#why? but why can't he have it? but why though?

[kathaynesart]

And here we go. For the full experience I would recommend reading while listening to THIS SONG. It inspired a vast majority of the scene as well as the timing, though I fear you'd have to read pretty fast to get to the ending at the same time as the song ends, so uh... good luck! Trigger warnings below:

The Day the Sky Bled Red

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT (SOON) MASTER POST

Whew. I'm so glad to finally be done with these big updates. After over a year I will finally be able to return to my smaller update format.

Some keen viewers might notice the reuse of certain shots from the series. There is very much intentional, though the reason for this will not be made clear until the ending of the arc.

As of the final shot we are FINALLY back to present-day in the Replica timeline (if it wasn't obvious). I'd drop in a timeline for reference but uh... I maxed out on the Tumblr images. Oh well. Hopefully the context clues were enough to help though!

I do want to take a moment to TED Talk about Raph's ninpo, if that's alright. Unlike his brothers, Raph didn't really spend much time trying to come up with unique ways of using his abilities. Why improve what already worked for him? However, I do think one interesting ability could have come naturally to him over time. I always found his way of mentally connecting with his brothers as "Mind Raph" to be a fascinating joke in the series. They way he could help and communicate with his brothers is something that was always really important to him and I see that ability bleeding into his ninpo. Because of this I feel that his Raph clones were always able to find and reach his brothers no matter the distance. His ability to interact with them at the same time was something he was still learning in the series, like when Mind Raph apologized to Leo for taking a moment too long to respond because he was busy helping someone else. Because of this I see his clones being able to react and communicate independently (kind of like Naruto clones), but are in constant connection to the original source, Raph himself. This made it really easy for Raph to relay information to the brothers, though it was seldom needed since Donnie's ninpo tech normally had that covered. On another note, I also wanted to make a point that whenever one of the brothers died in the bad future timeline, it was when they were separated from their brothers. I always liked in the movie how it wasn't until the brothers worked together that they were able to regain their abilities, confront the Krang, and even open portals to different dimensions. I wanted that lesson to resonate in Replica as well, even if subtly. Anyways, thanks for coming to my TED Talk!

The rest of the arc will be a lot less action, but still plenty more emotions. I can't promise that we won't be doing more flashbacks in the future but nothing to the extent of the "Holiday Special." We got a story to get through after all!

Thank you so much everyone for your patience with me as I slowly inch my way through this big story. It means a lot to me! I promise the next update will not be so emotionally draining.

[drewsephrry]

Love Island: Episode 2

series masterlist

pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader

words: 4.9k

warnings: cuss words

The fun and relaxed vibe the islanders had been building quickly shifts when the new arrival walks in.

“Woah! A girl!” Topper calls out from the kitchen, prompting a giggle from the newcomer as she approaches and greets him with a hug. Y/N, Sarah and Maddy exchange glances while Rafe, JJ and John B get off the daybed to meet the new girl. Rafe turns back to the girls with a teasing grin.

“Not coming?” He jokes, prompting them to get up. Y/N adjusts her dress, taking Maddy’s hand as they join the group.

“Why do I feel like she’s going to stir up some drama?” Y/N whispers, earning a snicker from Maddy.

“You’re probably right. My intuition’s saying the same thing.” Maddy replies as they follow the others. The islanders greet her warmly, introducing themselves with hugs.

“I’m Alyssa!” She announces with a bright smile. “Shall we head to the firepit? I’d love to get to know all of you!” She leads the way enthusiastically, the boys trailing after her while the girls hesitate before following.

As they all settle in, the boys begin asking Alyssa questions. It isn’t long before she glances around the group.

“Okay, so who’s coupled up with who?” She asks. Topper quickly wraps an arm around Sarah’s shoulders.

“I’m with Sarah.” He declares, as if staking his claim. Alyssa nods, her gaze shifting to Rafe, who is sitting beside Y/N.

“What about you? Rafe, right?” She asks. Rafe blinks, caught off guard.

“Uh, yeah. I’m, uh…I’m coupled up with Y/N,” He stammers making Y/N’s brows furrow slightly as Alyssa smirks.

“And how are things going between you two?” Alyssa presses, leaning forward slightly. Rafe glances at Y/N, seemingly searching for the right words.

“It’s still early days, but things are good.” Y/N answers when his silence lingers. The rest of the couples share their pairings as Alyssa nods thoughtfully. Later, the boys excuse themselves to let the girls chat with Alyssa.

“What’s your type?” Cleo asks curiously, making Alyssa pretend to think.

“Hmm…someone fit, with light eyes, that always gets me. Someone who’s fun but can have deep conversations too.” She pauses. “Rafe seems like that kind of guy.” She adds, causing the girls to exchange pointed looks. “Honestly, Rafe and Y/N seem like the it-couple here. They’re so close already and it’s only day two.” Maddy speaks up, making Y/N roll her eyes jokingly. Alyssa shruggs, undeterred.

“Well, like you said, it’s early days. His head could still turn.” She reveals, making the girls widen their eyes as they look at Y/N who turns to Maddie.

“Told you. Drama starter.” Y/N mutters to Maddy, who giggles, before turning back into conversation.

“Look, I’m not here to make seasonal girlfriends. I’m here to find love. If that means stepping on toes, so be it. You can’t expect to stay coupled up with the same person for weeks on end.” Alyssa leans back, addressing the group.

The girls exchange tense glances as Alyssa stands up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to chat with the boys. See you around.” She walks away, her hips swaying exaggeratedly as she approaches the guys in the kitchen.

“Oh my god.” Sarah mutters.

“I was this close to punching her.” Kiara says through gritted teeth.

“She’s got some nerve.” Cleo adds. They all turn to Y/N, expecting a reaction.

“Aren’t you going to say something? She basically said she’s coming for Rafe.” Kiara presses, but Y/N only shrugs.

“Guys, it's still the second day. I…yeah, I have fun with Rafe already and there’s definitely something building there, but if his head is gonna turn, I can't help it.” She says, her voice casual, though there’s an underlying tension in her words.

“He’s not going to go for her.” Maddy says confidently and the others nod in agreement.

“Early days, Mads.” She tries to remind Maddy, but mostly says it as a reminder to herself.

The rest of the evening unfolds with Alyssa effortlessly mingling with the guys, laughing and chatting as she tries to make connections. When it’s finally time to wind down, the girls retreat to the makeup room, giggling and talking as they remove their makeup and change for bed. Alyssa, however, is in the bathroom, mid-skincare routine, when Rafe walks in wearing nothing but his boxers, ready to brush his teeth.

“Oh, hey.” He says casