. Collapsed outside the old hotel, whispering her name into the pavement until his voice bled out.

Now—he sat in silence. Motionless in a padded room, thin sweater clinging to his bones, bandages wrapped around both hands (he’d clawed through glass trying to find her reflection in a mirror that wasn’t there).

The doctors called it a psychotic break. But to him, it wasn’t that.

It was grief refusing to be buried. It was the echo of a promise broken by time.

What had happened?

10.15 a.m. The day of the wedding.

It was raining.

Not the cinematic kind— Not dramatic thunder or mournful drizzle— But quiet, grey rain. Soft enough to muffle footsteps. Heavy enough to drown secrets.

The ballroom was set. Rows of cream orchids curved like broken halos. Gold-rimmed name cards. A menu hand-pressed in French.

And in the center, an altar no one would ever reach.

The staff had been whispering for a week.

The bride hadn’t been seen. No rehearsal. No hair trials. No laughter.

Just locked doors. Strict instructions. Silence.

They had assumed it was nerves. Or tradition. Or power.

Until someone knocked on the bridal suite that morning—and no one answered.

It was the youngest staff girl who opened it. Barely nineteen. Too young to understand death. Old enough to feel it before she even saw it.

The room was still. No music. No scent. No bride.

And then—she looked up.

The white veil swayed first. A fragile echo, twisting gently from the ceiling lamp—tangled in a torn cord, no longer meant for light.

The dress was untouched. But the girl inside it—gone. Her bare feet hung inches above the marble floor. A single heel tipped sideways under the vanity.

She stumbled backward, hitting the edge of the vanity, shattering a bottle of perfume.

“Help!” she choked out, throat raw. “Someone—she—she's—”

(to be continued.)

#nct scenarios #nct angst #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct au #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun angst #jeong jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun nct

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hearts4sturn · 3 days ago

Text

CAUGHT IN A LIE – MATT STURNIOLO

pairing: heartthrob!matt x fem!reader synopsis: y/n was forced to attend a fraternity party after losing a bet to her friend. she was awkward—never quite sure how to handle parties like this. when a guy (who clearly couldn’t take a hint) kept flirting with her, she found herself unable to say no. matt, thinking he was doing her a favor, stepped in and claimed they were dating. but word spread fast around the university, leaving them no choice but to keep up the lie. warnings: lowercase intended, angst, alcohol, mentions of sex

masterlist | series masterlist

TWO: LIES

the following days after were absolute hell. no exaggeration. everywhere i went, i could feel eyes on me, hear the murmurs that never quite faded, always lingering just out of reach but loud enough to remind me that people were talking. and the worst part? they weren’t even subtle about it.

if i turned my back? whispers. if i walked by a group of people? whispers. if i so much as existed in a room for more than five seconds? whispers. it was exhausting. seriously, what the hell? we’re literally seniors in university, grown adults on the verge of entering the real world, and yet they still find joy in gossiping like we’re stuck in some high school drama. grow up.

but what really got to me—what really settled into my bones like an uncomfortable itch i couldn’t scratch—was the fact that i hadn’t seen matt since the night of the party. not once. before that night, he was just one of those people i’d run into from time to time. whether i was studying at my usual spot in the local cafe or making my way across campus for class, he was always just... there. sometimes alone, sometimes surrounded by his friends, but always there. and now? nothing. it was like he had vanished into thin air.

at first, i told myself it was a coincidence. campus was big, and it wasn’t like we shared classes or anything. but as the days passed, the absence started to feel intentional. like he was actively avoiding me. like maybe—just maybe—he was ashamed to be caught up in a rumor with me.

that thought made something in my chest twist uncomfortably. not that i cared, obviously. it’s not like i wanted him to be around. it’s not like i kept looking for him in places i knew he usually was. not at all.

with a sigh, i snapped my notebook shut, stuffing it into my backpack and swinging the strap over my left shoulder. i needed to stop thinking about this. matt didn’t matter. the rumors didn’t matter. i just needed to focus on school–to study and get my degree.

"eve? i’m gonna head to class now! i’ll be back in a couple hours!" i called out, slipping on my adidas sambas and adjusting the strap of my bag.

"alright! don’t let the gossipers get to you too much!" evelyn called back, her voice light but knowing.

"yeah, yeah," i muttered, rolling my eyes before stepping out of our dorm room, bracing myself for another long day of ignoring the noise.

as i made my way across campus to my anatomy class, the crisp morning air did little to shake off the exhaustion weighing on my shoulders. i had stayed up way too late the night before, cramming for my biochem test next week, and now, i was running on nothing but willpower and the promise of caffeine.

so, naturally, i made a detour to my favorite coffee shop, the one place that had fueled countless late-night study sessions and saved me from more than a few academic breakdowns. the smell of freshly brewed espresso and vanilla hit me the moment i stepped inside, a welcome comfort against the chaos of my schedule.

as i slid into the line, my mind wandered, my fingers absentmindedly tapping against the strap of my backpack. but then, just as i was settling into the peaceful rhythm of the cafe, i heard it—whispers.

not just any whispers. my name. and matt’s.

“…they’re still together?”

“probably, but i still haven’t seen them together since the party…”

i exhaled sharply, rolling my eyes as i shifted my weight from one foot to the other. seriously, how had this rumor gotten so out of hand? it had started as a tiny spark, something barely worth acknowledging, and now it had spread like wildfire. the whispers followed me around campus, no matter where i went, as if my personal life had somehow turned into everyone else’s favorite mystery to unravel.

eventually, the line inched forward, and i finally reached the counter. the moment i locked eyes with the barista, a familiar grin spread across her face.

“y/n! you’re back!” scarlett, one of my favorite baristas, greeted me warmly. “let me guess—your usual?”

this coffee shop had become my second home during exam season, and after countless hours spent hunched over textbooks and laptop screens in the corner booth, i had gotten to know the staff pretty well. scar, in particular, always seemed to be working whenever i came in, and over time, we’d built a sort of friendly rapport.

“hey, scar!” i greeted, returning her smile. “actually, can i get a medium iced white chocolate mocha with whip today?”

“switching it up, huh?” she teased as she tapped my order into the register.

“figured i’d live a little,” i joked, pulling out my wallet.

“love that for you,” she chuckled. “is that all?”

i nodded, and she spun the screen toward me.

“$5.48.”

i tapped my card against the reader, the soft beep signaling the transaction had gone through.

“you’re all set!” she said cheerfully.

“thanks, scar,” i replied before making my way to one of the tables, sitting down in the wooden chair.

i scrolled mindlessly through my phone, my thumb moving automatically as i tapped through the endless parade of instagram stories. some of my classmates were out at parties, their nights filled with loud music and flashing lights. others posted funny reels, the kind that always seemed to go viral no matter how many times you’d seen them. and then there were the perfectly curated photos—overexposed, with soft pastel colors and just the right amount of "effortless" aesthetic. it was all noise, just a blur of images and videos. but for some reason, i couldn’t stop watching, couldn’t pull myself away. my brain was numb, absorbed in the flickering images on the screen, none of it real. none of it felt like it had anything to do with me.

i was so caught up in my scrolling that when i felt a tap on my shoulder, the sudden touch startled me, and i jumped, my heart thudding in my chest.

"y/n?" a voice asked from behind me.

i froze for a second, blinking up in surprise, and turned around to see matt standing there, his expression a little hesitant but familiar.

"matt? you scared me!" i said, my hand instinctively going to my chest, as if trying to calm the racing heartbeat he’d just triggered.

he chuckled, his lips curving into a soft, apologetic smile. "sorry," he said, his voice light, though i could see the awkwardness creeping into his eyes.

the air between us felt thick, like we were both waiting for the other to say something—anything. i tried to smile, but it came out more nervous than i intended. "sooo…" i started, the word hanging in the air like an awkward balloon.

he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes briefly dropping to the floor before meeting mine again. "we should probably talk… shouldn’t we?" he said, his voice low, like it was more of a statement than a question.

i nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond. what was this about? why now? why was the world suddenly so loud, so heavy with this unspoken tension between us?

just as the silence stretched on, i heard a voice calling from across the room. "for y/n?"

i turned to see scarlett standing there, a cup in her hand, her eyebrow quirked with that familiar playful look she always had when she was teasing me.

"thanks, scar," i said, grateful for the interruption, even if just for a moment. i grabbed the drink from her hand, offering a smile that i hoped looked less strained than i felt.

i checked the time on my phone: 10:47 am. crap. i was going to be late if i didn’t leave soon.

i looked back at matt, still feeling the weight of the conversation hanging between us. "um, i have to get to class," i said, my voice awkward as i tried to break the tension. "but… do you want to put your number in my phone so we can talk later?"

he didn’t hesitate. he nodded, taking my phone from my hands without a word. his fingers moved quickly, typing something into the screen with the same fluid confidence he always seemed to have. it was like he was used to these kinds of exchanges, while i was overanalyzing every second of it.

he handed the phone back to me, his eyes locking with mine for a moment longer than necessary.

"i’ll text you when i’m free," i said, taking the phone back from his hand, feeling a slight warmth spread across my face. "see you later."

without waiting for a response, i turned quickly, already feeling the pull of time and the pressure of getting to class before i was officially late. the door swung open in front of me, and i stepped outside, trying to shake off the strange feeling in my chest. my mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other. what did it all mean? why had he come over and talked to after he “went missing” for like a week? was this just some casual exchange, or was there something more to it?

but right now, there was no time to think. class was waiting. and i had to face whatever this was when i had the chance.

finally, my last class of the day ended. the usual shuffle of students filled the hallways, some rushing out to get to their next class or head home, others hanging around, lingering in small groups as the day slowly wound down. i should’ve been relieved that the day was finally over, but instead, i felt like the hours had stretched on too long. maybe it was because i’d known all day that i had to text matt.

it wasn’t a matter of whether or not i should reach out—it was more like i had no choice. there was too much noise building up, too many whispers circulating between us. the rumors had started, and i’d been avoiding the inevitable. no one had said anything outright, but i could feel the weight of their looks, the hushed tones whenever we crossed paths. people talked. it wasn’t that they were saying anything terrible, but the implication was clear. no one really understood what was going on between us, and honestly, neither did i.

i pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts. matt’s name was toward the top, and for a moment, i just stared at it. i’m not sure why, i just felt hesitant to text him. eventually, i finally grew the courage to text him.

(ignore the time stamp !!)

thirty minutes. that’s all i had until i was meeting matt again. i checked the time on my phone and sighed. it was probably best to put my things down, maybe take a breath before i saw him. i grabbed my bag from the chair next to me and swung it over my shoulder. yeah, i needed to get back to my dorm.

the walk back didn’t take long, just about fifteen minutes, but it felt like the world was moving in slow motion as i made my way down the sidewalk. the usual buzz of campus was still there, people walking between buildings, chatting in small groups, but i felt disconnected from it all. it was like everything had quieted down, and all that was left was this one conversation hanging over me.

when i finally made it back to the dorm, i let out a quiet sigh as i dropped my backpack on the floor. the sound of the door shutting behind me seemed louder than usual, and it only reminded me of how much i had been avoiding this all day.

"y/n! you’re back!" evelyn’s voice called from the kitchen, her cheerfulness cutting through the tension in the room.

"yeah," i replied, pushing my shoes off. "but i’m gonna leave again soon. meeting matt."

she appeared in the doorway with a smile, setting down the mug she’d been holding. "oh, good luck!" she said with a playful salute, her grin widening.

i couldn't help but laugh at her dramatic pose. "thanks, eve. i think i’ll need it."

i walked over to my vanity, running a brush through my hair, feeling the weight of the day settle into my bones. nothing too major, just a quick touch-up. i wasn’t trying to look perfect, just not like a hot mess.

"m’kay, i’m gonna head out now," i said, standing up and grabbing my wallet, keys, and phone. "i’ll be back soon."

"bye, y/n! good luck again!" evelyn called after me, and i waved over my shoulder as i stepped out.

the air outside was cooler than i expected, but it was still a nice change from the warm dorm room. as i walked to the café, i couldn’t help but replay the conversation in my mind. we hadn’t really talked since the rumors started. not directly, anyway. he’d avoided me, and i’d done the same. we were both guilty of letting things get weird.

when i finally reached the café, i was about five minutes early. the place wasn’t crowded, just a few people typing away on their laptops or chatting quietly. i scanned the room, and then i saw him—matt, sitting in the corner with his back slightly turned to the door. he looked up as i approached, catching my eye for just a moment before he smiled and waved me over.

i made my way to the table and sat down across from him.

"hey," i said, offering a small smile.

he nodded, his expression neutral but still somehow friendly, like we were both trying to figure out how to pick up a conversation that had been paused for too long. "hey," he replied. his voice was calm, but there was something in the air between us—something unsaid, something that lingered.

we sat there for a second, neither of us speaking, and it felt oddly like the first time we’d ever met. all that tension from before, the rumors, the weirdness—it was all right there, and we both knew it. but neither of us had the perfect words to start.

finally, he broke the silence, his gaze a little more serious now. "so," he began, rubbing the back of his neck, "about all the stuff people are saying..."

i nodded, my fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the table. "yeah. i figured we should talk about it. clear the air, or whatever."

"well, about that," matt said, his lips curling into a cheeky grin. "i was actually thinking of something else..."

something else? my mind immediately went into overdrive, trying to figure out what exactly he meant. this wasn’t the conversation i’d expected. i was sitting here, nervously shifting my leg under the table, waiting for him to say something along the lines of ‘no, we’re not dating, it’s all a misunderstanding’. honestly, that would’ve been so much easier. we could’ve just brushed it off, cleared the air, and gone on with our lives. no one would be any the wiser.

but matt didn’t look like he was about to say that. no, he was looking at me with that look in his eyes—the one that said he was about to say something totally unexpected.

"what are you thinking of?" i asked, my voice a little tighter than i wanted it to be. i couldn’t help it. this whole situation was starting to feel like a slow burn, and i wasn’t sure if i was ready for whatever was coming next.

he leaned forward a little, his hands resting on the table as he gave me a look that was almost too casual for the situation. "okay, hear me out. the rumor’s already spread so much—i mean, legit, everyone is already whispering about it, right? it’s gonna be nearly impossible to shut it down now. and, honestly, ever since the rumors started, i’ve had so many girls stop bothering me. which, not gonna lie, is pretty peaceful."

i blinked, a little taken aback. this was… not what i expected. what did he mean, "stop bothering me"?

but before i could process it, he continued, the hopeful look in his eyes not fading even a little. "so, i was wondering..." he trailed off, leaving the words hanging between us. i could feel my pulse quicken, my brain trying to keep up. "if we could just... keep up the rumor?"

i stared at him, certain i hadn’t heard that correctly. keep up the rumor? what was he talking about? was he asking me to go along with it?

he leaned back in his chair slightly, watching me closely, waiting for some kind of reaction. it felt like everything had stopped for a moment, and my mind couldn’t seem to catch up.

"wait," i said, finally finding my voice. "you want us to... keep pretending? that we’re actually dating?"

he shrugged, his expression casual but his eyes still holding that same hopeful intensity. "well, yeah. i mean, it’s already out there, right? why not take advantage of it?"

take advantage of it? the idea felt wrong on so many levels, but at the same time, i couldn’t deny that there was a strange logic to it. the rumor was already so out of control, there was no way to shut it down now. and if it made matt’s life easier—if it made people stop bothering him—maybe it wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

still, something didn’t sit right with me.

"you’re serious?" i asked, my voice quieter now. "you think this is a good idea?"

he nodded, a little too eagerly for my liking. "yeah. think about it. it’s a win-win. no one bothers us, we get some peace and quiet, and maybe people will stop whispering." he paused, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "and maybe we can have a little fun with it. i mean, no one’s gonna know, right?"

i stared at him for a moment, trying to process it all. he was asking me to go along with something fake. something that didn’t exist—except for in the minds of everyone who had heard the rumors. but the more i thought about it, the more i realized that maybe it wasn’t such a simple question of what was right or wrong. it was more like—what was the harm?

"so, we just keep this going? like we’re actually a thing?"

he raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my hesitation. "yeah, exactly. it’s just a little act. no one needs to know what’s really going on between us. we can keep it low-key, but it’ll keep the peace. you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. just... play along."

his words left me in a strange place, torn between the part of me that wanted to put a stop to the whole thing and the part that thought maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. it wasn’t real, but it felt like it would give us some breathing room.

i let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of the decision settle over me. could i really do this? could i go along with a lie—just to make things easier for both of us?

"i don’t know, matt," i said, shaking my head slightly. "this feels… weird."

he nodded, understanding in his eyes. "yeah, i get it. but think about it. we won’t be the first people to fake something for convenience. it could just be temporary. and when it blows over, we can drop it."

i didn’t answer immediately. part of me was still skeptical, still not sure about the idea of playing along with something that wasn’t real. but another part of me—one that was tired of the rumors, of the awkwardness—felt like it might be worth considering.

"i need to think about it," i said, finally. "this is a lot to take in."

he smiled, a bit more relaxed now. "yeah, of course. take your time. i’m not going anywhere."

wc: 3.4k author's note: hai i’m bored dividers: @toastray

taglist: @courta13 @tits4matt @backwardshatnick @emely9274 @mattspillowprincess

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corvessa · 21 hours ago

Text

Finding Out You're Dating a Security Risk

a/n: honestly had a thought that theo wouldn’t be the one with good online safety habits, and since the reader’s super tech-savvy, it created this sweet, mildly stressful, and kinda educational moment. tried to keep it easy to follow, even if you’re not into tech stuff. Summary: A coding stream takes a turn when a casual chat with Theodore reveals a surprising security risk, and a very patient lesson in digital hygiene begins.

Your stream was already buzzing. No League today, no cozy indie games. Just your VSCode window open, some terminal lines running, and a full-blown “tech talk” kind of vibe.

“So,” you said, gesturing at your screen, “when someone logs into a website, their info—like username and password—gets sent over HTTPS. That’s basically a secure connection. Like a locked box for your data.”

Next to you on camera, Theodore nodded slowly while sipping his tea, trying to look like he understood more than five percent of what you just said.

“So… it’s like an invisibility cloak for your password?”

You laughed. “Sure. Basically. It keeps bad people from spying on your info while it’s being sent from your computer to the website.”

“Spying how, exactly?”

“Well,” you explained, “every time you go online, you send tiny packets of data—little bits that make up whatever you’re doing, like loading a page or logging in. If someone’s watching the network and it’s not encrypted, they can steal that data.”

Theodore raised his eyebrows. “Wait. So if the connection isn’t locked, people can just… grab my password mid-air?”

“Exactly.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, that sounds super illegal.”

“It is. That’s why HTTPS is non-negotiable. Every login page. Every time.”

You turned back to your code, typing out a function. There was a quiet moment.

Then he casually asked, “So, if one of my passwords is encrypted on a site, it’s safe everywhere, right?”

You didn’t look up. “Not really. Why?”

“Well… I just use the same password for everything. One good one. Easy to remember.”

You froze mid-keystroke.

“…You what?”

“I mean, sometimes I switch it up. Like I’ll add a ‘99’ or an exclamation point, depending on the mood.”

Your head slowly turned toward him. “Theodore.”

“What?”

You minimized your code window.

“Please tell me you’re not using the same email for all of those accounts too.”

He blinked. “Uh… yeah? Isn’t that what people do?”

Your eye twitched.

- she's buffering - ERROR: boyfriend has no digital hygiene - help. she’s going to ascend - he’s charming and a walking data breach

You took a long breath.

“Okay. Picture this. Just one of those sites gets hacked. Just one. Your email and password are out there now. Anyone can try logging into your other accounts using the same combo.”

He tilted his head. “That actually happened to me once.”

You stared at him. “I'm sorry—what?”

“Yeah. A couple years ago. I got logged out of Spotify, and when I got back in, all the playlists were in Portuguese.”

- NOT THE PORTUGUESE PLAYLIST TAKEOVER 💀 - i am CRYING - the man’s passwords are possessed

You opened another browser tab and typed in his email on Have I Been Pwned—a site that shows if your email has been in any known data leaks.

“…Theodore, you’re in five data breaches.”

He squinted at the screen. “Wait, that’s me? Why is my email there? Who even uses Adobe?”

You pressed your hands to your face. “Babe. No. We need to talk about password managers.”

“But I remember all my passwords! I use the same one, and I just—"

“That. Is. The. Problem.”

He tilted his head again like a golden retriever being scolded gently. “I thought I was being smart.”

“You’re being hackable.”

- ICONIC LINE - protect him. educate him. at all cost. - she’s gonna install NordPass with tears in her eyes - build him a digital sandbox and keep him in it

You leaned back, trying to stay calm.

“Okay. New plan. After the stream, we are:

Downloading a password manager.

Turning on two-factor authentication. Everywhere.

Deleting anything with a birthday, pet name, or your favorite pasta in it.

NEVER using your go-to password again.”

He winced a little. “...Even for Netflix?”

You stared at him like you were considering launching him into the sun.

“Got it. Changing Netflix. Copy that.”

You sighed. “You are… my favorite vulnerability.”

He lit up. “Aww.”

“Not in a good way.”

- the romance is coded in JSON - cybergeek x golden retriever is THE blueprint - imagine being so hot you get away with this kind of digital crime

Eventually the stream wound down, and Theodore helped you shut things off. He looked sheepish.

“Hey… thanks for not yelling.”

You shook your head. “I’m not mad. Just… wildly, deeply concerned.”

He chuckled. “At least I learned what HTTPS is. And I’m kinda excited to get a password manager now. Can I name it something cool? Like… Vaulto, the Guardian of Secrets?”

“…Yes. But only if I get to set it up for you.”

“Deal.”

You paused. “Also, we’re changing your email recovery questions. ‘Favorite food: pasta’ is not cutting it.”

He nodded solemnly. “That’s fair.”

You muttered under your breath. “If you’ve ever typed ‘password123’ I swear to god—”

“…With a capital P?” he offered.

You facepalmed.

a/n: Yes, Have I Been Pwned is a real website (haveibeenpwned.com) where you can check if your email has appeared in any known data breaches. It’s free, safe, and surprisingly eye-opening. If you haven’t checked it before, this is your sign — stay safe online, use strong passwords, and maybe... don’t reuse the same one everywhere like our boy Theo in this story.

#fiction #x reader #slytherin boys #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theo nott

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mcrdvcks · 3 months ago

Text

— love language

summary: You and Matt are now dating, but you haven't told anyone. How long will it take your friends to notice?

word count: 3.4k+

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

notes: i had this idea after writing goodnight n go (which is technically the first part, but you don't need to read it to understand this). anyways, here's a bunch of fluff

warnings/tags: after endgame but date is not specified, best friends to lovers, reader works at stark industries, matt is a cocky little shit, making out

Things moved on normally, the only thing that had changed in the past month was that you two weren’t just friends but dating.

You didn’t realize it, but you were already quite close to Matt.

Matt chuckled, his arm hooked around yours as the two of you waited in line for coffee. “Really?” He asked sarcastically.

“Ugh.” You elbowed him. “You’re an ass.”

“I’m just saying, what kinda friends have a toothbrush at their place?” He tapped his cane against the floor lightly.

You tilted your head. “Uhhh… pretty sure at one point Foggy had a toothbrush at your place.”

“That he never used other than one time.”

You scoffed, nudging his side again. "Still counts."

Matt smirked. "Does it?"

"Yes, because that means I’m not the weird one here. You just have a habit of letting people leave their stuff at your place."

Matt tilted his head slightly, feigning thoughtfulness. "Interesting theory. Except you’re the only person whose toothbrush has stayed."

You opened your mouth to argue, then paused, realizing he was right. "Okay, fine, but that’s only because—"

"You stay over all the time?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," he teased, squeezing your arm lightly before stepping forward to order.

---

Foggy opened the door to Matt’s office. “Hey, did you ever finish the deposition for the Martin case?”

Matt put down the fork to his Pad Thai, leaving it in the Styrofoam container. “Yeah, I did.”

You took the opportunity, snatching the fork from his container and stealing a bite of his Pad Thai. Matt huffed, but you could hear the amusement in it.

"Really?" he murmured.

"You put it down," you said, chewing. "That means it's fair game."

Foggy barely glanced up from the papers in his hand. "She’s got a point, Matt. You know the rules."

Matt exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he blindly reached for the fork still in your grip. You dodged, keeping it out of his reach as you took another bite.

Foggy flipped a page. "Anyway, judge pushed the hearing back a week, which is good because it gives us time to go over the new witness statement. Karen’s taking a look at it now."

Matt hummed in acknowledgment, still trying to reclaim his fork. You smirked, shifting slightly in his lap. He retaliated by sliding an arm around your waist, pinning you in place.

"You gonna give that back?" he murmured.

"Maybe," you teased, holding it just out of reach.

Foggy sighed, still not looking up. "If you two devolve into a full-on fork battle, at least take it outside. I don’t need Pad Thai in the depositions."

Matt smirked, finally managing to grab the utensil from your grip. "Noted."

You huffed but didn’t move, resting your elbow on his shoulder instead. "Fine. I got what I wanted anyway."

Matt chuckled, shaking his head as he twirled the fork back into his food.

Foggy snapped the folder shut. "Alright, well, since you two seem busy, I’ll go see if Karen needs help."

"Let us know if you need anything," Matt said easily.

"Yeah, yeah," Foggy muttered, already halfway out the door.

---

Josie’s was loud and crowded as always, but at this point it was like a second home. You were telling Karen about an incident in the lab. “—Levi somehow hooks the string around the sprinkler and pulls. I get an alert on my tablet and rush over to the lab. Turns out, when he pulled the sprinkler, he also pulled part of the main water line. All for a tiny qubit that got stuck on the ceiling.”

Karen snorted, shaking her head. "Please tell me this guy got fired."

"Nope," you said, sipping your drink. "Because technically, it worked. The qubit came loose. He just, y’know… flooded half the floor in the process."

Karen groaned. "God, Stark Industries sounds like a nightmare sometimes."

"You have no idea," you muttered, setting your glass down.

As you kept talking, you felt your shirt strap slide down your shoulder. It wasn’t anything major, just a slight shift, but before you could adjust it yourself, Matt did it for you.

His hand found your shoulder with ease, fingers brushing your skin as he hooked the strap with two fingers and guided it back into place. It was quick, thoughtless, something he’d probably done a hundred times before without even realizing.

Karen barely blinked.

You didn’t think much of it either, continuing on. "Anyway, Levi tried to convince me it was an 'engineering breakthrough' and that 'technically' he proved a new method of remote retrieval—"

"You’re kidding," Karen deadpanned.

"Oh, I wish."

Matt smirked beside you, listening quietly. His arm was resting along the back of your chair, close but not overbearing.

Karen leaned forward, taking another sip of her drink. "So what’d you do?"

You grinned. "Told him if he ever did that again, I’d make sure the next thing he got stuck was his own head in the centrifuge."

Karen burst out laughing. "And let me guess—he immediately backed down."

"Pretty much," you said smugly.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are terrifying sometimes."

"And yet, here you are," you teased, echoing the same words you’d said to him earlier that morning.

Matt tilted his head slightly, smirk deepening. "Guess I have a thing for danger."

Karen rolled her eyes but didn’t comment. She was too used to the way you two interacted, and nothing about tonight seemed different from any other night.

---

“You didn’t have to come.” Matt murmured, as your hands combed through his hair. “It’s just a mugging case.”

“And yet,” you pulled your hands away. “You were goin’ to walk in there with hair like that.” You gave him a grin. “I helped you devil boy. Oh, wait.”

You pulled his red-lensed glasses off before cleaning them with your shirt. Matt huffed, tilting his head slightly. "You know, most people don’t manhandle my things without permission."

"Most people aren’t me," you shot back, flipping the glasses open and sliding them back onto his face.

Matt’s lips twitched, but he didn’t argue.

Foggy sighed from beside you. "How do you two have time for this while standing outside a courtroom?"

Karen smirked, arms crossed. "Multitasking."

You grinned. "Exactly. I’m helping him and annoying him at the same time."

Matt let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You really do take your job seriously."

"Obviously."

Before Foggy could reply, the courtroom doors opened, and the previous case let out, lawyers and reporters filing into the hallway. The four of you straightened slightly as Matt rolled his shoulders, settling into courtroom mode.

"Alright," Matt murmured, adjusting his tie. "Let’s get this over with."

You reached out instinctively, running a hand down the front of his suit, smoothing the fabric. "You’re good."

Matt caught your wrist before you could pull away, his thumb brushing over your pulse for just a second longer than necessary. “You going to stay?”

“Yep. I’ll be sittin’ in the front row looking pretty.”

Foggy snorted. "Sittin’ pretty? That’s your plan?"

"Someone’s gotta balance out Matt’s whole intimidating blind lawyer thing," you teased, adjusting your bag over your shoulder.

Matt smirked. "Intimidating, huh?"

"You know what you do," you muttered, patting his chest once before stepping back.

Karen chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, let’s get in there before we miss the good part."

The courtroom was already filling up when you and Karen slipped into the front row, Matt and Foggy making their way to the bench. You crossed one leg over the other, leaning back slightly as you pulled your phone from your bag, muting notifications.

"You know, sometimes I forget you don’t actually work for them," Karen mused, watching as you settled in.

You glanced at her. "Why?"

Karen shrugged. "You’re here so often, always involved in their cases, bringing them food, making sure Matt doesn’t walk into court looking like he just crawled out of a dumpster—"

"Hey," you cut in. "I don’t make him look good. He just listens to me when I tell him to fix his tie."

Karen smirked, tilting her head. "Mhm."

You rolled your eyes, looking toward the front of the courtroom. Matt and Foggy were talking in hushed tones, Foggy flipping through a stack of papers while Matt leaned slightly toward him, nodding at something he said.

Karen was still watching you, but you ignored her.

The judge entered, and the room settled as the proceedings began.

---

The hearing wasn’t long, but it was long enough for you to notice Karen sneaking glances at you every so often. You didn’t say anything, keeping your focus on the case.

Matt and Foggy handled it well, as expected. You knew Matt’s confidence in the courtroom was unmatched, and even though you couldn’t see his eyes behind the red lenses, you knew he was completely locked in, analyzing every shift in the judge’s tone, every heartbeat in the room.

By the time the judge adjourned the hearing, you were stretching slightly, rolling your shoulders as you stood.

Matt and Foggy approached, gathering their things. "Well," Foggy said, stuffing papers into his briefcase. "That went about as well as it could’ve."

Matt hummed in agreement. "We should have a decision in a few days."

Karen exhaled. "That was exhausting to watch, so I can’t imagine how you two feel."

Matt smiled. "Used to it."

You reached out, fixing the fold of his pocket square before he could tuck his cane under his arm. "You did good."

Matt turned his head toward you slightly, smirk playing at his lips. "Yeah?"

You huffed. "Yeah, Murdock. Try not to look so smug about it."

Foggy raised a brow, gaze flickering between the two of you for a second. Karen, too, was watching, something unreadable in her expression.

Neither of them said anything.

"Alright," Foggy finally broke the silence, snapping his briefcase shut. "Lunch? Please? I need food after all that legal jargon."

"Agreed," Karen said.

You nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Matt tapped his cane against the floor once, falling into step beside you. Karen shot one last glance between the two of you but still said nothing.

---

You pulled out an expired container of milk. “Matty, I seriously don’t know how you, of all people, didn’t notice you had 2-week expired milk in your fridge.”

Matt smirked from where he was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "You think I make a habit of sniffing my milk cartons?"

You made a face, waving the expired container in his direction. "Considering you should be able to smell the rotting dairy in your fridge? Yeah, actually, I do."

Matt huffed a quiet laugh, stepping forward as you popped the lid open and took an experimental sniff—only to gag immediately.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered, shoving the carton at him. "Smell it. I dare you."

Matt wrinkled his nose, taking a slight step back. "I’ll pass."

"Uh-huh, that’s what I thought." You shut the carton and tossed it in the trash before opening the fridge again. "When’s the last time you actually bought groceries?"

Matt leaned against the counter, lips twitching. "Don’t know. You usually do it for me."

You shot him a look over your shoulder. "That’s not the win you think it is, Murdock."

"I don’t know," he murmured, stepping behind you, hands settling at your waist. "Feels like a win to me."

Your breath hitched as he leaned in slightly, lips brushing just behind your ear. You huffed, pushing him back lightly with your elbow. "No, you don’t get to distract me. Your fridge is a disaster."

Matt let out a quiet chuckle but didn’t let go entirely. "I’ve survived this long."

"Yeah, because I keep you alive," you muttered, pulling out a sad-looking bag of spinach and holding it up for him. "This? This is a crime."

Matt smirked. "Pretty sure I deal with actual crimes for a living."

"You’re so lucky you’re cute." You tossed the bag onto the counter with a sigh. "Alright, that’s it. We’re going grocery shopping."

"You say that like I have a choice."

"You don’t," you said, shutting the fridge and turning in his arms.

Matt smiled, fingers brushing over your hip before he dropped his hands. "At least let me buy you dinner after."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Bribing me with food?"

"Wouldn’t be the first time."

You rolled your eyes, but the smirk you tried to suppress still made its way onto your lips. "Fine. But you’re carrying all the bags."

"Deal," Matt murmured, reaching for his cane.

You grabbed your coat, glancing at him as he adjusted his watch. "And I’m making sure you don’t buy anything that will expire in two days."

Matt chuckled. "Now that’s just cruel."

---

The grocery store was relatively quiet for a Friday night, the kind of late-evening lull where the only customers were people grabbing last-minute dinner ingredients or, in Matt’s case, replacing an entire fridge’s worth of expired food.

You pushed the cart while Matt walked beside you, his hand resting lightly at the crook of your elbow. "Alright, first things first," you said, steering the cart toward the produce section. "You’re getting actual vegetables. Not just things that used to be vegetables before they died a slow, tragic death in your fridge."

Matt smirked. "I resent that."

"You resent having to eat vegetables," you shot back, picking up a head of lettuce and tossing it into the cart.

Matt tilted his head slightly, like he was considering. "That might be true."

You sighed dramatically. "It’s like taking a toddler shopping."

"You did sign up for this," Matt pointed out, casually trailing his fingers over the display of apples as he passed.

You side-eyed him. "Did I? I don’t remember agreeing to supervise you."

"You knew what you were getting into," he teased, reaching past you to grab an apple and setting it in the cart.

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, adding a few more. "What else do you need? Other than everything."

Matt hummed, fingers tapping lightly against the handle of the cart. "Bread. Eggs. Coffee."

"Obviously," you muttered, already steering the cart in that direction.

As you walked, Matt’s hand slid from your elbow to your wrist, fingers idly tracing over your pulse before his hand found yours, linking your fingers together like it was nothing.

You squeezed his hand slightly. "If you think holding my hand is gonna distract me from making you buy actual groceries, you’re wrong."

Matt huffed a quiet laugh, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Worth a shot."

"Mm-hmm," you mused, scanning the shelves as you walked. You paused near the coffee aisle, reaching for a bag of Matt’s usual blend.

"That one’s good," Matt said, nodding toward it.

You smirked, holding up a different one just to mess with him. "What about this one?"

Matt tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "That one’s decaf."

Your lips parted in mock surprise. "Wow. Look at that. Guess you do pay attention to your groceries."

Matt exhaled a laugh, leaning in slightly. "I pay attention to you."

Your stomach flipped, but you covered it with an eye roll, tossing his usual coffee into the cart before dragging him toward the next aisle.

---

By the time you made it to the checkout, the cart was full. Probably more food than Matt had ever willingly bought for himself.

"You’re never gonna finish all this," he mused as you unloaded onto the conveyor belt.

"You will if you actually cook," you shot back. "And don’t tell me you can’t. I’ve seen you do it."

Matt smirked, handing the cashier his card before you could stop him. "Guess I have no choice now."

You squinted at him. "That sounds suspiciously like a challenge."

Matt tilted his head. "Maybe it is."

You grinned. "Alright, Murdock. Guess I’ll be the judge of whether or not you can actually cook."

Matt chuckled, grabbing the grocery bags as the cashier finished bagging them. "I did offer to buy you dinner."

You crossed your arms. "I thought we were talking restaurant dinner, not Murdock’s Mystery Kitchen dinner."

Matt smirked, shifting the bags in his hands. "I never specified."

You rolled your eyes but reached out, grabbing a couple of bags from him. "Fine. But if you burn anything, I’m taking over."

"Noted," Matt said, leaning in just slightly. "But I wouldn’t underestimate me, sweetheart."

You huffed, shoving a bag at him before walking toward the door. "We’ll see about that, devil boy."

---

“Where’s my shirt? You know, the soft blue one with a star embroidered on it?”

Matt, who was sitting on the couch, fingers tracing a braille legal document, tilted his head. “…Where are your clothes?”

“My—that’s what I’m asking you.” You replied, hands on your hips, leaning against his bedroom door.

Matt’s lips twitched, setting the braille document down on the coffee table. He turned his head slightly, his attention fully on you now. "You’re asking me where your clothes are?"

"Yes, Matty." You sighed, crossing your arms. "I took a shower, and now I can’t find my damn shirt. The soft blue one? The one with the star embroidered on it?"

Matt hummed, pushing himself up from the couch, his movements slow, deliberate. "And you think I did something with it?"

"You have a habit of stealing my clothes," you pointed out. "So yes, you’re my prime suspect."

Matt smirked, stepping toward you. "Interesting accusation, sweetheart."

You didn’t flinch as he closed the distance, his fingers barely brushing along your forearm, trailing up to your shoulder before settling against your jaw.

"You’re not wearing any clothes."

You rolled your eyes. "I am wearing clothes. Just not the ones I want."

Matt exhaled a quiet chuckle, tilting his head slightly. "Bra and underwear don’t count."

"Tell that to every guy who’s ever seen a Victoria’s Secret ad," you muttered.

Matt grinned. "Is that what this is? A show?"

You huffed, lightly swatting at his chest. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," he teased, echoing your words from earlier, his fingers still lazily tracing the edge of your jaw.

You narrowed your eyes but didn’t pull away. "Are you gonna help me find my shirt or not?"

Matt’s lips twitched. "I’m starting to think you just wanted an excuse to walk around like this."

You scoffed. "Matty, if I wanted to walk around half-naked in your apartment, I would. I don’t need an excuse."

Matt grinned. "Good to know."

You rolled your eyes, stepping back. "So are you gonna help or—"

Before you could finish, Matt turned toward his dresser, fingers trailing over the top before he grabbed something and held it out.

Your missing shirt.

Your jaw dropped. "You knew where it was this whole time?"

Matt shrugged. "You left it here last week. I thought it was mine."

You squinted at him. "Since when do you own a soft blue shirt with a star embroidered on it?"

Matt smirked. "I don’t, but you leave your stuff here so often, I figured it was fair game."

You snatched it from his hands. "Unbelievable."

Matt huffed a laugh, crossing his arms. "You gonna put it on, or do I get to keep enjoying the view?"

You shot him a look, but the heat in his voice sent something warm curling in your stomach. You turned away, slipping the shirt over your head, and when you glanced back, Matt was still smirking.

"Happy now?" you muttered.

Matt hummed, stepping closer again. "Not yet."

Before you could respond, he leaned in, catching your chin between his fingers before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.

When he pulled back, his smirk deepened. "Now I’m happy."

You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your heart was hammering in your chest. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you love it."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue.

---

It was late at night when Matt convinced you to stay. Foggy and Karen were out of the office for the night, leaving just you and Matt doing your separate work.

The office was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of paper and the distant hum of the city outside.

You were perched on Matt’s couch, cross-legged, a set of blueprints spread across your lap while he sat at his desk, reading over a case file. Neither of you spoke, lost in your own work, but there was a comfortable ease to it.

"Are you even getting anything done over there?" Matt asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You didn’t look up. "Are you?"

He hummed. "I was. Until I realized how unfair this is."

You sighed, already knowing where this was going. "What’s unfair, Matty?"

"You get to sit all comfy on my couch, while I’m stuck here, hard at work."

You snorted. "Hard at work, huh? I didn’t realize whining counted as work."

Matt pushed his chair back, standing slowly. "I think I deserve a break."

You barely glanced up. "Then take one. I’m actually doing something productive."

Matt made his way toward you, hands in his pockets. "Are you?"

You narrowed your eyes, lifting a brow. "Yes. Unlike some people, I have deadlines to meet."

Matt hummed, stepping in front of you. "And yet, you’re still here. With me."

"Because you asked me to stay," you reminded him, flipping a page. "You coerced me."

Matt smirked. "Did I?"

"Yes, you—hey!"

In one swift motion, Matt plucked the blueprints from your lap and set them aside. Before you could protest, he leaned down, hands bracketing your sides as he caged you against the couch.

"Take a break with me, angel," he murmured.

You exhaled, glaring up at him. "You are so—"

Whatever insult you had lined up died in your throat as Matt leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw. His lips brushed over your pulse, deliberate, teasing.

"Annoying?" he murmured.

You swallowed hard. "Distracting."

Matt grinned against your skin. "Mm. I’ll take that."

Your fingers curled around his tie, tugging slightly. "You are so lucky I like you."

Matt chuckled, dipping his head until his lips were just barely grazing yours. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You closed the distance, kissing him properly.

Matt exhaled against your lips, deepening it immediately. His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You barely noticed when he guided you backward, until the edge of his desk dug into your lower back.

"Matty," you murmured between kisses.

"Mm?"

"I thought we were taking a break."

"This is my break," he murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

You huffed a quiet laugh, threading your fingers into his hair. "Productive."

Matt grinned against your skin, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt. "You’re the one distracting me, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. His lips trailed back up, capturing yours again in a kiss that left your head spinning.

Neither of you noticed the sound of the front door opening.

At least, you didn’t.

Matt either didn’t hear it, or—more likely—just didn’t care.

"Hey, Matt, I left my phone—"

Foggy’s voice cut through the air like a record scratch.

You froze.

Matt, however, barely reacted. His lips left yours just enough for him to let out a quiet sigh—like he was annoyed—before pressing one last kiss to your jaw.

"Should’ve knocked, Fog," he murmured.

Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t dare turn around. Foggy, for his part, just stood there. Silent. Karen was the one to break it. "Uh."

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head back against the desk. "Jesus Christ."

Matt still didn’t move. He just turned his head slightly in their direction. "You left your phone?"

Foggy blinked. "Yeah." A beat. "But now I kinda wanna leave it here forever."

Karen coughed, her voice tight with suppressed laughter. "Should we leave?"

You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

Matt just smirked. "You could, but I doubt you will."

Karen cleared her throat. "Y’know what? I suddenly really need a drink."

"Yeah, me too," Foggy muttered, grabbing his phone off the desk and speed walking toward the door.

Karen cast one last glance between the two of you, shaking her head before following. The second the door shut behind them, you finally shoved Matt away.

"You knew they were coming, didn’t you!?"

Matt grinned, shrugging. "You said it yourself—I have a habit of coercing you."

You gaped at him. "Murdock."

He just leaned in again, lips ghosting over your ear. "You gonna finish what you started, angel?"

Your face burned. "I started!?"

Matt chuckled, nudging his nose against yours.

"You’re impossible," you muttered, still flustered.

"And yet," Matt murmured, smirking, "here you are."

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #matt murdock #matthew murdock #daredevil #daredevil born again #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #abby's works ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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stzrgirl4norris · 1 month ago

Text

winner's get kisses

max verstappen x socialite!reader smau

summary: as you begin to attend the races more frequently than usual, fans start to wonder the reason behind your appearances and it doesn't take long before speculations surrounding a relationship with one of the drivers. and max? he's jealous and tired of seeing people get it wrong

based on this request by this lovely anon

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

liked by user1, user2 and 566,789 others

f1gossip Super fan alert?🚨 socialite and it girl @ yourusername has been seen around the paddock for the race this weekend, this is her fourth race of the season. The reason behind her appearances remain a mystery.

view all comments

user god forbid a girl has a hobby 🙄

user oh shocking another model trying to date one of the drivers lol

user hasn't she always been a fan of f1 you guys?

user !!!!! she has always been interested in races, even before she got in the public eye

user oh yes, a woman who likes a sport, it's probably because of the cute athletes 🙄🙄🙄

user i hope it's lando 😍

user ewwww not lando user what's wrong with lando??? user they have been friends for years now

⋆˚✿˖°yourusername added to their story

"another day of being a sunday racing club member"

⋆˚✿˖°Y/N on Vogue Beauty Secrets:

liked by maxverstappen1, lando, redbullracing and 2,398,482 others

yourusername never getting tired of engine sounds. also, congrats champ @ maxverstappen1 💙

view all comments

user OH MY GOD IS IT MAX?

user chill guys leave her alone tf

user you are so weird for obsessing over her dating life

maxverstappen1 thank you so much! ❤️

user oh he gave her the red heart user yeah it's max

lando where is my congratulations post?😭

yourusername bro you finished p8 lando rude af user this is giving enemies to lovers

georgerussell63 so good to see you this weekend! 😊

user my boy is fliiiiiirting user george behave yourusername get ready to see me more often georgerussell63 looking forward to it ❤️ liked by author

╭──────────.★..─╮ monaco grand prix ╰─..★.──────────╯

liked by redbullracing, ferrari, f1 and 788,900 others

f1gossip New couple alert! After an astonishing win by four time World Champion Max Verstappen in Monaco, he celebrated in a different style by running straight into his girlfriend's, Y/N Y/L/N, arms, launching their relationship to the world

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user yes! real journalism is back

user the most exciting part of the race to be honest

user his radio after crossing the line saying "this one is for my girlfriend"😭👏👏👏👏

user i collapsed on my living room user the crowd was shook

user this was cinematic af the f1 movie could never

user i bet max got tired of y'all saying she's dating every single driver, except him, so he decided to end this shit and shut everyone up

maxverstappen1 that's precisely it

user hard lauching your relationship with a socialite who is like every guy's dream girl after winning the monaco grand prix and securing first place on the championship is actually so max verstappen

liked by yourusername, redbullracing, danielricciardo and 8,922,394 others

maxverstappen1 Got tired of you guys saying she is dating every single guy on the grid but me, so I had to prove a point

view all comments

lando mate you did not have to win like this to prove a point...

danielricciardo bro you could've just told the press...

maxverstappen1 it wouldn't have the same effect

user may this love find me🙏🙏

user he is so extra pls 😭🙄

yourusername next time you're about to kiss me on live television, please let me know so i can put red lipstick and smudge your face

user ok now they're just being unhinged maxvertsappen1 get ready then 😉

user if this is how they announced their relationship, i wonder how they'll announce their wedding

maxverstappen1 maybe a few fireworks in red and blue with the words "will you marry me?" after i win the wdc danielricciardo how is your pr team allowing you to post this? maxverstappen1 they aren't

redbullracing red bull princess 💙❤️

charles_leclerc it's okay yourusername you're still invited to our garage whenever😊😘

maxverstappen1 @ yourusername you've been to their garage?????? charles_leclerc and she'll keep coming maxverstappen1 only to set your car on fire

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, lando and 4,389,382 others

yourusername i rather much prefer the kissing without the helmet on, thank you very much

view all comments

user she said "that's my man"✋💅

user your honor i'm on the floor

user i'm a big fan of this

user no way how tf did he pull her?

maxverstappen1 love you! ❤️

lando gross 🤢 it's like seeing my parents kiss

yourusername take your single ass out of my ig comments

charles_leclerc i wonder what max did to deserve this much success in life🫠

user lmaoooo charles user this comment please💀💀

user fucking max verstappen is the luckiest guy in the world

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, lando and 2,392,283 others

danielricciardo i'm glad these two idiots decided to go public so now i can post pictures like this without having pr screaming at me

view all comments

user Y/N AND HEIDI WITH THE MATCHING SHIRTS😭😭😭😭

user i am totally normal about this btw

user can you imagine this double date???

user absolute chaos

yourusername omg if you ever caught me wrapped in a max verstappen blanket, no you didn't

danielricciardo that's not even the only picture i have of you like this lando i have about three tbh

maxverstappen1 you look like a fan account😂😂😂

user don't be shy dani post your entire camera roll

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 writing #max verstappen smau #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic

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suliigwp · 28 days ago

Note

HIII omg i love your writings!! got this idea while i was in the bathroom blasting alchemy by taylor swift and you were the first writer i thought of that i know would slay this! Reader is a known singer but she doesnt really write love songs which charles is completely fine about. His friends ask and tease him about it and he brushes it off then one night on one of her tours she sings alchemy for the first time while charles is watching from the crowd. His whole world stops and maybe even tears up then he just goes on for days bragging about it. HUMOUR AND FLUFFF WHATEVER U WANT THANK YOU SO MUCH

WHERES THE TROPHY?

Charles Leclerc x Singer! Reader | fluff

SULI: hiii omg you have no idea how much it means remembering me first🥹 thank you soooo much!!!!! — very cool because I actually do have a singer!readers series coming up but none of the love interests is Charles sadly— but I really love singer au's and this was so much fun to write! Thank you so much for requesting, love you, hope you enjoy🫶

I'm absolutely obsessed with this song — stream "The alchemy" now!!!

Warnings: none, short and sweet, Twitter post at the end

Charles liked to think he had you figured out.

At least, the version of you the world didn’t get to see — the quiet one, the tired one after long studio nights, the version that wore his hoodie to bed and snuck kisses onto his shoulder when you thought he was sleeping.

He liked being the silent inspiration, the person behind the curtain. You were his in private — that was more than enough.

"She doesn't write love songs."

That was the line Charles Leclerc had come to know and love. He’d heard it in interviews, read it in headlines, and smiled through every late-night talk show where someone inevitably asked, “So, do you really not write about him?”

The camera would zoom in, the crowd would laugh, and you’d flash that sly little grin. “Don't worry, if I wrote a love song,” you always said, “you’d know it.”

Charles didn’t mind. In fact, he was fine with it.

You were his.

Even if the rest of the world liked to think you belonged to them.

The fans, the cameras, the interviews — they all wanted pieces. But Charles had long made peace with being the part no one else got to hear in the songs.

Because you didn’t write love songs.

Everyone said so.

You said so.

And Charles believed it. Until the night you didn’t.

...

back, first year of dating

“You still haven’t written a song about me,” Charles teased from the couch, bare feet on the floor, one arm lazily slung around your waist. His eyes were half-lidded, lips curled into that soft smile he only gave you when the world was quiet.

You rolled your eyes, brushing your fingers through his curls. “You say that like you’re not already in every other one.”

“Yes, but I want the main character treatment,” he said, dramatically pressing a hand to his chest. “The standing ovation. The bridge that emotionally ruins people.”

You just laughed, kissed his cheek, and said, “Maybe when you win Monaco.”

He groaned. “Cruel woman.”

...

He hadn't told you he was coming.

You were in the middle of a sold-out run through Europe, and Charles was drowning in simulator sessions and car debriefs. But when he saw the gap in his schedule, he booked the ticket quietly, packed light, and told his engineers he was leaving for “something more important than tyre degradation.”

Barcelona was a quick flight from Monaco. Your show there had been sold out for months, and he knew better than to try and sneak in through backstage. So he did what no one expected:

He lined up like everyone else.

He didn’t tell you. You were always happiest on stage, and he wanted to be just another face in the crowd that night. Just a quiet, anonymous dot in a sea of lights and sweat and noise.

Hood up, cap low, a simple black tee that did nothing to hide how gorgeous he was. He bought a pit wristband from resale (triple the price, but whatever), pushed into the crowd, and waited.

His heart beat harder the closer it got to showtime.

He didn’t know why. He’d seen you perform dozens of times. Hell, he’d watched you rehearse in sweats with a tea bag hanging out of your mouth. He lived with you.

But something about tonight buzzed different.

The lights dimmed.

The crowd erupted.

And then you appeared.

...

You always had a certain way of standing still — calm, rooted, like you didn’t need fireworks to be the most magnetic person in the room. Charles felt the shift the second you stepped up to the mic.

“This one’s new,” you said softly.

The crowd stilled.

“I wasn’t planning to play it live yet, but…”

You paused, and smiled.

“He’s here tonight.”

The girls around Charles screamed.

He went still.

No.

You’re not—

The opening chords were simple, soft. A rhythmic pulse like a heartbeat.

"Shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads, Champagne sticking to the floor"

The lyrics felt so close, so personal, Charles swore you were staring right at him, even though you couldn’t see him through the crowd.

"Cheers chanted, cause they said, There was no chance, trying to be The greatest in the league"

And then.

Then.

“Where’s the trophy? He just comes running over to me.”

Charles’s knees nearly buckled.

The lyric struck him like a punch to the gut.

He didn’t even breathe for a second — chest tight, hands shaking, mouth parted in stunned silence.

You remembered.

Monaco.

That day.

The crowd, the flags, the win — his first home win. The one he had chased like a ghost for years.

He remembered the noise, the champagne, the cameras flashing. But more than anything, he remembered you, standing behind the barrier, tucked to the side — quiet and glowing and waiting.

He hadn’t even thought.

He just ran.

Straight to you. Through the crowd. Past everyone. Helmet barely off.

You caught him in your arms like you’d been waiting there your whole life.

“Where’s the trophy?” the reporter had asked him after.

And he’d smiled before glancing over at you.

...

By the time you hit the final chorus, Charles had completely given up pretending he was okay.

His eyes were glassy. His cheeks were damp.

A teenage girl next to him elbowed her friend and whispered, “That guy is, like, sobbing.”

He didn’t even notice.

When you sang the last line and let the guitar fall quiet, Charles couldn’t move.

The stadium exploded in sound.

You bowed.

The lights went out.

And he just stood there — one hand pressed over his heart, whispering the lyric under his breath like a prayer.

...

Backstage, everything felt like static.

You were mid-change when a tech knocked on the greenroom door.

“Uh… sorry, there’s a guy trying to come back here. He says he’s your boyfriend? Hoodie, cap, extremely beautiful—kind of panicked?”

You laughed, heart already racing.

“Let him in.”

Charles barrelled into the room like a man possessed.

“You—” he said, voice raw.

You turned, makeup still smudged, hair frizzing from sweat, and barely had time to open your arms before he was there — pulling you into him like he hadn’t seen you in years.

“Monaco?” he whispered.

You nodded against his chest.

He pulled back just slightly, hands cupping your face, eyes red-rimmed and earnest. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did.”

“You wrote about it.”

A breathless laugh. “You wrote about me.”

You shrugged playfully, nose brushing his. “Guess you’re the main character now.”

His grin cracked wide and helpless, and then he kissed you. Soft, slow, deep — the kind of kiss that says thank you and I love you and I’m never letting this go.

“You’re screwed now,” he whispered, grinning against your mouth.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to brag about this forever.”

...

And he did.

The next morning:

And for the rest of the season, no matter how many podiums he earned, Charles had one answer to every post-race interview:

“Where’s the trophy, Charles?”

“She’s probably watching from home.”

Taglist, comment to be added;

@angstynasty @cryinghotmess @mits-vi @dramaticpiratellamas @mimisweetz @mrssaturday @chiara8104 @moonlight-girls-posts @linnygirl09 @rue-t @danielricroll @the-vex-archives @trees-are-books @blodwyn4u @yoruse @ccrickett-t @l-a-u-r-aaa @multifans-things @woderfulkawaii @azrinableuet @mayax2o07 @everyday-is-sunday365 @devilacot

Make sure you can be tagged!

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salvieslovenotes · 6 months ago

Text

Mirror Mirror

vi x reader, 18+ themes!!

Vi receives a nude from you for the first time and... freaks out a little

(a/n: i haven't written anything like this before, please be gentle!!)

Vi loves the way your relationship is going. She's never taken it this slow before; her relationships in the past have all been about diving head-first, but this, with you, it feels different. She really, really likes you. She doesn't want to mess it up. And taking it slow feels good, it feels like the right thing.

She suspects she's in a bit deeper than you, afraid that it means more to her than it does for you, and so slow... yeah, that's good. Give her a bit of space, allow her to reign in the rush of feelings and want that floods her whenever she's around you.

It's new for her, not to be sure of where it's going, what's happening—but she's taking a step back, taking the cues from you. Whenever you want to take it a step further, she's more than happy to go there.

But it's also tricky, not seeing you every day when she wants to. Not being sure if you're feeling the same way. Only going on one or two dates a week, holding herself back when kissing you, afraid you'll taste the longing she can't swallow down, pull away because you don't want that. You made it very clear, you two were casual. Your relationship was supposed to be fun, and yeah—casual.

So she never mentions it, even though yeah, she wants to know if you're thinking about her, too, when you don't see each other. She wants you to be thinking about her. She wants to get little dirty texts from you, she wants to send them back. She wants to get a text and be thinking about it all day. But she respects your boundaries, and so she says nothing.

Casual is... not really how Vi feels about you.

But it's alright, she knows you haven't been treated right in the past. Been with some people who haven't been respectful, who've made it so you don't give your trust easily. And so she understands why you're hesitant about starting something serious, and she really wants to show you that she's not like the others. She would never do anything to hurt you, or make you uncomfortable.

It's a total slap in the face one morning when she's just messaged you hello like she always does and you respond... differently.

good morning love

sleep well?

She's busy pouring coffee when a moment later her phone buzzes with a new message.

Cupcake <3: Well... not so good.

Frowning, she types quickly.

oh??

Three dots appear on the screen and she waits impatiently, a little worried.

Cupcake <3: Yeah, couldn't sleep well.

Was kinda... distracted

Thinking about you

Vi stares at the last line, her heart suddenly beating hard in her chest, fast enough that her stomach clenches a little. Is this... are you doing what she thinks you're doing? For a moment she has a small panic; what if she's misinterpreted, because you two have never done anything like this before. Even your flirting is all tame, none of it overly suggestive, and what if she's got it totally wrong? What if you actually meant you were up because you were questioning the relationship. Is this you telling her you want to talk?

Now panicking in earnest, Vi glances down at her screen again where your three dots have reappeared. Wondering how to reply, she takes a sip of coffee—then promptly chokes.

Another message from you has just come through. This time, it's a photo.

A photo of you, specifically.

When Vi's finished coughing her lungs out, she grips her phone tight in both hands, staring, suddenly very certain that she was right the first time. It does not look like you're questioning the relationship.

The photo doesn't include your face, cutting off at your collarbones. Vi's gaze travels along their dip and curve, thinking of how she wants to run her tongue along that same line. You're clearly lying down in the image, rumpled sheets below your back. The lower half of the image cuts off again, just showing the elastic of your panties, and the fingers you're just slipping beneath the hem.

It's a matching set. Black lace, making the curve of your waist even sharper. Vi drinks in every pixel of the image, the way your fingers are teasing her, barely pulling the elastic of your panties as if it could snap back at any moment. She can imagine your satisfied little smile, the way your breaths would become more rapid and shallow as your hand slipped lower.

Vi lets out a shaky breath, a twinging ache of want low in her stomach. She doesn't need to move to know she's soaked her boyshorts. Pushing a hand that's trembling a little through her hair, she looks at the photo again, swallowing roughly. And shit—wait, the message is from almost ten minutes ago and she...

She has the sudden thought that you might be doing that right now, and fully just —spaces out. Gripping the counter until her knuckles are white, she closes her eyes, the picture of you blazing behind her eyelids. She thinks of the way your back would arch a little as you teased yourself, brushing a finger over your clit, bucking into your own hand. Biting your lip to stifle a moan, free hand clutching desparately at the sheets.

She still hasn't replied.

What does she even respond to something like that? Wow angel, thanks for wreaking me at eight in the morning.

Honestly, she's not really sure why this photo has... affected her so much. It's not the most explicit photo she's received from a girl, not by a long shot. Hell, some of her old hook-ups had sent full on videos and none of them had made her feel... quite like this. Shaky with the need to touch you, to have her mouth on your skin, your taste over her tongue. The desparate desire to make you hers, properly hers, someone that no one else would get to touch, to want, to have. You've barely been going out a month, and she wants it to be for always.

She's worried about leaving the message read and without a response—she doesn't want you to get the wrong impression, that it wasn't a good idea to send or worse, that she's unfazed by it.

But she just... doesn't know what to send back. In the past she's snapped responses without even thinking, quick photos of her touching herself, or maybe some at the gym, especially when she was with one girl who was particularly into her strength, but she doesn't know you well enough to know what you'd like, what would make you think of her in the way she's thinking of you—you're both still learning each other, the sex is still new. And she sort of wants...

She wants to make you feel like she does right now. She just doesn't know how.

For now she just sends a quick text, just the truth, before she can think twice about it—

fuck, angel

do you have any idea what you do to me?

—then locks her phone and religiously doesn't look at it for the rest of the day. Not that it makes a difference. Without ever opening your chat again, she's distracted. Thinking about you. Wanting you.

After work she can't take it anymore and calls Caitlyn, one of her closest friends and incidentally how you two met, as Caitlyn is also a close friend of yours.

Vi's not calling to ask for advice on nudes... but she's also not not calling to ask for advice on nudes. She and Caitlyn have been friends long enough that she's not even embarrassed about it.

"Fuck I just... I dunno what to do," she sighs. It's a little frightening, to want someone that badly, when she has no idea if you feel that strongly about her.

She's so highly strung her fingers have a tiny tremor in them even though she's only had one coffee today. Every time she thinks of that photo (which she's done approximately seven times a minute all day) her heartrate picks up, heat inching up her neck. She's pretty sure her cheeks have been flushed all day—though it's not particularly hot weather-wise.

She's wearing tight black jeans, her old pair full of rips she usually wears when tinkering on her bike, but it was a bad choice today because they're tight around her waist, and every time she bends or takes a seat the seam presses against her. Usually she doesn't notice, but now even that slight pressure is enough to have her biting back a whine as she thinks again about your long fingers curling under the lacy hem of your panties, the way you'd —

A soft laugh in her ear snaps her back to the present. Fuck, she needs to get it together.

"Okay, I'm gonna help you," says Caitlyn on the other end of the line, sounding vaguely amused. "But only because you're being a pathetic wet sock. Alright, you want her to want you?"

"Uh-huh," Vi mumbles, slumped over her counter top and staring moodily at the floor.

"Right, go into your bedroom."

"Okay..." Vi replies, pushing herself up off the counter and wandering through her small flat to her bedroom. "M'kay, I'm there."

"Open your wardrobe door," Caitlyn instructs, "the side with the long mirror. You still have that mirror, don't you?"

"Uh-huh," Vi says, pulling open the side of her wardrobe with the mirror attached. "Now what?"

"Now take off your shirt, and turn around. "

Having tossed her phone onto her bed, halfway out of her shirt Vi pauses, frowning. "Turn... around?"

There's an exasperated sigh from Caitlyn's end. "Yes, turn around. One-eighty. One-eight-zero. Turn around."

"So I'm... not facing the mirror?"

There's another sigh from Caitlyn. "Fuck, Vi, you useless lesbian. Yes, turn around so your back is to the mirror."

"My back?"

"Yep." There's a smirk in Caitlyn's voice when she adds, "Trust me, that's all you need to do to make her want you."

And well, Caitlyn's not wrong.

#salvie writes #rahhhh #the full reveal of vi's back did things to me #good day for the girls #vi x reader #arcane #arcane s2 #arcane league of legends #lesbian #wlw #arcane vi #arcane season 2 #sapphic #vi x you #vi x fem reader #vi fanfic

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sooniebby · 6 months ago

Text

ఌ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐄

w.c › 6k

warnings › face claims. Part 3. Bottom male reader. Brief use of the word “pussy”

plot › you start to date Mingi, learning how much he has wanted you for years while reevaluating your relationship with Yohan

kinks › feminization, friction play, size differences, Noona kink, calls reader “girl”, praise kink

Words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male will call an older male. Jagiya/Jagi (자기야) — “sweetie/baby.” Noona (누나) — a term a younger male will call an older female.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Four years ago

“I heard you.”

Yohan glanced over at you, staring at your back. It was the day of the group’s first performance. The other members were to the other side of the dressing room, doing vocal exercises. You were fixing your tie. Everyone was dressed in school uniforms.

“Heard what?” Yohan asked, tilting his head. He never talked to you unless necessary. While every other member seemed to just fall at your feet—he wanted nothing to do with you.

It took a minute before you turned and looked at him. His eyes widen at the sight. You were on the verge of tears but somehow you were able to glare at him.

You walked over to him, “I heard you say that I must’ve slept with the CEO to get my position in the group.” Your voice was quiet. “I heard you say that Minnie probably hates me because I ‘replaced’ him.”

“Minnie?” Yohan whispered, raising an eyebrow.

“Let me tell you something, Park Yohan.” You leaned over, your breath brushing against his ear. “You don’t have to like me but I won’t take disrespect and I won’t let you tear this group down because you’re upset I’m a better leader than you.

“Besides, a real leader wouldn’t let his feelings get in the way of the group’s performance.” With that, you pulled away, not even sparing him another glance. You moved to where Gaeul was standing and motioned for her to help you fix your tie.

Yohan just stood there, staring at you in shock.

What the fuck?

He couldn’t even think about anything else—mainly on just what else could you have possibly heard.

But he didn’t get to think for long when it was Miracle’s time to perform. The group got on stage and Yohan felt weirdly uncomfortable. Almost all of the members looked at you for guidance—they didn’t even spare him a glance.

As each member got into position, Yohan glanced over at you. Your eyes were soft and resembled a doe. He took note that you didn’t even pay any attention to the people in the crowd but the members, giving each of them a wide smile.

You glanced at him and immediately your softness was gone. You simply nodded at him and fixed your head mic, making sure it was straight.

The metronome in the earpiece ticked before the song burst into the quiet scene. Everything was going well for the most part. While the crowd wasn’t too excited as it was the debut stage—a few people were getting interested.

Every members mic was on but you were certainly the highlight, managing to sing non stop, even singing your ad-libs.

As Yohan moved about stage, he heard the sound of fabric tearing. He didn’t even need to touch his legs to know his pants had ripped. Fucking cheap stakes! The pants were already tight on him, of course they ripped.

He continued dancing while subtly checking where the damage was done. His inner thigh… which was fine until he could tell it spread to the area of his crotch.

For fuck sakes. Yohan debated running off stage so he didn’t flash the audience as he got in a still position during your final chorus. As he mentally cursed himself while thinking of ways to subtly run back stage, you began tugging off your blazer.

You did it subtly enough that it looked as if it was apart of the performance. You didn’t even skip a second as you wrapped your blazer around Yohan’s waist, covering the growing split.

Yohan felt himself stiffen as you rest your head on his shoulder, finishing your line before Kihyun took over for the high note. This part of the song had all of the members frozen beside Kihyun.

Yohan tried to calm himself down as you stayed pressed against him, sacrificing your original position of standing beside him. He didn’t even know how you noticed his pants ripped. Everyone was so focused on completing the performance without a problem.

The rest of the song went fine, ending with each member’s picked out ending fairy. Yohan couldn’t even care too much, way too happy about not flashing anyone. He’d have to complain to the stylist today.

As the crowd clapped, the members released their pose and began to bow, thanking the audience. Yohan was about to say something when the sound of a whimper caught his attention.

He looked to his right to see you bawling…?

You took off your microphone as you covered your mouth to muffle your cries. Hyojin was almost immediately by your side, rubbing your back in comforting circles.

It didn’t take long for Doha to join, patting your head. Kihyun took a moment before coming over. Mingi looked nervous as he covered your body from the crowd’s face, almost like a way of giving you modesty.

Yohan just stared….

His group were comforting you as if they knew you for years now.

What the fuck?

After the group helped you walk off stage and everyone got changed into their regular clothing, Yohan was ready to just go home. He just hated that would still have to see you.

Everyone lived in a shared apartment, two boys in one room each. They had only moved in a few days ago and he was unlucky enough to room with you.

When they reached the apartments, Yohan was confused to see Kihyun taking some boxes away from his room. He walked in to see you on your side of the room, rubbing at your face. You glanced up when you heard him and frowned.

“Park Yohan-Ssi.” You said, he didn’t know how to feel with how respectful you were speaking to him—as if he was a coworker. “I’m switching rooms with Dodo—Doha. It… makes sense.”

“Makes sense?” Yohan asked, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

You almost looked nervous before shaking your head. “A..anyway, I wanted to apologize… it was rude of me to say such things to you today right before a performance. I made you perform terribly.”

Yohan could only stare at you.

This…

How can someone be this….

He didn’t understand.

“I’ll go now…” you whispered, leaving the room quickly. Yohan didn’t even flinch.

Even if you had just apologized…

You weren’t wrong.

He was fucking up the group’s dynamic.

And it was all because he fucking hated you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

After the 24 hrs performance, you had gained a wider audience than before. Gaeul had mentioned that there was a growth in female fans for you and she was certainly right. It was nice to see some fans that weren’t just thirsting over you but this somehow pushed you into more of the NSFW sphere of Miras.

You had went back to visit Hanniesmira only to see that she had started talking about you more. She had recently reposted another post of you.

The most repost was of a short clip of you at the amusement park. You were showing off the makeup the lady had done.

→ I wasn’t familiar with your game, bottom (Name) enthusiasts…

This account was of what looked to be a Kihyun biased Mira. You didn’t know to feel about there being ‘bottom enthusiasts’ but it was nice to see people appreciating your looks. Lots of comments even just innocently saying that you look great feminine.

You scrolled through some other posts when you came across a video from your debut. It was of the group at a variety show and you were standing together as the host was talking about something.

→ ??? I’ve never seen (Name) act like this before??

You didn’t understand what the Mira could’ve meant when you clicked on the video. It started off small as nothing out of the ordinary happened, just you fixing your position to stand straight. But then the clip replayed, with it zoomed in to your shoulder as you stood beside Yohan. The footage was slowed to show how when Yohan brushed up against you, you practically froze and immediately moved away.

@hanniesmira

↳ you didn’t know? Are you a new Mira?

@dohasflatass

↳ man, it was a whole thing! Yhn and (Name) didn’t interact with each other at all for the first six months

@hanniesmira

↳ six months? Naaaah, they didn’t get close until the group’s second year ㅋㅋㅋ

@hyoojinie

↳ dark times… now Yhn can’t leave (Name) alone ㅎㅎ I wonder why they hated each other so much

Before you could read anymore, Mingi came into your room. You shut off your phone and placed it down. You’d knew that it wasn’t exactly a secret for the fan base that you and Yohan weren’t chummy until the group’s second year.

You had honestly believed you’d never get close to him at all. But after your family emergency back then—Yohan practically changed.

Deep down, you constantly wondered if he would’ve still hated you if you didn’t go through that whole accident. You were deep in thought as you stood up and got into the motion to get ready for a shower.

Mingi being in the room didn’t even register until he suddenly spoke.

“Why can’t I tell anyone?”

You frowned, glancing over at Mingi who was now lying down on your bed. He was watching you get undressed. Even though you always tell him to look away—he doesn’t exactly listen to you anymore.

It had literally only been two days and Mingi acts as if he is your husband.

“It’s not smart. Hannie obviously can’t hear about it right now and it’s not fair to tell everyone but him.” You said, tugging off your boxers. “Just wait until after our album promotion… we’ll get a six month break so hopefully that’ll be a great time for Hannie to handle the news—if he really does like me.”

Mingi sighed. “You’re so naive, Hyung… you’d think you’re the youngest.”

You glared at him. “Just because I’m your boyfriend doesn’t mean you can speak so lax with me.”

“Why not?” Mingi smirked, his eyes glancing down at your bare lower half as you tugged off your shirt. “You’re lucky I haven’t showed you just how little honorifics mean to me. I’d like it if you’d call me Hyung in bed.”

“Mingi!” You whispered, eyes widen as you stared at him in shock. He was kinkier in ways you didn’t think was possible. But then again, you were a virgin… maybe this wasn’t that strange to be average adult.

“Can I take a shower with you?”

“Absolutely not.” You stormed off to the bathroom.

After showering, you came back to see Mingi was still on your bed. He turned his phone off immediately and gave you a grin. You only rolled your eyes, pulling out some pajamas.

You draped the towel on your shoulders as you pulled up your boxers. “Ah, I wanted to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I found a fan account of mines… Itsokokok. It’s so nice to see that I do have a fan account.” You said, glancing over at Mingi. He looked weirdly happy, a wide grin on his lips.

“Really? Of course you’d have a fan account.”

You smiled. “I guess. But, I think I know who runs the account.”

Mingi immediately sat up. “Wha—Ho—Who??”

You turned to fully face him, “Well I always knew the owner was a guy but it was weird how he talks about me. It’s like he knows me so well… but he hardly even responds to comments.” You smiled, walking over to Mingi.

He stared up at you, his eyes wide. You didn’t understand why he looked a bit nervous as you leaned down and kissed his nose.

“Who do you… think it is?” He asked.

“Kim Pilseung.”

Mingi blinked before raising an eyebrow, “who?”

“Kim Pilseung! The guy I signed the album for, I even gave him my number—”

“—excuse me?” Mingi stood up at that confession but you carried on, slipping on your shirt.

“But he hasn’t called me yet. Maybe he’s just shy.” You slipped on your shirt. “But it makes sense! He’s been around for a while—he’d know where to find pre debut videos of my past performances.”

“I’m still confused on why you gave a stranger your phone number.”

“I have two phones.” You said. “A work phone and a personal phone. I just gave him my work phone number.”

Mingi frowned. “What phone number do I have?”

“Work phone. Only my relatives have my personal phone number, I hardly use it because I don’t want a sasaeng to get the number.” You walked over to your night stand and opened the drawer, pulling out a phone that looked considerably older. “My personal! I’ve had it since I was in high school.”

You tossed it back inside, “it’s not like I use it often. It’s quite old, I need to buy a new one.”

Mingi only shook his head. “Anyway, I just want to know who the fuck Kim Pilseung even is. What the hell was he talking about when he mentioned a performance you did with someone else.”

“Don’t speak to me like that.” You said, sending him a swift glare. Mingi quickly straightened his posture as he apologized. “Good. Ah but Seungie was talking about the duo I was apart of. It was me and an old classmate of mines.”

“Seungie?” Mingi asked. “Wait, you were in a duo with a classmate?”

“Yea, cute right?” You giggled. “Mhm. My classmate and I performed together until he debuted in his company. We couldn’t perform together anymore after that. I almost gave up when that happened.”

You grabbed your (work) phone and pulled up your mother’s Instagram. It took a minute as you scrolled through the numerous photos she posted about you until you got to the first ever video she took.

It was another angle of the A.D.T.O.Y. Performance you did back in high school. This angle showed that you weren’t alone on stage but there was another boy beside you.

The caption was a bit crazy, but your mother was just an eccentric woman.

→ my baby performing!!! The voice of an angel, got it from me of course ㅋㅋㅋㅋ edit: Stop messaging me that song is inappropriate, he’s fully clothed!!! And yes, I know His friend is there too… I guess he sounds good too

“His name is Hong Garam.”

“He shares the same last name as you?”

You giggled, “yeah! That’s how we first started talking. Cute right?”

“We find different things cute.” Mingi rolled his eyes. “I’ve never heard of him, I guess he didn’t make it in the business.”

“You’re so childish. He has a stage name. He even—”

“Okay, okay, I care more about this Kim Pilseung. You think he’s the owner of your fan account, why do you care?”

“I want to thank him… is that weird?”

“No… I guess not, but honestly—you don’t need to.”

You frowned, “why not?”

Mingi sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to talk about another man right now, I was planning on having fun tonight.”

“Fun?”

“Never mind. I wanna sleep, lay down.” He didn’t even wait for you to respond as he pulled you to lay down on the bed. You didn’t even fight it, allowing him to manhandle you into his arms as he cuddled you.

“Minnie… I need to turn off the lights.”

“No.”

As he easily fell asleep, you couldn’t help but think back to the day everything changed between you and Yohan.

Two years ago

You were standing by the bridge, glancing up the moon. It was cool, the April weather finally starting warm up as May was approaching. You had to miss the group’s trip to the amusement park due to a family emergency and you were trying hard to not think about it.

It was silly. It was just an amusement park anyway…

Your gaze was on the water beneath the bride as you stood up on your tippy toes to get a better look.

It was almost calming when you were suddenly tackled to the ground. A loud scream left your throat as you immediately tried to fight against your assailant when you came face to face with… Yohan?

You stared up at him with wide eyes before a frown pulled on your lips. “Yohan-Ssi, what are—?”

“—are you crazy?!”

You blinked. “Crazy?”

Yohan glared down at you as he gripped your wrists. “Were you seriously about to jump? I know everything seems terrible right now but you can’t.. you can’t just leave the others… they’d be crushed.”

“But I wasn’t—”

“—even I’d… I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.” His voice had gone soft, his grip loosening. “They can’t.. no, we can’t go on without you. I know I’m such a dick and nothing I say can change that but please… let me make it up to you, no matter how many years it takes. Don’t leave us, Hong (Name)… we can be your new family—especially after losing—”

“—Park Yohan, my family didn’t die.” You said, interrupting him.

“Huh?” Yohan opened his eyes, they were surprisingly wet with tears. “But the nurse said they died at the scene…?”

“The car accident wasn’t anything serious.” You shook your head. “I had to come for my mom so they can patch a cut she has on her forehead. Only the car got damaged.” You frowned. “The nurse must’ve gotten me mixed up with someone else.”

“So… your mom and brother didn’t die in a car crush?”

“No. I don’t even have a brother.” You stared at him up, tilting your head. “Besides… there’s a net attached to the bridge, it’d catch me if I really did want to jump.”

Yohan simply blinked. “So… so I…”

“You cared enough to run after me?” You whispered, a slight grin on your lips. “Y’know, this wouldn’t have happened if you visited when the other members came.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” You laughed. “So, is that it? Will you start ignoring me now?”

Yohan got off of you, staring down at you. He glanced over the bridge—possibly checking to see if you weren’t lying before shaking his head.

“No. I guess I just needed a push to be honest. I meant every word.”

It was your turn to stare at him in shock. Your lips parted as you tried to speak but only a gasp left you.

It was from that moment, that Park Yohan had realized how bad he—no, the group—needed you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Kim Pilseung still hadn’t called you—you were beginning to think maybe he didn’t want to. But then again, he was shy when speaking to you. Perhaps he was just nervous.

You were in the dance studio with the other members after a long day of practicing. Mingi and Yohan looked to be acting normal so you were semi happy. Though there would be instances of Mingi would purposely touch your waist in ways he’d never done before.

Luckily Yohan didn’t seem to be taking the bait, yet…

“You keep staring at your phone,” Kihyun suddenly said, wiping at the sweat on his neck. “Waiting for someone? Maybe that guy you visited all the time?”

Mingi immediately sat up from the floor, staring straight at you. “What guy? When was this?”

“When Hyung, Hyojin and I shared an apartment together,” Kihyun said, unknowing to the inner turmoil he was sending Mingi into. “Hyung would leave at 10:00 pm sharp and come back with this guy. The guy was always overly dressed—hat and face mask. He wouldn’t even speak, just dropped off a sleepy Hyung before leaving like the flash.”

Hyojin hummed. “I thought he was drugging Hyung but it seems Hyung just has a natural clock.”

You frowned, “that’s a bit embarrassing.” By natural clock, it simply meant your body automatically shut down by midnight. No matter how hard you tried—you would practically drop like a rock into slumber. You only managed to stay up to 12:30 am, once. Back in middle school no less.

“Who was he anyway? You stopped meeting with him right before we moved into double apartments?” Kihyun asked.

“Ah. Hong Garam.” Only Mingi seemed bothered by this while the other members only stared at you in confusion.

“Who the fuck is that?” Doha asked.

“Hyung’s old classmate,” Mingi answered, his face tense as his jaw tightened. Shit, you’d have explaining to do later.

“He’s also Hong Hwan.”

That seemed to cause Hyojin to sit up. “Hong Hwan?!”

Even Kihyun seemed shocked. “Hong Hwan?! I’ve met Hong Hwan and I didn’t even know!” He cursed to himself, shaking his head.

Mingi groaned, “who is that?!”

“Hong Hwan,” Doha answered. “A popular actor. Well he used to be an idol but he’s basically more of an actor nowadays. His group disbanded but he has solo songs.”

“Do you guys still talk?” Mingi asked. “You haven’t been leaving the dorm.”

You nodded. “He’s busy with promotions for his latest drama. I can let you guys meet him when he’s free.”

“I’d love that, Hyung!” Kihyun immediately said, a grin on his lips.

The other members chimed in agreement while Mingi only huffed, shaking his head. You sighed. After a few minutes of brief conversation, Gaeul walked into the studio with a grin on her face.

“Hey, Hey~! So tomorrow you guys will record content but it’ll be different from normal!” She said, giggling in excitement. “It’ll be a roleplay—like a family type thing. There’ll be two parents, three kids and the other is one of the character’s boyfriend.”

“Like a drama?” Doha asked.

“Yes yes. The whole plot is that the parents and younger brothers don’t approve of their eldest daughter’s boyfriend because he looks like a gang member.”

“Daughter? So one of us has to play a girl?” You asked.

“Technically two girls, as there’s a mom. Anyway, we allowed Miras to pick all of your roles! We did a poll on Twitter. So first, the boyfriend will be played by Mingi!”

Mingi perked up at that, “really?”

“Yeah, yeah. Ah, the younger brothers will be played by Yohan and Doha. You can pretend to be any age you want.” She scrolled on her phone as she hummed slightly. “And now for the daughter, Hyojin will be the daughter—is that okay, Hyojin-Ah?”

Hyojin hummed. “I’m fine with it.”

“Great. That leaves (Name) and Kihyun.”

You kinda mentally prepared to be the dad—it was obvious. Miras constantly called you Miracle’s dad! But you never thought they’d vote Kihyun as the mom—he wasn’t the type. Honestly you were shocked Doha wasn’t the boyfriend as his whole assigned persona was a bad boy.

Maybe Miras wanted a little change as well.

“Kihyun was voted as the dad and (Name) as the mom! The van will pick you guys up at noon tomorrow, be ready! I’ll see you guys later.” With that, she left.

You blinked. That was a surprise.

But a welcomed one at that.

The group all went home after that. You expected Mingi to immediately start questioning you about Hwan but he seemed to have forgotten all about it. He only sprawled out on the couch and began watching a random Thai drama. You gave him a quick kiss good night before leaving to your bedroom.

You pulled out your phone and began checking Twitter again, wanting to see the polls. It wasn’t anything too crazy—no one seemed mad at the results. In fact a lot of Miras were excited to see Mingi as a ‘bad boy.’

A few giddy to see Hyojin as a girl.

As you scrolled you came across an older video—it looked to be from the group’s second year. The groups first ever festival performance. You remembered it was for a college festival.

The video looked to be off the ending. Each member was walking to their ending position. The song playing was ‘Sweet Dreams’ so each member got down to the ground and laid their head on the other’s shoulder, pretending to fall asleep.

After the final verse, each member began to ‘wake up’ as they waved at the fans. But when it reached Kihyun, second to last, he didn’t get to get up because your head was still resting on his shoulder. He reached over to tap your shoulder only to find out you were fast asleep.

He immediately began laughing and comfortingly patted your head as the other members turned around to see what was wrong.

You vaguely remembered why you had fallen asleep—it was midnight by the time the performance was over. It was a miracle you even managed to finish the performance when you remembered being sleepy the entire time.

A dip in your bed caught your attention as Mingi appeared beside you. He looked tired as he laid down, patting the spot beside him. You only rolled your eyes but laid down, immediately cuddling up in his arms.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“I think I make a pretty girl.”

You glanced over to see Hyojin already fully dressed in his girl costume. Because his hair was already a bit long, the hair stylist only added extensions to make them reach his shoulders. His outfit wasn’t too feminine by all means. A pink t-shirt and shorts.

He had on light makeup—one a teen girl would normally wear. You gave him grin.

“Cute~ My daughter is cute.” You teased, giggling as Hyojin rolled his eyes. The others were already done for the most part, waiting out in the living room. Filming was taking place in a random house the company rented out.

You were almost finished—the hairstylist simply fixing your wig. Dressed in a more feminine outfit—you wore a fluffy white sweater with a black pants that disguised itself as a flowing skirt.

The wig the hairstylist was putting on you was black that reached your back. It looked cheap but with the curls the stylist put it made it have more volume. Your makeup was minimal and hardly noticeable.

Hyojin hummed, joining you by the makeup stand. “You look like you could be someone’s mom.” He said, laughing when you glared at him through the mirror.

The both of you join the others where a staff member is clipping their mics to their clothing. Yohan was dressed in a soccer uniform while Doha still had on a school uniform with fake glasses.

Kihyun was dressed exactly like a dad. Rectangular glasses sat on the bridge of his nose while his hair was swiped back with gel. He’s dressed in a polo shirt and black slacks.

But they didn’t matter too much to you—your members always looked good. No, who caught your eye was, of course, Choi Mingi.

His blonde hair was shaggy and purposefully messy, a bit of dark eyeliner that sharpened his fox like eyes. He wore a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. He was fixing his clip on mic when he gazed over at you.

You watched as his eyes slowly widen with recognition as he took you in. You felt your cheeks burn as you wanted to look away but kept staring back at him. Did he think you looked good? Hopefully you looked good.

Filming started shortly after Gaeul reminded every one of the plot—you were all free to improvise basically everything. You sat down on the couch near Kihyun, leaning against his shoulder. His arm slid underneath your back as his hand let itself rest at the slight curve of your waist.

Even if you didn’t view Kihyun romantically, you couldn’t help but blush a little.

The little roleplay went fine for the most part, you acted like the ‘mediating mother’ who didn’t necessarily hate the boyfriend while the father and brothers hated him.

It was fun for the most part. Though throughout the roleplay, you could notice a strange tension rising between Yohan and Mingi. You began to watch them nervously as they faked argued. It was started to feel a bit too real with the words they were using.

“And how can you even be good for her—?” Yohan started.

“—Hey, Hey, you act like I’m ten!” Hyojin interrupted.

“Yeah, you’re so controlling,” Mingi chuckled. “What makes you the one who gets to choose for her?”

“Because—!”

“—this so annoying, she’s not worth this hassle. what if I take your mom instead will you still be this angry? She’s hotter anyway.”

Everyone blinked as they stared at Mingi. It took a second before Kihyun realized he should act as he immediately stood up and began spouting some nonsense while you could only stare. You felt hot as you couldn’t even come up with a line but only bury your face in your sweater.

You’d kill him later.

Shooting ended not even twenty minutes later. None of the staff seemed to be mentioning the whole ‘she’s hotter’ sentence. You wondered if they would just edit that out as you handed over the mic to a staff member. Each member looked ready to go home and eat—you included.

You need to take your wig off however so you began walking to the hairstylist when a hand grabbed your sweater and tugged you away. You didn’t even get a chance to scream before you were slammed into a storage closet.

It didn’t take a genius to know who had dragged you here.

“Mingi—can you be a bit gentler next time?” You whispered, sighing softly.

“Sorry, sorry.” Mingi gave you a cheeky grin before slowly guiding you rest your back against the wall. “But you look too good right now… I want to kiss you.”

You blushed slightly. “You look good too.” You shyly whispered, glancing up at him. Your hands slowly reached up and rest on his shoulders, gripping at his jacket before pulling him further down. Mingi didn’t need to be told twice as he eagerly kissed you, his hands grasping your waist.

The kiss was intense, Mingi kissing you like he wanted to eat you. His fingers dug into the waistband of your pants before managing to tug them down. They pooled around your feet as your eyes widen in shock. You pulled away from the kiss and stared up at him in shock.

“In.. in here?!” You whisper-yelled.

Mingi hummed, undeterred as he began pressing light kisses on your neck. “Just this once. I won’t ask for something like this again. Please, Noona?”

Your body shivered at the title, a strangled gasp leaving your throat as he teased the tip of your cock. Wait when did he pull down your underwear? Any part of you that didn’t want to do this was pushed down at the immediate pleasure of him teasing your cock.

No way you can wait until you get home now.

“Okay… just this once.” You whispered.

Mingi immediately began unbuckling his jeans with speed you thought was impossible. He still kissed and nipped at your neck—still careful to not leave any marks. You bit your bottom lip to muffle any moans as he gripped your thighs, lifting you up.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, nervous for how this would work. Wasn’t he supposed to prep you? But he was quite big, how long was he supposed to prep you for?

As you tried to calm yourself down, you felt his cock rub against yours. He had pulled up your sweater to show off your stomach. You shuddered and glanced down to see him line his cock right on top of yours.

“What’s this..?” You whispered, gasping as he began to slowly rub against you. “I thought you… were gonna put it in.”

“In here?” He asked, an incredulous expression on his face. “No way, not for your first time. We can get off like this. Just let me lead, Noona.” You blushed again as you meekly nodded.

His hands slid up to your waist as he pressed his body fully against yours. Your cock was now firmly against his—unable to slip away. Mingi pressed a soft kiss on your collarbone before pulling away just a bit to see your face.

“I’ll make it quick… so they don’t get suspicious.” He said, though you could tell that he would’ve dragged this out if there wasn’t the threat of getting caught. “Don’t make a sound, I don’t want anyone hearing you.”

It was slow at first. His hips bucked forward as your toes curled, his thicker cock dwarfed yours as they rubbed together. It burned a bit as there was no lube to make the friction smoother. Mingi seemed to notice this as he spit into his hand and rubbed it against both cocks. You tried not to be grossed out.

Sex was messy anyway.

He started out slow before speeding up. You almost wished he actually fucked you. This must’ve been how he usually fucks anyway. The tight grip on your waist as he slammed forward, your body shaking from the force.

The pre-cum leaking from your cock began to coat both cocks, allowing for an easier friction. Your voice was beginning to get louder as you buried your face into his neck, clawing at the jacket for some type of purchase.

“I bet you’re tight… so tight, Noona. Next time, I wanna fuck your pussy, can I? Can I, Noona?” He whispered, into your ear, chuckling when you only answered with a high pitched moan. “Do you like that? Calling your hole a pussy?”

His hips suddenly stilled as you cried in disappointment. “C’mon, Noona. I’m doing all the work… you can answer my question. Do you like it?”

You whined before nodding your head.

“Ah, ah, use your words. You’re an adult.”

“So mean…”

“What was that, Noona? You want me to stop?”

“No, no! I…” you whined, your cock aching for release. “I like it.. please I wanna cum.”

“See~” he cooed, “that wasn’t too hard. You’re such a good girl, Noona.”

His nails dig into your skin as he slammed his hips up, your cocks rubbing together once more. Your moans immediately leave you as you feel yourself reach your peak. You cum not soon after, Mingi’s name leaving your lips in a pathetic whimper.

Mingi follows right after, biting down on your bare shoulder. Luckily the cum didn’t reach the sweater. It coated both of your stomachs as he loosened his grip on you. You both breathed heavily as he glanced over at you.

“You really are hotter.” He said, a slight smirk on his lips.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

After that whole storage closet incident, you and Mingi have finally felt a bit more comfortable sex wise. In short, you guys were humping each other practically every night. Which led tonight: you were sitting on his lap, wearing only your boxers with a t-shirt.

You had been watching him gaming when he suddenly asked for a reward for beating his high score. You refused at first since you had wanted to go to bed an hour ago but he had begged you to watch him play.

It only took one puppy dog pout before you conceded and allowed him to choose a reward.

Of course the reward was you grinding on top of him. Your ass was directly over his dick. You could tell he wasn’t wearing any boxers underneath his sweatpants. It began to harden beneath your ass as you slowly grind on top of him.

“You’re so sexy, Hyung. I’m not sure if I can take this anymore,” Mingi groaned, reaching over to grasp your waist. You shivered.

“You.. don’t have to… I’m ready.”

Mingi blinked. “Really..? I can..?”

Your hips stopped as you blushed slightly, nodding your head. “Yeah… humping each other is fun but I wanna feel you.. i..inside me.” You thought you’d die of embarrassment.

But that almost seemed to send Mingi over the edge as he immediately flipped your positions to where you were laying on the couch. You stared up at him shock as he pulled down your boxers, your cock flopping free.

You couldn’t help but feel excited at how eager he was. You shyly opened your legs wider so Mingi could have easy access. Just as he was about to kiss your stomach, your phone began ringing.

You immediately shot up, ignoring Mingi’s whines as you reached for your phone. People hardly called you so you always immediately checked. It took a second for the name to fully register but when it did, a grin pulled on your lips.

홍가람

Hong Garam.

Three years ago

Mingi was a bit camera shy when it came to variety shows. He hardly looked into the camera as he just let the other members talk until he was called upon. Because of that, his gaze was focused on the members—mainly you, really.

So he noticed how you practically froze up when Yohan accidentally brushed against you. He’d never seen you react like that before. If he wasn’t on camera he would’ve said something but he decided to do something less disruptive.

Because everyone was standing in a huddle than a line, it was easy for him to slip between Kihyun and Doha to get to you. He stopped though—wanting to make it seem like he was just shifting around. After a minute or so, he moved again, gently pushing you further to the right so he could fit between you and Yohan.

Yohan didn’t seem to notice at all while you glanced over at Mingi, a confused look on your face. But Mingi didn’t look at you, knowing that if he did he would’ve fold immediately. He just stared at the host—pretending he was paying attention the entire time.

If he did glance over at you, he would’ve noticed the slight blush on your cheeks as you smiled to yourself.

The whole idea for a family drama thing was definitely from SKZ lmao. Leading heavily into feminization but Mingi has multiple kinks, just wait and see

Tag list: @tehyunnie @euthymiko @iwishtobeacrow @onementally-unstabel-kid @jaxyy219 @hoshimochicchi @honey-valentin3 @bensontrechic @ofclyde @star-3214 @love-kha1 @chill-guy-but-cooler @tomoeroi @the-ultimate-librarian @mooncarvers-world @mello-life25 @yuzuukix @smellwell @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @kiiyoooo @secretivemessenger @me-when-life @bangbangdevotee @bangchansdirty-slut @chaevvonders @jjsmeowthie @diamondnightsky23 @1-800-darktea @anchoredphoenix

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #male reader #oc x reader #mlm ns/fw #smut drabble #male bottom reader #original character

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dearhargrove · 6 months ago

Text

summary Seeing him that first time, you never could have imagined what life had in store for you.

(short fluffy one shot of their first meeting and then the night after he took her virginity while they're dating, based on a request)

word count 1309

You don't think you'll ever forget meeting him for the first time. How could you, with the impression he left?

—

You're at a fancy restaurant for a work celebration. The ambiance is dark and rich, the people sitting at the tables have that same vibe. Except one group of guys. The one you had noticed as soon as you stepped into this place.

They're sitting in the far back in one of the more private booths, however still in the middle and with a good overview of the whole area.

If you had to guess, the eldest of the three is the father and the twenty something year old guys are his sons. However your attention is drawn to the one sitting on the far right, looking almost on edge as he quietly listens to the other two talk. His muscles are visible through his suit, coffee brown curls tucked behind his ears and there's a necklace that shouldn't fit but just does.

There's something wilder, more strong to him than his two companions. His eyes are strikingly blue, eyebrows pulled into an annoyed frown as he sips his wine. Among that you also note that while the other two have ordered big steaks with barely any sides, he has a salad.

You distractedly continue picking at your dish, stabbing the fork into one of the ingredients for long enough that your colleague looks at you in concern, making you fluster and smile awkwardly.

She grins in amusement and turns to follow your line of sight, looking back to you with an expression that clearly translates into what you've been thinking too ever since first noticing the man; wow.

He's just so – manly. And yet there's still an elegance to him.

You let a strategic few minutes tick by before you look back at the mouthwatering man, only to look right into blue eyes.

You almost flinch, getting flustered immediately and smiling tightly – apologetically? – before hurriedly taking a bite of your dinner to pretend to be minding your own business.

Luckily, no one seems to have noticed your mishap and with a few well timed deep breaths your heartbeat returns to normal and your palms stop sweating.

Nevertheless, you excuse yourself to the ladies room and grab your clutch, not even pretending to know where the hell the toilet even is. You worm your way through the tables to where you guess the restrooms should be, only to almost run into a server coming out of that door who shoots you a confused but kind smile.

“Restrooms are on the other side, dove.”

You tense up, slowly turn around and — oh. It's him. And, dammit, he's even more beautiful up close. He carries a nice scent to him, but not a typical perfume, more of a natural breeze. It's nice, you note. “I noticed... I've never been here before, so–”

He smiles gently and you relax, reciprocating a light but bashful smile. “Don't worry about it. Come on, I'll show you?” he offers. "Oh, I wouldn't want to keep you from your dinner…”

He shakes his head, gives you a calculating look and then softens up a tiny bit, “Trust me, I'm grateful for any excuse to step back from there.” That surprises you a bit but it's none of your business, so you ignore it. You step closer to him and he starts leading the way, obviously walking slower so you could keep up in your heels.

And there's another thing you notice; instead of having to squeeze by the people and servers they part before him like the red sea. The people scoot closer to their tables, the servers bow their heads the tiniest bit and the other customers just smile tightly.

Just who is he? you wonder.

You're more intrigued than before now, momentarily pushing the thoughts aside when you stop in front of two doors; the men's and the ladies room.

“I suppose you'll find your way back to your table?” he kindly but slightly playfully comments. You grin in a mix of embarrassment and amusement, “Sure I will. Thank you, though.”

He shrugs in dismissal, then after a short awkward moment shoots you another smile and leaves.

You take a moment in the – luxurious – bathroom to freshen up, reapply perfume and deodorant, check your phone and do your business. You feel better when you walk back out, already expecting the onslaught of questions from your colleague who had noticed your staring and the man just to then see him lead you through the restaurant.

After paying for your meal (which legitimately made you wince when seeing the actual price because the menu did not have the prices listed) and dodging the questions of your curious coworker, you leave with a small group from your office, engaging in small talk.

You don't even see him when you walk out the door, focused on the story your coworker was telling, but you definitely hear him.

“That's a nice perfume.” His voice is soft but steady, slightly raspy too. You wouldn't mind hearing it more often, you decide.

You halt in your steps and turn around, surprised when you see his cheeky grin. He stops holding the door open, his own jacket slung over his arm and steps the last step down to stand right next to you.

“Thank you–?”

“Sergei.” He introduces himself, nodding his head. “–Sergei.” You repeat with a small smile. He stills for a moment and then blinks, swallowing and nodding. “May I ask the name of this lovely lady?”

You chuckle, slowly continuing your ascend of the stairway, “You may.” And while he asks and you answer with your name he holds out his arm, letting you loop your hand to hold onto his arm for balance.

—

And that's how you ended up here. In his bed, naked except some panties and his way too big t-shirt with his arm snug around your waist and his nose in your hair as he sleeps.

The sun is just rising, the orange and pink hues lighting up the place, forming beautiful shadows and tricks of light.

You turn your head to look at him and take in his beautiful face, bathed in the sunlight. His eyes are still closed, his breathing even and for once his face is relaxed instead of scrunched up from another fight with his father or an upcoming hunt.

However, he also seems to have gotten an extra sense tuned in to you ever since you started dating, so at your stare his eyes open and the blue irises focus on you. It makes you snort a bit and flick the tip of his nose, then turn back to keep watching the sunrise.

His hand moves under the shirt you're wearing to spread out along your skin, calloused hands gentle. “Been awake for long, baby?” The question is soft with a hint of concern and his voice is still husky from sleep.

“Just woke up,” you yawn and stretch a little, he uses the chance and puts his palm in the middle of your torso, tugging you back into his chest. He doesn't say anything further as he tucks into the crook of your neck and grumbles appreciatively when he smells nothing but your natural scent.

Since he told you about his powers you had started to wear less perfume around him (at least when it's just the two of you), as his sensitive sense of smell easily got irritated by the artificial cologne.

It's not long before his nosing turns into nibbling and you can already feel the next few bite marks form, probably meticulously placed to not cover the hickeys he'd left last night.

“Sergei—” he interrupts your upcoming complaint with a grunt and swiftly rolls on top of you, leaned on his forearms as he looks at you like you're his prey. You feel dwarfed under him, his huge biceps and broad shoulders covering you entirely.

At your perplexed expression he chuckles and softly kisses your forehead, “Can't hold back when I remember you're all mine.”

#aaron taylor johnson #sergei kravinoff x reader #sergei kravinoff #kraven x reader #kraven the hunter #aaron taylor johnson x reader #atj #atj x reader

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luvyeni · 5 months ago

Text

THE HIGH LIFE 𝕼. ( 02z )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 박종성 x fem!reader ) ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. rich!enhypen , exotic dancer!reader , threesome , oral ( m ), unprotected sex, double penetration word count. 2.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library !

synopsis … jay doesn’t mind sharing his new and favorite girl

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ why can’t i ever find a good clear photo of these three … anyways here it is and I hope you like you !

jake and sunghoon walked through the club ; the different half dressed dancer staring at them with hunger in their eyes; it’s like they could smell the money radiating off of the boys — they could see it too , just by the way they skipped the long line outside.

“the internet was right , jay really outdid himself with this club.” sunghoon eyed up a dancer who just smirked at him walking away. “where is that fucker anyway?” they searched around the club , weaving through all the people. “there he is.” jake pointed , the boy was sitting in vip , surrounded by very beautiful women scrolling through his phone; sunghoon scoffed. “cocky fucking bastard.” they made their way over to the vip section. “did you forget you invited or what?”

jay looked up from him phone ; shooing the dancers away. “go have some fun , make some money.” he said , sending the bouncers waiting in front away. ”you guys are an hour late.” he said , jake and sunghoon sat down. “sorry we have our own businesses to attend to.” sunghoon said. “besides seems like you had enough company to keep you business.” jake smirked. “not like you paid attention to them , how the fuck could you be glued to your phone while surrounded by so many sexy ladies?”

the three current young; rich and trending men sat in the secluded section in the crowded club. “yeah they’re all pretty , they make me tons of money but that’s pretty much it.” he shrugged. “you serious man?” jake took a sip of his drink. “all these pretty girls and not one you’ve taken home to that big lonely apartment of yours?” sunghoon asked not convinced at the words he was hearing. “stop fucking lying.”

he sat back in his seat with a smirk. “well there’s one.” he said , his friends exchanging glances between each other. “only one? well she’s got to be real fucking special to get the park jongseongs undivided attention.” jake said. “are you serious with her?” jay shook his head. “that’s the thing , she’s not looking to date , just a quick fuck here and there.” he said. “and pay her fucking bills probably.” jay didn’t take offense to that , he did pay for your living , but with all the money he had it was nothing to him. “she’s happy and im very , and i like to keep my girls happy.”

“so let’s meet her.” jay raised his hands , calling over one of the dancers. “yes mr. park.” sunghoon rolled his eyes , while jake smirked. “go get yn , tell her to get pretty and come out.” the dancer nodded , walking away. “mr. park? you narcissistic fuckhead.”

meanwhile you sat on the pink couch jay placed in the room you and the rest of the girls got ready in. “you dancing tonight yn?” another dancer asked you. “or are you waiting for jay to get off.” you smirked hearing the condescending tone in her voice. “don't start this today.” hana a bartender that you were friends with said. “let’s be real here , yn is the best dancer here , has the nicest ass and a good pair of tits , if it wasn’t gonna be her than it wasn’t gonna be you.” the door opened with a dancer walking in. “yn you’re working vip tonight for jay and his friends.”

you stood up off the couch , undoing your pink silky robe. “have fun tonight ladies.” you said , staring at the dancer who was red with anger. “maybe when im done with him you can have him , that’s a big maybe and when.” you said , slipping into your heels walking out of the room ; letting them deal with the girls' tantrum , you’ve gotten used to it now ever since the girls figured out the situation you and jay had going on. that’s exactly what it was a situation — you and him had fun and he showered you with gifts, nothing more.

you immediately caught jays eye as you made your way over to the section with a fresh bottle of the most expensive alcohol in your hand that you got when you stopped by the counter. “that’s an expensive bottle.” jay said. “and i guess it was on my dime?” you smiled. “now why would it be on mine?” you sat it in the ice. “you called me out here didn’t you?” you said. “well that’s because i wanted you to meet some friends of mine.” you turned facing the two very attractive men sitting in front of you. “you have very attractive friends.”

“ah don’t make me jealous.” jay said , his arm snaking around your waist pulling you into his lap. “you called me out here to play and i want to play.” you pouted , your eyes trained on sunghoon. “i like that one.” you pointed , sunghoon raised his eyebrow. “me?” he said you nodded. “yeah you.” oh you were snippy , he liked that. “told she’s a handful hoon.” jay rubbed your waist , he allowed you to do what you wanted , but at the end of the day he knew whose bed you’d end up in once the club closed. ”hoon.” you let his name fall from your lips in a sultry tone. “is he paying?” you asked more so him. “i have the money.” jay removed his arm , you stood up walking over to him. “good.”

you sat down right on his lap; his arm came around you to keep you upright. “don’t be so scared , you can look.” you whispered in his ear. “or touch i don’t mind , but that’s gonna cost you extra.” you felt him gripping your side. “princess play nice.” jay said. “i don’t think i want to.” you bit your bottom lip. “she’s a brat jay , i see why you like her so much.” you moved around in his lap , he hissed. “she’s too cute though.” jay said , jake sitting there , he hadn’t said anything since you came over , but you could feel his eyes on you. “is he a little shy?”

you moved to sunghoons other leg , resting your arms on the chair ; you leaned over to him. “thats jake baby.” you smiled. “well jake are you shy?” he shook his head. “no?” you tilted your head to the side. “that’s good , shy men bore me.” jay watched you , a drink in his hand , lure his friends into your sexy but dangerous web. “princess.” he spoke up. “how about we move this to a more private space?” he could see your eyes basically light up , standing up , grabbing your hand. “you guys coming?”

the four of you definitely knew what you were on the moment the door closed to the red room; jay immediately moved your hair to the side , kissing your neck; pulling your straps to your bra down. “you know what to do princess.” the three men stood in front of you; you slowly peeled the very little clothing you had on , a look of hunger and lust in their eyes as your boobs bounced due to the lack of a bra. “fuck , sexy ain’t she?” the two boys nodded; you pulled your panties off , throwing them at jake , leaving your thigh garters and heels on. “don’t just stand there like a bunch of pussies.”

“you know i don’t really like that mouth she has on her.” sunghoon said , he was the first one to walk over to you. “makes you want to shut her up doesn’t it?” jake nodded. “she’s too talkative , let's end that.” jake said , already unbuckling his jeans. “shut her up.” he sat down , freeing himself from his pants , his cock springing up , slapping against his stomach; he was a nice size , thick enough. his tip was read and leaking with precum. “look at her drooling like a slut.”

“suck him off.” jay commanded ; sitting down in the seat watching as you took him into your hand , jerking him off. “fuck.” jake groaned. “so big.” you go face to his cock , your ass in the air giving jay and sunghoon a look at your drenched cunt. “look at that.” jay slapped your ass , you moaned ; jake grabbing the back of your head , pushing your head down on his cock. “look at that wet pussy.” sunghoon chuckled. “drenched like a fucking slut.”

jake had you by your hair , guiding your head up and down on his cock , gagging on it as jay sunk a finger inside you. “gotta stretch this pussy out before we completely ruin it.” you moaned around jakes cock which made him moan. “fu-fuck her throat is so fucking good.”

“she’s ready.” jay pulled his fingers out of your hole. “try and be a little gentle.” he told sunghoon , but the way the boy slapped your ass ; you could tell he was gonna be anything but that. “such a nice fucking ass.” he growled watching it jiggle. “pussy so wet , you’re fucking dripping like a little whore.” you moaned , pulling off of jakes cock with a pop , jerking him off. “are you gonna put it in or are you gonna stand there and slap my ass all night.” you teased , rubbing your ass back on his cock. “fuck.” he groaned , pushing himself right inside you ; you moaned out , taking jake back into your mouth.

“fucking slut just letting me in like that.” sunghoon dug his finger into the flesh of your ass. “pussy was waiting for one of us to fill it.” he moved his hips ; you tried to moan , but your mouth was occupied by jake bucking up into your mouth , the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. “ fuck fuck!” he cursed. “fuck im gonna cum.” jake pushed your head all the way down , his cock twitching as his cum shot from his tip into your throat. “ah fuck , fucking shit!” jake cursed , as you released your mouth. “shit that felt good.” he sighed , throwing his head back , your head was pushed against the couch cushions as sunghoon plowed you from the back.

“ah shit , slutty pussy got wet just from him cumming down your throat.” sunghoon thrusted deep inside you. “fucking nasty slut.” jay stood up from his seat. “pull out.” he said , sunghoon pulled out leaving you wanting more. “you gonna take us both princess , you cool with that?” jay said , you smiled , nodding as you climbed into his lap , your back against his chest. “used to taking more than one cock?” sunghoon said. “don’t think you’ll live up to it?” you bit back , he smirked. “bet.”

“both of you calm down.” you moaned as jay rubbed his cock along your folds , your head dropping back against his shoulder. “both of you are gonna get what you want.” he pushed himself inside you , filling bottoming out. “oh fuck that’s princess , let’s open you up for sunghoons cock.” his fingers coming to your folds pulling your pussy lips apart already being split by his cock. “don’t worry bro she can handle it.” jay said , sunghoon smirked , rubbing his cock along your folds. “not like she had much a choice anyway.”

sunghoon pushed himself inside you ; stretching you open along with jay. “ah fuck!” you screamed as they both moved the same time. “fuck fuck.” both of them moving , one in and one out; you were never not filled , both of them fucking you ; and then jake wasn’t done , coming back over to , slapped his cock on your boobs , rubbing his tip along your nipples. “mmh fuck , such pretty tits.” you tilt your head , taking his tip into your mouth. “fuck.” jay moaned out. “guess she wants her mouth full again.”

you nodded moaning as you bring him back into you mouth. jays hand came up to your boobs, squeezing them as he bucked up into you. “don’t cum.” he whispered in your ear. “you cum when it’s just me and you.” you moaned , nodding. “fuck , im gonna cum.” sunghoon said , pulling out jerking his cock off. “fuck.”

jake also pulled out , his tip pressed against your cheek as he stroked his cock. “down on your knees baby you’re gonna take all of our cum.” you stood up , legs wobbly as get down on your knees , letting them all circle around you jerking off , they all groaned as they came at different times , covering your face with their loads. “look at the slut.” sunghoon said , squeezing his length , milking himself. “covered in cum.” jay looked down at you , bringing his hand up to your cheek , pushing his thumb into your mouth. “good girl.”

jay covered you in his jacket ; letting you lay there while he handled business with them outside. “i really do fucking understand you.” jake said. “i wouldn’t mind taking her home for a few nights too.” jay shook his head. “what she does when i don’t see her is not my business.”

“just know she will always end up back in my bed , spending my dime.”

©️LUVYENI

#enhypen smut #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #jay park hard hours #jay park x reader #jay park smut #jay x reader #jake sim hard thoughts #jake sim hard hours #jake sim smut #jake sim fic #jake sim fanfic #park sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon hard thoughts #park sunghoon hard hours #park sunghoon smut

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b1eedthefreak · 2 months ago

Note

hi!!! idk if you'd be interested in this idea, but i think it'd be funny daryl dating the reader but that doesn't stop other ladies from shooting their shot. i was thinking prison era, but whatever floats your boat, but like daryl genuinely doesn't understand how people don't get that he's in a relationship with literally the most amazing woman in existence?? but it gets funnier because these women actually don't know because publicly his declarations of affection just aren't that obvious but to daryl and reader his actions may as well be him screaming how in love he is. idk where i'm going with this but i hope you see the vision. 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. Taken Man

⌇daryl dixon x reader

⌇summary: the women at the prison can’t seem to get the hint daryl is already a taken man and keep flirting with him, he’s sick and tired

⌇warnings: none

⌇word count: ~4.3k

a/n this request was so fun to write! i hope this was what you were expecting!

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❀ ⋆｡˚ ˚｡⋆❀

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sun had set at the prison. The sounds of footsteps echoed off the concrete walls as Daryl made his way through the yard, balancing a stack of boxes filled with fruit. He’d volunteered to help out with the food distribution again, knowing it would give him something to do that didn’t involve constant nagging from people.

But, of course, peace was fleeting when you had a guy like Daryl Dixon, charming in his own gruff way, walking around.

As he moved, he felt something, someone, approach from behind. The first touch was unmistakable, a hand on his bicep. Daryl froze, a look of confusion passing over his face.

“Wow, Daryl,” the voice came from behind him. “You’re so big and strong. We’re so lucky to have you around.”

Daryl didn’t even look back, his face scrunching as if he didn’t know whether to be flattered or uncomfortable. “Uh… yeah. Thanks.”

He could practically hear the woman grin behind him, but he wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Still, he didn’t move, just kept carrying the boxes toward the makeshift food line. The woman’s touch lingered for a moment, squeezing his arm in a way that made him want to shrug her off, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to do that without coming off rude.

Daryl was trying to move along with his load, but the woman let go. The awkwardness was thick in the air, but Daryl continued forward, shaking his head and wondering why he couldn’t just be left alone. You already have the most amazing woman in existence, he reminded himself. Why can’t they get the hint?

Later that day, as Daryl sat down at the metal table, sharpening his knife, he thought he was in the clear. He was focused on the blade in front of him, the rhythmic scraping of the sharpening stone a moment of rare peace. But that peace didn’t last very long.

He heard footsteps approach, followed by the unmistakable voice of another woman. “Oh, Daryl,” she cooed, leaning on the table beside him. “Mind if I keep you company while you work?”

Daryl looked up briefly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m good here,” he grumbled, his tone flat. He had no desire for company. Especially not from someone who couldn’t seem to see the obvious.

“Oh, come on,” she persisted. “Just a little chat won’t hurt.”

He wasn’t really paying attention anymore, just focused on sharpening his blade. His patience was wearing thin, and it was starting to show in his silence. But this lady was persistent.

Finally, she leaned over, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Daryl,” she said softly, “I just wanted to tell you how much we all appreciate you. You’re really something special.”

He let out a low sigh, gripping the handle of his knife a little too tightly. “‘Preciate it,” he muttered, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from something that didn’t involve her sitting next to him.

Just as she started to say something else, he cut her off, his voice a little firmer. “Listen, I got work to do.”

With that, she finally took the hint, stepping back. Daryl didn’t even watch her walk away. He just let out a frustrated breath, muttering to himselfz

Then, later that evening, when dinner was being served, he found himself walking into the mess hall, trying to find a quiet corner. But of course, someone else had other plans.

He was just about to sit down when another woman came up to him. “Hey, Daryl,” she said, her voice sweet. “You look like you could use some company.”

Daryl turned slowly, his face scrunching up in disgust. Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Nah, I’m good,” he grumbled.

But she wasn’t taking no for an answer. “C’mon, you’re always so quiet during dinner. You should let me keep you company!”

Daryl’s face twisted further into a frown. He couldn’t believe this was happening again. He grabbed his plate, shoved his food onto it with more force than necessary, and turned to leave.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna go eat by myself,” he muttered under his breath, clearly annoyed. “I gotta keep watch anyway.”

The woman was left standing there, flabbergasted, but Daryl didn’t care. He made his way toward Cell Block A, where he found a quiet spot, a corner where no one would bother him, and set his food down to eat in peace.

He grumbled to himself as he dug into his meal, shoveling food into his mouth like he was starving. Why can’t they just leave me alone? He didn’t understand it. He was already taken. So why were these women still coming at him like he was some sort of prize?

As he chewed his food, Carol entered, her brow furrowing slightly when she spotted him sitting alone, looking like he was about to burst from frustration.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, sitting down next to him.

Daryl glanced at her, his face scrunched up in a way that screamed pure exasperation. “These damn people won’t leave me alone.”

Carol raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her seat. “What do you mean?”

Daryl put down his fork for a moment, mimicking a high pitched voice, hands on his head as if he was imitating the women who’d been bothering him. “Oh, Daryl, let me stay with you… Ooooh, Daryl, Daryl, Daryl!” He exaggerated his words and shook his hair. “I don’t get it, Carol! I have a beautiful girlfriend! We’re obviously together!”

Carol snorted, holding back a laugh. “I wouldn’t say it’s all that obvious, Daryl.”

He blinked, completely thrown. “How the hell not? I gave her a sharpened knife! A sharpened freakin’ knife! And I brought her a rabbit to eat!” He was so frustrated, his hands throwing gestures into the air like he was giving some sort of declaration of war speech. “What the hell else do they need to see?”

Carol couldn’t hold it in anymore. She started laughing so hard she had to clutch her stomach. Daryl watched her, his frown deepening, and he shook his head. “What’s so funny? I’m serious!”

“Okay, okay,” Carol gasped, wiping away a tear. “It’s not exactly obvious to everyone. You’re not walking around with a neon sign that says ‘I’m taken.’”

Daryl looked horrified by the suggestion. “What the hell do you mean? I even—“

“You gave her a rabbit, Daryl,” Carol interrupted before he could continue, holding up her hands to stop him. “That’s not exactly common behavior for a guy who’s not into her. You don’t just bring women rabbits.”

At that moment, you walked into the cell block, out of breath and clearly on the search for him.

“Hey, where’s Daryl?” you called out, looking around for him. You finally spotted him sitting next to Carol, and a smile tugged at your lips as you approached them.

Daryl didn’t see you yet, too caught up in his frustration. “These damn women keep gettin’ in my face! I don’t know how much clearer I can make it!” He slammed his fist down onto the table. “What the hell do I need to do?! Start wearin’ a damn shirt that says ‘I’m a taken man’?”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing as you approached them. Carol was cackling beside him, holding her stomach. The two of them looked at you in surprise, but Carol was clearly enjoying the show.

“I take it things are going well?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Daryl groaned, looking like he was about to lose it. “They won’t leave me alone, and it’s makin’ me lose my mind!”

You sat down next to him, placing a hand on his arm, trying to stifle your laughter. “Daryl, baby… it’s not that obvious to people.”

His face was so deadpan as he groaned, “What the hell do you mean? I gave you a damn rabbit!”

“Yeah,” you said, holding in a grin, “but some people don’t know our signs.”

Carol just about lost it again at Daryl’s expense, her laughter echoing through the room.

Daryl slouched, finally realizing the hilarious truth. “I’m gonna need a damn neon sign next time.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❀ ⋆｡˚ ˚｡⋆❀

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixion x reader #norman reedus smut #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon twd

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lives-in-midgard · 11 months ago

Text

You Are In Love

Pairing: Evan Buckley x reader

Summary: When you're out with your friends you meet a handsome firefighter. After a while you go on a date and decide to keep your relationship a secret until something happens.

Word Count: 1200

A/N: Hey. This is part of the Buddie-August challenge. This also includes some characters from the Rookie. I hope you like it!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Buddie-August hosted by me and @buckys-wintersoldier

Prompt: Kisses

911 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

After a long shift at work one of your colleagues had the idea to go to a bar. You don’t often go to bars with all of them, but today you all finally had time. A lot has changed for you since you started working as a police officer at the Mid-Wilshire Station. You found a lot of friends there and you love your job.

“I’m gonna get a drink, would any of you like one too?” You asked the others.

“Could you get me another one of these.” Lucy said, pointing at her drink and you nodded.

“What about you Tim?”

“I’m good, thanks.” He said, smiling at you. When the others said they didn’t need anything, you made your way over to the bar. While you were waiting in line for drinks, a cute guy stood next to you and waited as well. Somehow he looked familiar to you, but you weren’t sure where you had seen him before. He smiled at you and then you suddenly remembered him. You could never forget that smile.

“You’re firefighter Buckley, right?” You asked and he chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s me. Wait and you are officer L/n.”

“You can call me y/n.” You said with a smile.

“Only if you call me Buck because that’s what everyone calls me.”

“Okay, deal.” You said and he had that sweet smile again. You talked for a few more minutes until your drinks were ready.

“See you around, Buck.”

“See you and be safe.” He said and watched as you walked back to your table. You handed Lucy her drink and sat down next to Tim again.

“Who was this guy?” Tim asked curious.

“Oh, just a friend.” You answered and Tim nodded. You and Tim have been friends and partners for a long time and over time he has become very protective over you. He always knows when something is wrong and is there for you as best as he can.

The next day you kept thinking about your meeting with Buck. He was so sweet and you hope to see him again. You didn’t think you’d see him again soon because just when you had an emergency call and had to call the ambulance, it was the 118 that showed up. You couldn’t really talk to him, but it was great to see each other again.

When you were grocery shopping and walking through the halls someone said your name and when you turned around you saw that it was Buck.

“Hey Buck.” You greeted him with a smile.

“Hey, good to see you.”

“I was wondering if you would like to have a coffee with me sometime?” He suddenly asked.

“Yeah, sure. How about I give you my phone number.” He nodded and pulled out his phone. You tipped in your number and he called you, so you had his number too.

Two days passed until you got a message from Buck. He asked if you were free tomorrow and you agreed to meet after work. At work Tim noticed that you were different, happier and more excited. He didn’t ask you about it, but it made him happy to see you happy.

The coffee date with Buck went very well. You talked about everything that came to your mind. You both really enjoyed it and had a great time. He asked you out on a date and that date turned into another date and suddenly you were in a happy relationship.

You had been dating for about three months now. Usually you were at his house or yours or sometimes you were going out. Favorite things to do together include cooking, watching movies, going to the beach and you enjoying it when he tells you a story from work and then you tell him some stories too. You’re very happy together and try to spend as much time together as possible, even if it can be a bit difficult due to your work shifts. Some people don’t think a relationship between a police officer and a firefighter is a good idea, so you decided to keep the relationship a secret for a while, which wasn’t always easy especially if you would see him on a call.

Today you have been called into a very difficult situation. You called for backup, but things quickly escalated, and you injured your left arm. Luckily, Officer Harper, Officer Nolan and Officer Bradford arrived at the right time to arrest the person. While Harper and Nolan arrested the person, Tim ran over to you and called an ambulance.

“Tim, I’m aright, it’s just a small scratch.”

“Let’s wait and see what the medics say, okay?” Tim said and put some pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. A few minutes later you could already hear the ambulance driving near you. When the doors opened you could see that it was Buck. As soon as he saw you, he ran towards you.

“Babe, are you okay? What happened?” He asked, looking at your arm. When you looked over, you saw that Tim had a confused look on his face.

“I’m okay, it’s just a small scratch.” You said again.

“Let’s go to the truck and I’ll take a look at it.” Buck said, placed his hand on your back and guided you to the truck. Then he removed the cloth from your wound and gently tried to stop the bleeding. You took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, babe.” He looked into your eyes and tried to smile at you. Then he looked back at the wound.

“The cut isn’t too deep, so it’s okay if I just bandage it.” He said and you nodded. Buck gently put the bandage over your wound and then gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, honey.”

“Anytime.” He said, then Buck tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and gently pulled you into a passionate kiss. When you broke the kiss, you reached for his hand and smiled at each other.

“I have to go back to work.” You said after a few seconds, even though you didn’t want to say goodbye.

“Me too.” He said, looking over his shoulder to see his friends looking at you both with smiles.

“I guess they all know now.”

“They definitely do.” You said with chuckle. You noticed how happy they all were and then looked over at Tim who was as happy as they were.

“I think I have to go now. See you later.” Buck said and gave you a quick hug.

“See you.” You said, waving at him as you walked away. As you walked to your car, Tim was still standing next to yours and looked at you with a grin.

“Now I know why you’ve been so happy lately.”

“Yeah, Buck makes me really happy.” You confirmed and opened the car door.

You were glad that Tim and Buck’s colleagues now found out about your relationship, but you definitely want to meet them soon on a better occasion. Buck has told you a lot about them, so you’re very excited to meet them.

Taglist:

@cevansbaby-dove | @buckys-wintersoldier

@beaubbdoll

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norrisainz33 · 2 months ago

Text

pr || ls18

summary: fans are convinced lance and his victoria secret model gf are just a pr stunt but they’re actually just two best friends in love

pairing: lance stroll x model!reader

fc & warnings: barbara palvin x some hate comments

requested: yes!! thank you for your patience!

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7, and 10,334 others

f1gossip: looks like our very own lance stroll has been spotted with a mystery woman out in montreal ahead of the grand prix this weekend. this is not the first time these two have been spotted together either… perhaps they’re getting a bit more serious and we’ll see her this sunday? if anyone recognizes her, let us know!

view all comments

user1: nauuurrrrr lance that was supposed to be me

user2: we lost another one to a model chat

user3: you mean to tell me you lot don’t recognize the vs angel ynuser when you see her?!

user2: mate all we’ve seen is blurry pics of her hair

user3: she’s got recognizable hair!!!

f1gossip: timelines seem to line up with her posts and where we’ve seen her and lance together! i think you cracked the code user3

user4: it’s giving pr stunt bc how did he manage to get a vs model….

user7: no fr!! either that or she’s with him for daddy’s money

user8: yes this has pr written allllll over it

user5: i hope we DONT see her sunday

ynuser has made a post

liked by yourbff, miumiu, iamrebeccad, victoriassecret, vspink, lance_stroll, flavy.barla, yoursibling and 200,235 others

ynuser: montreal i think i might love you

view all comments

yourbff: holy moly i’m obsessed

user3: mother is mothering (also i called this)

lance_stroll: nice flowers

ynuser: thanks! the person who got them for me is even nicer

f1gossip: 👀

user4: what sorta pr nonsense interaction is this

user12: oooo you’re so effortlessly gorgeous

flavy.barla: 😍 wow!

ynuser: 😘

f1gossip: 👀 x2

user18: i can give you flowers too ya know

lance_stroll has made a post

liked by astonmartinf1, estebanocon, ynuser, chloestroll, robertomerhi, scottyjames31 and 234,456 others

lance_stroll: thankful for the two weeks at home! always great to see the crowd out here in montreal. merci beaucoup canada- on to austria we go 🤍🇨🇦

view all comments

user1: holy heck you are so fine

user2: maple syrup making the dump is sending me

astonmartinf1: maple syrup ✔️ refreshing time at home ✔️ ready to get some points in austria ✔️

ynuser: face so pretty they should be putting YOU on magazine covers

lance_stroll: 🤭 oh stop! we both know you’re the only one fit for magazines and runways

user4: ohh look pr getting even more interactive i see

user11: you look so good in am green

estebanocon: 💪🏻 great weekend mate! thanks for taking me and flavy around canada

lance_stroll: of course mon ami! we love spending time with you guys 🤍

user3: WE?! who is WE

user22: cutie patootie

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7, and 11,344 others

f1gossip: in a recent interview where model, y/n y/l/n, talks through the upcoming vs fashion show she was also asked if there was anyone special who would be in attendance…. she blushed and said: “my partner is going to be there! he has yet to come to any of my shows so i’m really excited that it finally works with his schedule!” we can only assume she’s talking about a certain f1 driver 🤔

view all comments

user1: wow how did i not realize how stunning she is

user8: how long do you think we have to put up with this fake relationship

user4: it’s already been way longer than i would have wanted

user3: if it’s pr why are both of them being so secretive? can’t 2 people just be happy? like leave them be

user3: omg lance at the vs show?!?!?!? ain’t no way i can’t WAIT to see him there

user33: f1 driver try not to date a model challenge failed

user4: at least she’s a real model 😭

user12: you lot are miserable in these comments fr. i don’t follow f1 but my girl was mentioned and i do NOT like how yall talking abt her.

user18: welcome to being a lance stan. we live in the trenches but we all love y/n here!! it’s the other fans who are annoying

user12: whelp…. seems i will be going to war for lance

ynuser has posted to their story

view all story replies

user1: this is hot wtf

yourbff: oh!

ynuser: 🤭

yourbff: he got any single friends so i can get this sorta treatment too or.......

ynuser: HAHA i'll ask

user18: a tear just ran down my ….. nvm i’ll keep that one to myself

yoursibling: princess can’t walk on her own?

ynuser: these shoes hurt my feet

yoursibling: of course they do hahahah well im glad hes coming in handy

ynuser: lance is simply the best

user55: just disappointed this ain’t me fr

lance_stroll: i love you baby girl

ynuser: i love you too sweet boy

lance_stroll: you promise?

ynuser: what? of course i do!!

lance_stroll: i've been reading too many of the comment on our posts :(

ynuser: ohhh baby don't do that!! no one knows what our relationship is like besides us and i love you more than words could ever express

lance_stroll: i know its just easier said than done to ignore it sometimes

ynuser: i get it baby i really do and i'm sorry. people will always have an opinion an we can't change that but don't ever doubt just how much i love you 🤍

user16: glad whoever this is is treating you like the queen you are

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7, and 15,674 others

f1gossip: and just like that! it's official. lance has arrived to the victoria's secret fashion show red carpet alongside the gorgeous vs angel, y/n y/l/n.

view all comments

user18: the video of them arriving might be the happiest we’ve seen lance look in like years

user22: this makes my heart so happy

user8: fake fake fake

user12: adopting him and starting to watch f1 was the best decision i made man look at my mom and dad

user18: the strookies are so glad to have you 💚

user4: contracts gotta be almost up after this!!

user3: this is jobless behavior user4

user88: wow she looks incredible and honestly this is one of his best outfits in a while. gf effect is real

lance_stroll has added to his story

view all story replies

chloestroll: how in the world does she always look so perfect

lance_stroll: i ask myself that every day. shes truly beautiful inside and out

chloestroll: my baby brothers in love ❤️‍🔥🥰

lance_stroll: as the kids would say, i'm down bad

user18: hold on is she wrapping your hugo boss jumper around her legs in the second slide!? brb crying

ynuser: thank you for being here! these shows make me so nervous

lance_stroll: there is no place i'd rather be!

flavy.barla: CUTIES!!! did you make sure she got the flowers from este and i?

lance_stroll: of course i did! she cried real tears and said she was going to call you after the show 😘

user8: you and your pr fling ❤️

astonmartinf1: the couple of the century holy moly

lance_stroll: 😉

user12: you better close your eyes every time another model walks by that isnt our queen

ynuser has made a post

liked by lance_stroll, yourbff, astonmartinf1, zendaya, victoriassecret, adrianalima, yoursibling and 324,220 others

ynuser: another vs fashion show in the books! thank you to everyone who made this possible - to the team of incredible stylists, to vs, to my friends for supporting me through this journey and to my darling lance who is always my biggest cheerleader and never says no to milkshakes at midnight. see you same time next year 🤍

view all comments

chloestroll: my favorite angel

ynuser: my favorite stroll 🤍

lance_stroll: hello??????

chloestroll: lance look away this is a private convo

lance_stroll: yeah i’ll be having private convos with you both 😘

ynuser: god forbid the girlies are besties 😔

user12: the milkshake photo im sobbing 😭

lance_stroll: i love being your cheerleader 😘

ynuser: and i love being yours my handsome man 🤍

user24: i’ve never seen someone so gorgeous

flavy.barla: wish este and i could have been there! so proud of you beautiful 😍

ynuser: thank you!!! i can’t wait to see you in cannes 😘

user18: only watched that show for you and god was it worth it

yourbff: IM SO PROUD OF YOU

ynuser: THANK YOU

user27: this is my version of the royal couple

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

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sillylilsquid · 2 months ago

Text

better with a girl

pairing - hyun-ju x reader summary - it started with a match on a dating app and the belief that you were straight. but hyun-ju—with her soft hands, patient smile, and every kiss that left you needing more—teaches you what it really means to want. warnings - au!hyun-ju, no squid game, afab!reader, sexuality exploration, explicit sexual content, 18+, minors dni!! 9.7k words - your text is bold, hyunnie's is italics!

Honestly, you weren’t looking for anything serious.

Not after the last guy cheated on you with someone from his gym–and the one before that who ghosted you after you told him you like to cook for the people you love, like it was some kind of red flag. You weren’t bitter exactly. Just…tired.

Tired of being the one who cared. Tired of begging for affection like it was some kind of reward. Tired of holding your breath around people who never really saw you.

So, no. You weren’t looking for anything. And definitely not anyone. But your friends wouldn’t let it go.

“You’re too wound tight,” one of them told you over drinks. “You need to get laid, babe. Or fall in love. Preferably both.”

“You say that like they’re easy to find,” you muttered, half into your wine glass.

“You’re not even trying. When’s the last night you went on a date?”

You didn’t answer.

So a week later, tipsy and half daring yourself, you downloaded the app.

You hesitated when it asked about your preferences. Men. Women. Both.

You hovered over ‘men’ like always. But then your thumb slid over to ‘both.’ Just for balance, you told yourself. Just in case. You weren’t gay or anything. You were just…curious. And exhausted. And maybe a little too bored.

The app was chaos. A blur of overly filtered selfies and bio quotes like “CEO of making you smile” and “looking for my player 2.”

Her pictures weren’t trying too hard. One of her at a bookstore with glasses on, one lounging on a couch in a leather jacket and bare-faced confidence. Her profile said: “Better in person. Or worse, depending on your taste.”

You swiped right before you could overthink it.

And then–match. Your stomach dropped a little. And then she messaged you first.

so you’re the one with the pretty eyes and nervous smile?

You read it five times before you replied.

pretty bold opening line

i’m just observant. bold would’ve been asking if you taste as sweet as you look.

Your breath caught, your pulse picking up.

(kidding. mostly)

you can tell me to chill and i will

i don’t want you to chill. just maybe…don’t go full chaos on the first message?

deal. half chaos. full charm 😉

you always this hesitant or am i just special?

maybe both.

i’ve never really talked to…a girl on here before.

There was a pause before she replied. Not long. Just enough to make you worry she’d vanished.

hey, that’s okay.

no pressure. no expectations. i’m just here to get to know you.

unless you want pressure. but like, the fun kind

lol.

are you always like this?

a little.

but i’m also respectful, attentive, and excellent at ordering takeout.

if you ever wanted to find out.

You hesitate before replying. Your stomach already in knots and you couldn’t stop smiling.

i mean…coffee might be safer than takeout. for now.

for now🤭

send me your schedule. i’ll pick the spot. first date’s on me

first date?

you think i’m this charming just for small talk?

You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. It was just coffee. Just a date. Just…with a girl.

A really pretty girl with perfect eyeliner and flirty texts and a voice you could practically hear through the screen. But still. Just a date.

Nothing worth getting nervous over.

You stood in the mirror, staring at the mess of clothes scattered on your bed, muttering to yourself like a lunatic. “Why are you freaking out? She’s just a girl.”

You tugged off your third shirt and grabbed another. “She’s a girl, not a rockstar.”

But your hands were shaking. And your heart was pounding. And the lipstick you picked–soft, not too bold, not too try hard–was already smudged from the way you kept pressing your lips together.

You reapplied it, again. And stared at yourself. “She’s just a girl,” you repeated, whispering this time. “You’re straight.”

But the way your stomach twisted said otherwise.

The coffee shop was one of those cozy, indie spots tucked on a quiet street–exposed brick walls, hanging plants, and warm lighting. You spotted Hyun-ju immediately.

She was already sitting by the window, one leg crossed over the other, black turtleneck, jacket slung over the back of her chair. Her hair was pinned back loosely, a few strands falling to frame her face.

She looked up just as you stepped in–and smiled. And your brain short circuited. She stood as you approached, standing much taller than you thought she’d be, and you hated how much your pulse jumped when she reached out and touched your arm gently, just a soft brush of her fingers.

“Hey,” she said, voice like honey. “You look good.”

You laughed, breathless. “Thanks. You too.”

“You nervous?”

“Terrified.”

She grinned. “Good. Me too.”

The date was easy. Infuriatingly so.

She made you laugh. She asked questions and actually listened to the answers. She tilted her head when she talked, smiled at you like you were the only person in the room, and touched your hand once–just to make a point about something dumb–but it lingered. Just a little too long.

And when it was over, and you both stepped outside, the sky soft and fading into gold, she looked at you like she was deciding whether to kiss you.

She didn’t.

She just walked you to your car, winked, and said, “Text me when you get home safe, yeah?”

You nodded. You couldn’t stop smiling the whole way home.

Your phone buzzed ten minutes later.

so… that was better than a date with a guy, huh?😉

Your heart plummeted. Because it was.

You didn’t tell your friends much. Just that you went on a date. Just that it was…nice. You dodged every follow up question like your life depended on it.

“Who was it?” “No one you know.”

“What’s he do?” “He’s–uh. They. Work in creative stuff.”

“Are you seeing him again?” “Maybe.”

They knew you were hiding something, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud. Not yet. You weren’t ready to open that box. Because once you did, it was real. And it already felt too real.

Hyun-ju didn’t text you all day the next day. Not in a mean way. Just gave you space. It made you restless. Until, just before bed, your phone buzzed.

you didn’t forget about me already, did you?

Attached was a mirror selfie–no makeup, oversized tee, hair tied back, and still somehow so beautiful it made your stomach flip. You stared at it way too long before answering.

not yet. you checking in on your competition?

nah. i just wanted to be the face in your head before you fell asleep😇

You didn’t answer that one. But you stared at the photo again before bed. And again when you woke up.

The texting got easier after that. Casual. Fun. But there were moments where her charm slipped into something sharper–playful, but deliberate.

what are you doing friday?

nothing. why?

you’re coming to dinner with me. i want to see how you look in candlelight.

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

you always this smooth?

no. just with you.

Friday comes faster than you expect.

You spend over an hour getting ready, yelling at your closet, changing your outfit over and over again and regretting every choice.

When you arrive at the restaurant, she’s already there. It’s upscale, the kind of place you need a reservation for. The kind where soft jazz hums under the clatter of silverware.

And fuck. She’s wearing a sleek dark blouse tucked into tailored trousers, gold rings on her fingers, and just a touch of mascara. Her hair is down, brushing elegantly over her shoulders.

She stands when you approach. Her eyes trail over you slowly. “Wow,” she says, soft and sincere. “You’re stunning.”

You don’t know what to say, so you laugh, awkward and shy. “You clean up okay too.”

She grins. “Flattery and a compliment? Careful, you’ll make me fall for you.”

You sit across from her, trying to slow your heartbeat. She pours you a glass of wine. Her fingers brush yours.

And as the night unfolds, between courses and soft laughter and the brush of her knee against yours under the table, that voice inside you starts whispering again.

You’re not into women, right?

Then why can’t you stop looking at her mouth? Why do you keep leaning in when she speaks? Why do you want her to reach for your hand and not let go?

You reached for the check the second the waiter dropped it off. “I’ve got it,” you said quickly, already pulling out your card.

But Hyun-ju was faster. She slid the black booklet toward her without even glancing down. “Nope.”

You blinked. “What? Why not?”

“Because I asked you out,” she said simply, pulling her wallet from her coat. “And because I want to.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t–”

“Don’t make me fight you over this in front of everyone,” she warned, but her tone was playful. Her eyes sparkled as she handed over her card.

You sat back in your seat, flustered. “You’re very stubborn.”

She smirked. “And you’re very cute when you’re trying to be polite.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. So you said nothing. Just stared at your wine glass while your pulse thundered in your ears.

The walk back to your car was quiet–but not awkward. The kind of quiet that buzzes with unspoken things.

You walked side by side down the cobbled sidewalk, streetlights washing the pavement in pale gold. Her hand brushes yours once. Then again. You didn’t pull away.

When you reached your car, you hesitated with your keys in hand. She leaned against the door, watching you. “Well?” she said softly. “Was I worth dressing up for?”

You laughed, breathless. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Do I need to convince you?”

You didn’t back away–but your chest was tight and your stomach was tangled in knots.

Hyun-ju leaned in, slow and deliberate, her lips just inches from yours. And then…she stopped. Her breath was warm against your cheek, her voice a murmur. “I want to kiss you.”

Your mouth parted. You couldn’t speak. “But I won’t,” she spoke softer now. “Not until you want me to.”

You felt your heart split clean down the middle. Because part of you was begging for her to do it. And part of you still didn’t know who you were if you let her.

She stepped back. “Drive safe, pretty girl,” she murmured, and turned to walk away.

You sat in your car for ten minutes before starting it, heart pounding, throat thigh, and eyes burning. Because you wanted her. And you didn’t know what that made you.

You lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The room was dark, quiet–except for the loud, humiliating echo of your thoughts.

You hadn’t even kissed her. And yet here you were, chest tight, legs tangled in your sheets, your mouth still tingling from the ghost of a kiss that never happened.

You groaned and rolled over, unlocking your phone.

Twitter: no.

Instagram: worse.

Messages: 3 unread. None from her.

Google:...maybe

You opened the browser. Then, with a subtle grace of a woman having a minor identity crisis, you typed: “am i gay if i like one girl”

Delete. Too desperate.

“signs you’re into women”

Delete. Too obvious.

“can straight girls like girls sometime”

You stared at the screen, jaw clenched, heart racing. Then you opened Notes and started typing to yourself, because texting your friends would mean explaining, and you weren’t ready for that.

okay but it’s not like i want to marry her or anything.

i just like her smile

and her voice

and her hands

and the way she looks at me

and the way she almost kissed me

okay

maybe it’s something

maybe i like her

maybe i want her to kiss me

fuck

You slammed your phone face down and groaned into your pillow. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But all you could think about was her voice in your ear, her mouth inches from yours, saying: “Not until you want me to.”

And the worst part? You already did.

The next morning, you were trying to act normal. Just a little grocery shopping. Laundry. Scrolling aimlessly on your phone and definitely not thinking about almost being kissed again in your car.

That’s when she texted.

morning💪

Attached: a gym mirror selfie. She was in a black sports bra and high waisted leggings, headphones around her neck, a smirk tugging at her lips. Hair pulled into a mess pony. Skin glowing. Abs unfair.

You dropped your phone on your chest and let out a noise that can only be described as internal combustion.

you okay?

literally no

that bad, huh?

you’re annoying

and hot

stop this

😌

come over tonight. i’ll feed you and put on a movie. sweatpants encouraged

what are we watching?

something gay. obviosuly.

😐

bring wine or your nervous energy. whichever is easier to carry

You showed up two hours later with both.

Hyun-ju opened the door in a t-shirt and sweatpants, glasses on, makeup free and still somehow hotter than anyone had a right to be.

Her place was warm and inviting–soft lighting, a lived-in couch, scented candles burning something vanilla and cozy. You sat side by side under a throw blanket, legs touching. She let you pick the movie.

Twenty minutes later, you weren’t even watching it.

You were hyper aware of her every breath. Every time her hand moved. Every shift of her thigh against yours. And when she leaned over to grab the remote from the coffee table, her body brushing yours–

“I don’t know how to do it,” you blurted out.

She paused. “Do what?”

“I mean–any of it. With a woman. Like…” You stared at the screen, horrified at yourself but too far gone now. “Kissing. Touching. Sex. I don’t know how to have sex with a woman. I don’t even know what that looks like. Is it, like–scissoring? Is that even real? And what if I mess it up? What if you want me to touch you and I just, like, poke something wrong and kill the vibe?”

You finally turned to look at her. She was just sitting there. Silent and smiling. Her chin in her hand. Eyes soft and so amused.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

She tilted her head. “Because I’ve never seen anyone talk themselves into a meltdown this adorably before.”

You groaned, burning your face in the blanket. “I’m gonna die.”

“No you’re not.”

I might! I’m a straight girl who got wine drunk and accidently fell into a queer panic spiral in your living room.”

“Baby,” she murmured, reaching out to gently tug the blanket down and uncover your face. “You’re not straight.” You blinked up at her, lips parted. She smiled–soft and certain. “But you’re very cute when you’re trying to fight it.”

You’re still half under the blanket, your face burning, staring at Hyun-ju like she’d just uncovered every secret you’d been hiding.

She hadn’t stopped smiling. Her eyes glittered with something between affection and straight up amusement.

“I’m serious,” you muttered, barely able to hold eye contact. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know what it looks like. I’ve only ever—like, watched–guy stuff.”

Hyun-ju leaned back on the couch, one arm slung lazily over the cushion behind your shoulders. “You know there’s porn, right?”

Your entire body locked up. “I–what?”

“There’s porn. Lesbian porn. Gay porn. Real stuff, ethical stuff. It’s pretty easy to find.”

“I’m not gonna watch porn just to figure out how to sleep with you!”

She raised a brow. “Is that what you’re worried about? Sleeping with me?”

“I didn’t mean–I’m not planning to–not like that–I don’t know what I meant–” You were spiraling. Full meltdown mode.

Hyun-ju let you go on for a few more seconds, just watching you with that infuriating calm like she was thoroughly enjoying this.

And then, gently, “Hey.”

You froze. She leaned in just a little closer, her voice low. “You don’t have to learn anything for me. I’m not expecting you to show up with a skill set.”

You blinked at her, breathing hard.

“I don’t care if you’ve never kissed a girl,” she said. “Or touched one. Or even thought about it before me.”

You stared. “But I have thought about it.”

“I know,” she said, smiling again. “That’s why you’re sitting on my couch, clutching a throw blanket and looking like your brain is on fire.”

You let out a noise between a laugh and a sob. “This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” she assured. “It’s honest. And kind of hot, if I’m being honest.”

You whipped your head toward her. “Hot?!”

“Baby,” she said, barely biting back a grin, “you rambling about how clueless and flustered you are? While blushing and squirming next to me like that?” She shrugged. “Kind of ridiculously hot.”

You let out a broken, strangled sound and buried your face again. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

You stayed hidden under the blanket, your voice muffled. “I can’t believe you said porn.”

She laughed–low, rich, teasing. “What? It’s educational!” You were still hiding under the blanket when Hyun-ju tilted her head and said, casual as ever, “We can watch some together, if you want.”

You froze. “What.”

She blinked. “Porn. You said you’ve never seen–”

“I know what you said,” you hissed, peeking out from behind the blanket with your entire face on fire. “And excuse me, I can watch porn by myself, thank you very much.”

Hyun-ju just smirked, like that was the answer she’d been hoping for. “I’m just saying,” she murmured, “sometimes it’s more fun to learn with supervision.”

You launched a throw pillow at her face.

You didn’t say much after that. You put on another movie. Something safe. Something very not gay.

But Hyun-ju kept brushing her fingers against yours under the blanket. And you kept pretending not to notice. And your brain kept looping back to what she’d said.

Porn. Together. Supervision.

You weren’t sleeping tonight.

Hours later, back in your own apartment, you lay on your stomach in bed, phone glowing too bright in the dark, anxiety buzzing in your fingertips.

You stared at the search bar. You typed slowly.

“lesbian sex real”

Delete. You weren’t a serial killer.

“lesbian porn”

Okay. You clicked one of the links. The first few thumbnails made your stomach twist. Not because it was gross–because it was…a lot.

But then you clicked on one that looked softer. Realer. Two women kissing slowly, their hands tentative and warm.

Your breath caught. You watched. They touched like they meant it. They kissed like they'd missed each other. You felt heat rush between your legs before you even realized it.

And then–one of them moaned. And it hit you. Sharp and low. You clamped your thighs together, heart pounding, and slammed your laptop shut. You laid there in the dark, breathless, your pulse racing, your whole body tingling.

“Holy shit.”

Because you liked it. You really, really liked it. And suddenly, it wasn’t just about Hyun-ju anymore.

It was a Saturday night, and your phone buzzed just as you were debating whether to eat dinner or cry under a blanket for the rest of the weekend.

going to a club with a friend. you should come

no pressure btw. just vibes

i don’t club

i don’t either. but i do wear tight clothes and look hot under colored lights.

and i think you’d enjoy that

You stared at the phone for a full minute. Then you threw on the best outfit you could pull together in under ten minutes.

The club wasn’t a packed, sweaty disaster like you’d feared. It was dark and moody and glowy–neon reds and blues painting every surface, bass pulsing low in your chest.

Hyun-ju spotted you at the door and waved you over. You nearly choked. She was in black slacks and a cropped mesh top layered over a strappy bralette, all gold jewelry and smoky eyes and smug smiles. Her nails were painted wine red, one hand around a soda glass, the other casually resting on her hip.

“I didn’t know what to wear,” you mumbled when she pulled you into a hug.

Her arms wrapped around your waist. “You wore this,” she murmured, eyes raking over you. “And that’s all I care about.”

You didn’t drink. Neither did she. But it didn’t matter. The music was loud, the lights were low, and her hand stayed on the small of your back whenever you moved. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. The video. The way those women had touched each other. The sounds. The want. And now Hyun-ju was right here–pressed close to your body, her breath warm against your ear every time she leaned in to talk.

You were sober. And still, you felt drunk.

It was almost 1am when the crowd thinned and the music dulled into background haze. You were standing beside her near the exit, blinking slowly, heart crawling up your neck form how close she was.

“You look tired,” she said softly, brushing a hair out of your face.

You nodded barely.

“You don’t have to Uber back, you know.”

You looked up. She shrugged one shoulder. “You can crash at my place. It’s closer. And I’ve got extra clothes.”

You swallowed. “Oh.”

“Unless you’d rather go home.”

“No,” you said quickly. “I mean–I can come over. That’s fine. If it’s okay.”

She smiled. “It’s more than okay.”

The car ride to her place was quiet. Her music low. Her hand rested casually on the gearshift, fingers tapping, rings glinting under the streetlights.

You stared out the window, but your brain wouldn’t shut up.

She’s so close. Her hands. That mouth. What would she sound like?

By the time she parked and let you inside, you were a silent, shaky mess. And the night was just beginning.

Like before, her apartment was warm and quiet, a contrast to the thumping bass still echoing faintly in your chest. She kicked her shoes off by the door and flicked on a lamp–low, amber light casting soft shadows across the room.

“Make yourself at home,” she said, tugging her jacket off and hanging it neatly. “You want water or anything?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m good.”

You stood awkwardly by the couch while she padded off to her bedroom, calling back, “I’ll grab you something to sleep in.”

Your heart was pounding. You stared at the record player tucked in the corner. The plant by the window. The jacket slung over the back of the armchair. It all smelled like her–clean and woodsy, warm and sharp.

She returned a moment later and handed you a fold shirt and some loose cotton shorts. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Take your time.”

You muttered a thanks and practically sprinted out of the room.

By the time you emerged, changed and clean faced, your nerves had officially gone nuclear.

Hyun-ju was sitting cross legged on the couch, scrolling through her phone, now in sleep shorts and a sweatshirt, her hair loose on her shoulders. She looked…unfairly good. Comfortable. Effortless.

You hesitated in the doorway. Her eyes flickered up, slow and soft. And then she smiled. “You look cute.”

You fiddled with the hem of the oversized shirt she gave you. “It’s literally yours.”

“Exactly.”

You crossed the room slowly and sat behind her, tucking your legs under you. She turned the TV on, scrolled half heartedly through the options.

Neither of you were really watching. Your arm brushed hers. You could feel the heat of her skin. Her thigh close to yours. The hum of tension that had been building since you walked through the door.

She glanced over. “You okay?”

You nodded too fast. “Yeah. just–tired. Long day. Loud music. You know. I’m not really a club person. You could probably tell. Not that I hated it. It was actually kind of fun. Mostly because you were there. Which I guess makes sense. Since I like being around you.”

You were spiraling again. Hyun-ju didn’t say anything.

You hesitated.

Your heart pounded in your throat. You looked at her mouth. Then back to the screen. Then to her eyes. And then you chickened out.

“Anyway,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket over your lap. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

She leaned her head back on the couch, still watching you. Her voice was teasingly low. “Was that supposed to be a kiss?”

Your eyes went wide. “What?! No!”

Her smile grew. “Are you sure?”

You flushed all the way to your ears. “I wasn’t–I mean, I thought maybe–but then I didn’t–I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Hyun-ju tilted her head, her voice softening. “Baby,” she said gently, “you don’t have to know what you’re doing. You just have to want it.”

You didn’t answer. But you didn’t move away either. You were frozen. Her words echoed in your chest: ‘you just have to want it.’ And god, you did.

You just didn’t know how to ask.

She shifted beside you, slow and smooth, like she was giving you time to back away. You didn’t. Her hand came up to your cheek, gentle and grounding. Her thumb brushed softly under your eye, then down to the curve of your jaw.

“You’ve kissed guys before, right?” she asked, voice low.

You nodded nervously. “Yeah.”

She smiled. “It’s the same idea…just way better when it’s another girl.”

Your breath caught. She leaned in slowly, her voice like velvet. “It’s not about technique. Or pressure. Or anything you’ve seen in movies.”

Her nose brushed yours, barely there contact that made your stomach twist. “It’s about attention,” she whispered. “Letting it build. Following what feels good.”

Her lips touched yours–just once. A soft press. A question. You exhaled like you’d been holding your breath for hours.

She kissed you again–slightly deeper now, slow and sure. Her lips warm. Soft. She let you feel the shape of her mouth, the gentle tug and press. No rush. No demand. “Just like that,” she whispered against your lips. “You’re doing perfect.”

You whimpered without meaning to. She pulled back just enough to look at you. “You okay?”

You nodded quickly. “Can I… can we do that again?”

That smile. That smile.

“I was hoping you’d ask.” And then she kissed you again–longer, guiding her lips with hers, her hand still cradling your cheek. You followed her lead–tentative, shy, but hungry. Your hands found her waist. She let out a soft hum of approval.

“There you go,” she murmured, lips brushing yours between words. “See? You’re already learning.”

She kissed you again–slightly deeper, a bit slower. “You’re a natural, baby,” she whispered.

You gasped softly, dizzy from praise, from the heart blooming in your chest. “I didn’t think–kissing a girl would feel like–”

Her fingers threaded gently through your hair. “Like that?”

“Like…this.”

Hyun-ju smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Like something you want to do again?” You nodded. “Good.” She kissed your jaw. “Because I’m not done showing you.”

You didn’t go any further that night. Just kissing. Soft, slow, and gentle. When it got too much–when your hands trembled or your breath caught in that panicky way–Hyun-ju pulled back, tucked your hair behind your ear, and whispered, “that’s enough for tonight, baby. You did so good.” And you melted.

A few days later, she picked you up in the late afternoon with a picnic basket and a blanket thrown in the back seat like it was nothing. “You’re so domestic,” you teased as she opened the passenger door for you.

She just smirked. “Only for girls who wear nervous smiles and make me drive across town for the good strawberries.”

She took you to a quiet park, a little hill shaded with trees, far enough from anyone else to feel like it was just the two of you.

You helped her lay out the blanket. She unpacked sandwiches, fruit, two glass bottles of soda, and a pack of cookies she’d clearly bought last minute.

You both sat down, sunlight streaking through the trees, laughter soft and easy between bites. And you couldn’t stop looking at her. The way her hair caught in the light. The stretch of her legs where she lounged beside you. The little smirk she gave you when she caught you staring and didn’t say a word.

Your stomach flipped. You’d been thinking about kissing her again for days. The memory of it was still warm in your chest–her mouth, her hands, the way she’d held you like you were something fragile and precious.

And now, sitting beside her on a blanket in the fading sun, you wanted it again. You ached for it. But you didn’t know how to say it. Instead you said, “This is nice.”

She glanced at you, one brow lifted softly. “Yeah?”

You nodded, heart in your throat. “I like spending time with you.”

Hyun-ju leaned back on one arm, eyes gentle. “I like spending time with you too.”

You hesitated. Then leaned over, just a little. Her gaze flickered to your mouth, then back to your eyes. She didn’t move. Didn’t rush you. “Can I kiss you?” you whispered.

And god, the way she looked at you then–like you’d just handed her the sun. “You don’t ever have to ask,” she said softly. “But I love it when you do.”

You leaned in, hands shaking just a little, and kissed her. Slow. Lingering. Sunlight on your skin, her fingers brushing your knee like a promise. And for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to explain yourself. You just felt.

That evening after the picnic, she brought you back to her place. You didn’t want to go home–not yet. Not when everything inside you was still buzzing. Not when the quiet between you felt so full.

You both curled up on her couch under a blanket, a random movie playing low in the background. You were tucked into her side, your head on her shoulder, her arm around you like it had always belonged there.

You didn’t speak for a while. But eventually, you whispered, “I still don’t know what I am.”

Hyun-ju didn’t flinch. Didn’t shift. Just kept stroking her fingers through your hair like your words didn’t scare you.

You swallowed hard. “I mean, I like you. I really like you. But I still get scared sometimes. Like, I think about kissing you and I get excited and nervous at the same time. I don’t know what that means. If I’m…gay. Or bi. Or just confused. I feel like I should know.”

Her hand paused for a second–just long enough for you to notice. Then it moved again. “You don’t have to label it right now,” she said quietly. “Or ever, if you don’t want to.”

You pressed your cheek into her chest, listening to the slow thud of her heartbeat.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” you whispered. “You’ve been so good to me.”

“You’re not going to mess anything up,” she murmured, her voice low and certain. “You’re allowed to be figuring things out.”

You blinked hard, your throat felt thick. “And what if I just…stay confused?”

Her hand slid under your chin, tilting your face up gently. Her eyes met yours–steady, warm, so full. “Then we stay confused together,” she said. “As long as you want me around.”

You let out a breath tha felt like a release. And she leaned in, kissing your forehead, and whispered: “I’m not going anywhere.”

A few weeks later things have changed, in soft, quiet ways.

You and hyun-ju were still texting every day–little things at first: good morning, good night, updates about your day. But somewhere along the way, your texts got…flirtier. Playful and teasing.

She started sending mirror selfies when she got dressed for work. You started sending emojis you wouldn’t have dared to use before. And sometimes, late at night, the conversation drifted into gentle, breathless places.

Still, nothing more than kissing. But everything building. One night you invited her over. Not because she offered. Not because she insisted. Because you wanted to.

you’ve never been to my place

you should come over sometime

tell me when, baby. i’ll be there

And just like that, she was.

You had tried to clean. Really tried. But you still felt a flush of embarrassment when she stepped inside, eyes sweeping the cluttered counter, the unfolded laundry on a chair, the half dead plant in the window.

“It’s not–sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” you said quickly, tossing a sock into your bedroom.

But she just smiled, slow and fond. “It looks like you live here. I like that.”

You gave her a look. “You would say that.”

“I meant it.”

She toed off her boots and padded toward the couch like she’d been there a hundred times. You followed, still a little flustered, and sat beside her with a sigh. You’d picked up chocolate from that corner store she liked, and she grinned when you brought it out.

“I love that you remembered this,” she said, unwrapping one and popping it into her mouth.

You shrugged, smiling. “You said it was your favorite.”

She leaned back on the couch, ankles crossed. “You’re learning me.”

“Trying to,” you responded. Your voice came out smaller than you meant. Her eyes shifted to you, something softer behind them now. And your heart picked up. There was something you’d been meaning to ask. You just didn’t know how. You fiddled with the corner of the chocolate wrapper. “Can I ask you something?”

Hyun-ju nodded. “Anything.”

You hesitated. “I’ve been thinking about…us,” you started slowly. “And about going further. Eventually.”

Her expression didn’t change–still calm, open, listening.

You took a breath. “I just–I don’t really know how anything works. With two women. Like, really works. And I know I could Google it, and I have a little, but it’s not the same as talking to someone who…” Your cheeks were burning now. “Who knows. Who had done things.”

Hyun-ju didn’t laugh. She didn’t tease. She leaned in, her voice quiet but full of warmth. “You can ask me anything, baby. I’ll tell you the truth.”

You were blushing so hard you thought you might catch fire. But Hyun-ju didn’t look surprised. Or uncomfortable. Just soft and steady. She turned on the couch, facing you fully now, her knee brushing yours. “Okay,” she said quietly. “What do you want to know?”

You hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Everything?”

That made her smile. Not teasing–fond. “Alright, let’s start simple.”

She reached for your hand, lacing her fingers gently through yours, her thumb brushing the top of your knuckles. It grounded you. Slowed your breath.

“There’s no one right way,” she started. “Some women like fingers. Some like mouths. Some like toys. Some don’t want penetration at all.” You nodded slowly. “And all of that’s okay. What matters is listening. To your partner, to yourself. Asking what feels good. Paying attention.”

Then she asked, “Have you had sex with guys before?”

You nodded. “Yeah. A few.”

Her head tilted. “Did you like it?”

You opened your mouth then closed it. Hyun-ju just waited. You shifted, cheeks burning. “I thought I did? Or I thought I was supposed to? I don’t know. It always just kind of felt…like it was happening at me.”

She hummed softly. “Did you even cum?”

You blinked at her. Didn’t say a word. Her brows lifted, and the tiniest smirk tugged at the edge of her mouth. “Ah.”

You groaned and dropped your head into your hands. “This is so humiliating.”

“Baby,” she said, tugging your hand gently down so she could see your face again. “No, it’s not. It’s not. It’s honest. And it makes me want to take my time with you even more.”

You looked at her–really looked at her–and your chest squeezed. “I want to try,” you whispered. “Not tonight. But sometime. With you.”

“I’d love that, whenever you’re ready.”

You swallowed hard. “Would you…show me? What it’s supposed to feel like?”

Her hand slid gently up your arm, fingers brushing your jaw, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll show you everything,” she said. “Exactly how good it gets. And I’ll go slow. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. But when you are–I want to ruin you for anything else.”

Your breath caught. And then–so quiet you almost didn’t hear yourself say it: “Do you want to stay over?”

Her smile was instant. And so, so soft. “I thought you’d never ask.”

It had taken you weeks to work up to it, but you finally told someone. One of your closest friends, mid coffee run and panic spill, when you blurted out, “I’ve been seeing someone…kind of. A girl.”

They didn’t even blink. “Is she hot?”

You nearly dropped your drink. “Yes?! That’s not the point!”

They laughed. “It’s very much the point.”

And after that, it got a little easier. You started doing research. Quietly. Privately. Watching videos, reading articles, letting yourself imagine. You even bought a toy–nothing major, just something small and safe to test the waters. And after all that…you still wanted her. No confusion. No doubt. Just want.

So when one of your friends invited you and Hyun-ju out to a club, you said yes. You texted her first.

i wanna go out with you tonight. like properly…dancing and all

that sounds dangerously like a date

maybe it is

i’ll wear something slutty

You nearly combusted. The club was loud, neon-lit, crowded–but it didn’t matter. Because she was there. In a cropped top and tailored pants, hair sleek, skin glowing under the lights. Your friends met her, exchanged looks you pretended not to notice, and she handled it like she always did–cool, calm, absolutely magnetic.

You stuck close to her the entire night. And for the first time, you didn’t hide it. You let your fingers trail down her arm when you leaned in to talk. You pressed your hand to her waist when the bass got too loud and the crowd swelled. You even kissed her cheek once, lingering longer than you ever had before.

Her hand found yours and squeezed. Adn when you pulled her onto the dance floor, she came willingly–one hand on your hip, the other sliding low, slow, possessive. You couldn’t stop touching her. You didn’t want to.

Back at your apartment, the air was different. Charged and quiet. You let her in and closed the door behind you with a shaky breath. Hyun-ju turned to face you, eyes dark, searching. “You okay?”

You nodded. “I want to,” you said. “Tonight.”

She stepped closer. “You sure?”

You nodded again, heart pounding. “I’ve thought about it. A lot. And I’m scared, but I…I want it. With you.”

She crossed the room slowly, closing the space between you. “Okay,” she murmured. “Then I’m going to take care of you. And you’re going to tell me everything you like. If you want me to stop, I stop. If anything doesn’t feel good, you say the word.”

You nodded again, eyes wide. “Okay.”

Her hand slid up your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. “You ready?”

“Yes…” you whispered.

She smiled. “Good girl.”

She kissed you slowly–no rush, no hunger, just warmth. Gentle lips and the slow slide of her hands around your waist like she was holding something sacred. When she deepened the kiss, you gasped softly, and she took it like a promise.

You let her guide you to the bed, her mouth never leaving yours. “You nervous?” she whispered against your lips. You nodded. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

Her hand stroked down your back. “Okay.”

Hyun-ju helped you out of your clothes piece by piece, pausing between every step. “You’re doing so good,” she whispered, pressing kisses to your shoulder, the curve of your collarbone. “So beautiful, baby. You’re okay.”

When you were bare in front of her, you instinctively went to cover your chest with your arms–but she caught your wrists, softly. “Don’t hide,” she said. “You’re perfect. I want to see all of you.”

And god, the way she looked at you–like you were art, like you were something holy–made you want to cry.

She undressed too, letting you see her at her own pace, and kissed you again as she gently guided you onto the bed.

She started with her hands. Slow strokes along your thighs, your stomach, your chest–never rushing, never groping. Just learning you. Letting you feel how much she wanted to be there.

“Tell me if anything feels weird, okay?” she said as her fingers slid between your legs, featherlight. “I’m going to start slow.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. Her fingers dipped lower, circling your clit in the softest, slowest motion. Your hips twitched, and she immediately paused.

“Too much?”

You shook your head quickly. “No–just surprised.”

“That’s okay.” She smiled. “We’re not in a hurry.”

When she found the right rhythm–gentle, steady, maddening–you couldn’t stop the sound that left you. A gasp. A whimper.

“Just like that,” she murmured. “Let go. Don’t think. Let it feel good.”

Her lips found your neck, warm kisses as her fingers coaxed you further, deeper into the feeling. You were panting now. Hands tangled in the sheets. Her name on your lips. “I’m gonna–” you gasped. “I think I’m–”

“That’s it,” she whispered, mouth brushing your ear. “Let me see you, pretty girl. Cum for me.”

And you did. With her name caught in your throat, your body arching into her hand, you unraveled completely. And when it was over–when your body went soft and trembling beneath her–she kissed your cheek, then your shoulder, and pulled the blanket up over you both. “You okay?” she whispered, brushing your hair from your face.

You nodded, breath still catching. “I’ve never…nothing’s ever felt like that before.”

She kissed your forehead. “That’s because no one’s ever taken the time to learn you.”

You laughed, breathless. “So that’s what it’s supposed to feel like.”

Hyun-ju smirked, tucking you into her arms. “Mhm. told you it was better with a girl.”

You buried your face in her neck, smiling. “Stay?”

She wrapped her arms around you like she already belonged there. “Always.”

The room was quiet, warm, lit only by the soft glow from your hallway light. You were curled in Hyun-ju’s side, tangled under your blanket, your body still humming from what she’d just done to you. Your fingers played lazily along her stomach, tracing the hem of her tank top.

She had one arm behind her head, hair a little messy, face flushed but smug. “You still breathing?” she teased.

“Barely,” you mumbled into her shoulder.

“Good.”

You laughed, and tilted your face up toward hers. Then kissed her. Softly. Slowly. A little longer than before. Her lips curved against yours. “Hey,” she warned between kisses. “You keep doing that and you’re gonna turn me on again.”

You smiled sweetly. “That’s the plan.”

Her eyes darkened instantly. “Oh, really?”

You nodded, blushing. “I feel…braver now.”

She pulled you into her lap, her hands sliding to your waist. “Mm. That so?”

You nodded again, but there was still a flicker of nerves in your eyes. She saw it–of course she did. But instead of pushing, she leaned forward and kissed your collarbone. “Then let me return the favor,” she whispered. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She took her time with you again–slower, even, than before. This time, you were laid out completely, her lips trailing kisses down your stomach, her hands spreading your thighs like they were hers to keep. “Let me show you what my mouth can do,” she murmured as she kissed the soft skin of your inner thigh.

You whimpered. And then–oh god. Her tongue was gentle at first. Careful. Drawing slow circles around your clit without ever quite pressing into it. She flicked, teased, tasted you like she was starving–and you couldn’t stop moving. “H-hyun-ju–”

“Shh, I know,” she said between kisses. “You’re doing so good. You taste so fucking sweet.”

When you started getting close, her tongue would slow. Pull back. Kiss along your thighs again until you were gasping. “Please,” you whimpered. “Don’t stop.”

She smirked against your skin. “Not yet.”

“Hyun–” You tried to move your hips, chase her mouth, but her hands pinned your thighs open with gentle strength.

“You’ll cum when I say,” she murmured. “And not a second before.”

You were panting now, eyes glassy, voice cracking. “But–what about you?” you asked, nearly sobbing. “You said I was turning you on. Don’t you want–”

She looked up at you from between your thighs, mouth wet, eyes half lidded with hunger. “Oh, I do, baby. But tonight’s for you. And I’m not stopping until you cum so hard you forget your own name.”

You moaned, legs trembling, body arching off the bed. And this time, when she sucked your clit between her lips and moaned into you…you broke. You came with a cry, your whole body trembling, hands gripping the sheets, hips stuttering as she licked you through it, slower now, softer, until your body collapsed back into the mattress.

She crawled up beside you, kissed your forehead, and whispered, “that’s two.”

You blinked, still catching your breath. “You’re keeping score?”

She grinned. “Of course.”

You didn’t fall asleep right away. Your body was too full of warmth. Your chest still fluttering from what she’d just done to you. You were curled up in her arms, your face tucked into the space where her neck met her shoulder, her hand brushing slow circles across your back.

Hyun-ju kissed the top of your head and exhaled softly. “That was really special to me,” she said. You blinked up at her. “Tonight,” she added. “You. Trusting me. Wanting me.”

Your heart tightened. “Of course I trust you.”

“I know. But…still. You didn’t have to let me in like that. And I know it wasn’t just about sex for you.”

You nodded, quietly. Her hand kept moving across your back. “I’ve had hookups,” she continued. “Casual stuff. Things that didn’t mean anything. But tonight–this meant something. Because it was you. And because I know how hard it is to be brave when your whole body’s screaming that you’re new to this.”

You pressed your lips to her shoulder. “You make it feel easy.”

She kissed your hair in return. “That’s the goal.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time after that. Just stayed there, tangled together, your hand resting over her heart.

It didn’t stop after that. If anything, it became impossible to stay away. You craved her. Her mouth. Her hands. Her laugh. Her steadiness. You started spending more time with her than without her–half your clothes in her closet, a toothbrush at her sink, a mug she kept just for you in her cabinet.

When you had to work, you texted her all day. About everything and nothing. About how bored you were. About how hot she looked in the selfie she sent at lunch. About how badly you wanted to crawl into her lap when she called you baby in a voice memo.

And Hyun-ju? She was insatiable. Not in a demanding way–but in that way where all it took was a look. One look from you and she was on her knees. On the floor. Behind the door. Wherever she could have you.

Once, she had her mouth on you in the backseat of her car. Thirty minutes before you were due to meet her friends for dinner. She made you cum twice, then fixed your hair like nothing happened, kissed your flushed cheek, and said, “You look even prettier like this.”

And you let her. Every time.

But lately, something had been tugging at your chest. A kind of guilt. A kind of ache. You loved the way she touched you. The way she cared for you, praised you, took you apart like it was her favorite thing.

But she hadn’t asked for anything. She never even hinted. And you wanted to give her something back.

So one night–warm lights, soft music, your body tangled with hers on the couch–you kissed her. Not tentative. Not testing. Just…wanting.

She kissed you back, gentle but a little surprised at how eager you were. You straddled her lap, fingers curling into the hem of her shirt. She pulled back slightly. “Baby–”

“I want to,” you whispered. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

Her eyes ghosted over your face, searching. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Please. I want to learn. I want you.”

Seh let you tug off her shirt, your hands shaking slightly. You kissed down her neck, fingertips brushing her ribs. You slid off her pants next, leaving her in just her bra and panties–so beautiful you forgot to breathe.

But then–you froze. Not because you didn’t want her. Because you did. So much it scared you.

Hyun-ju noticed instantly. Her hands came to rest gently on your hips. “Hey,” she whispered. “Look at me.”

You did. She was calm. Beautiful. Patient. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

You shook your head quickly. “No–I want to. I just…I don’t want to do it wrong.”

Her hand slid up to cup your face. “You won’t,” she said softly. “I’ll help you. I’ll tell you what feels good. We go slow. We go together.”

You swallowed. “Okay.”

And when she kissed you again, it was like falling into warmth you already knew by heart.

The kiss is deeper now. Slow, lingering kisses that tasted like trust and nerves and something more. Smoothing warm blooming between your ribs. Her hands stayed on your hips, grounding you. You pulled back just enough to whisper, “Tell me what to do.”

Hyun-ju smiled softly. “Start with touching. Explore. You don’t have to rush.”

Your fingers drifted down her sides, mesmerizing the curve of her waist, the slope of her thigh, the softness of skin beneath cotton. She was laid out beneath you, eyes never leaving yours.

Your fingers hit a spot on her stomach that made her jump slightly and giggle, your eyes snapped up but she just assured you it was because you tickled her.

So you continue.. Your hand hovered near the waistband of her underwear. Your mouth was on her neck now, and you sucked on her skin briefly. But then you stopped moving, pulling away so you could sit up. Breath shallow. Pulse fluttering in your throat.

Hyun-ju cupped the back of your head, voice warm and low. “You’re doing so good, baby,” she whispered. “Don’t overthink it.”

“I’m not–I just…” you swallowed. “I’ve never–”

“I know. I know you haven’t.” She kissed the side of your face. “Let me help, yeah?”

You nodded, and she gently took your hand, guiding it over the soft skin of her stomach, down– “You don’t have to go inside,” she murmured, “unless you want to. Just touch me the way you like being touched.”

Your fingers brushed the front of her panties and she sighed, hips shifting slightly beneath you. The sound shot straight through you, a bolt of nervous desire sparking low in your belly. You pressed more firmly, rubbing gentle, clumsy circles.

She gasped softly. “Yes. Just like that.”

You looked up at her, eyes wide. “Really?”

“Really,” she said, breathless now. “Feels so fucking good, baby.”

Your face flushed. You kept going. Tentative at first. Still unsure. But the more she moaned for you, the more her hips lifted to meet your hand, the more your nerves twisted into something bold.

You kissed her chest, her collarbone. Nuzzled into the space above her bra, lips brushing the swell of one breast.

She arched into your touch. “I love watching you learn,” she murmured. “You’re so careful. So sweet.”

You whimpered. “I want to be good for you.”

“You are,” she said. “You already are.”

Her praise made your head spin. You slipped your hand into her panties, heart hammering as you finally touched her. She was wet. So wet. And warm. And soft. “Fuck,” she moaned, clenching around nothing. “You’re making me crazy.”

Your fingers moved slowly, spreading her open, rubbing gentle circles around her clit. “Like that?” you whispered.

“Exactly like that,” she breathed. You couldn’t stop looking at her. Her mouth slightly open. Her eyes fluttering. Her thighs tensing under your body as you moved. She was so responsive. So vocal. And still, so focused on you.

“You’re doing everything right,” she said. “I want you to feel how much I want you.”

“I do,” you whispered. “I want to make you cum.”

She groaned. “Keep going, baby. You’re almost there.”

And when her body finally shook–when she moaned your name and clenched around your fingers and pulled you down for a kiss–you felt more powerful and wanted than you ever had in your life.

You held her until her breathing slowed, until her hands relaxed against your spine. You whispered, “Did I really do okay?”

She smiled, eyes half lidded. “You didn’t just do okay. You wrecked me.”

You giggled, your face buried in her neck. “I want to do it again. Soon.”

“Then we’ll do it again. As many times as you want.”

Time passed. Not in a loud, dramatic way. But in soft little shifts. In the quiet turning of pages. In the way your heart stopped feeling like a question every time you looked at her.

You started holding her hand in public. At first, it was small. Just pinkies brushing on the subway, or you knuckles resting against hers in a cafe line. But then it was real. Linking your arms when walking through the park. Reaching for her hand across a dinner table. Sitting her lap during a game night at a friend’s place without flinching when someone raised an eyebrow.

She noticed every time. Not with a smirk, not with a joke–but with a quiet squeeze of your hand. A kiss to your temple. The smallest smile that said I see you. I know how far you’ve come.

You told your parents. You practice in the mirror for three days. Rehearsed every line. Anticipated every question. And when you finally said the words out loud–”I’m dating a woman. Her name is Hyun-ju.”–your mom just blinked.

Then said, “Is she nice?”

And when you brought her home for dinner, she was more than nice. She helped wash dishes after. Told your dad his bad jokes were genuinely funny. Complemented the food like it was five-star dining. Your mom said she hoped Hyun-ju would come back soon.

You nearly cried in the bathroom after. Hyun-ju waited until you were curled in bed that night to kiss your forehead and whisper, “You did that. I’m proud of you.”

She introduced you to her brother next. He greeted you with a skeptical squint and a sarcastic, “So you’re the reason she’s been smiling like a Disney princess lately.”

You wanted to crawl into the floor. But by the end of the night, you were all laughing over drinks, and he sent Hyun-ju a selfie of the two of you with the caption: she’s way too sweet for your scary ass.

She grumbled, but you caught her saving the photo anyway.

And behind closed doors, you kept learning. You kept asking. And Hyun-ju kept giving.

You ate her out for the first time–nervous, shaking, trying to remember everything she’d taught you. She guided you with soft sighs and patient praise. Held your hair back. Moaned your name. “Just like that,” she whispered. “You’re making me fall apart.”

You learned her body in pieces. The curve of her hips. The sounds she made when you kissed her inner thigh. The way her voice dropped when she was close.

Eventually, she let you use toys–slowly at first, testing sizes and shapes, her hands always on your wrists, her eyes always watching yours. You’d never felt so trusted. So empowered. So wanted. And every time you touched her, every time you made her gasp or cry out or come undone, you couldn’t help but think–this is what love feels like.

The first time you said I love you…wasn’t when you meant to.

It wasn’t after a grand romantic gesture. It wasn’t in the middle of sex, or during an anniversary dinner, or while watching a sunset hand-in-hand.

It was on a Tuesday. You’d both had a long day. Work had sucked. The trains were late. You were grumpy, cold, and tired, and all you wanted was food and warmth and her.

You got to her apartment half an hour late, kicking your shoes off with a groan and dropping your bag like it had offended you personally.

“I bought dumplings,” you muttered, voice flat, “but they’re probably lukewarm at best and if I don’t sit down in the next five seconds I’m going to cry.”

Hyun-ju didn’t say anything. She just walked over, took your coat off for you, cupped your face in her hands, and kissed your forehead. And that was it. That was the moment. That moment you realized it had already happened.

You were already in love with her. You had been for a while. You just hadn’t said it yet. So you stood there, with your arms still half in your sleeves, heart wide open and raw, and blurted it, “I love you.”

The air stopped. Hyun-ju blinked. You blinked. Your stomach dropped. “Oh my god,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean–wait, no, I did mean it, I just–fuck.”

She smiled. Not big. Not dramatic. Just soft. Quiet. Like the words had been sitting on the tip of her own tongue too. “Good,” she said. “Because I love you too.” You stared at her, wide-eyed and overwhelmed. She kissed you again. Slower this time. With the kind of love that said I’ve been waiting for you to say it. Then she grabbed the bag of dumplings, pulled you toward the couch, and said, “Now sit down before you.”

author's note - hope you all enjoy! this was so special for me to write, and so much fun. i hope you love it as much as I do!!

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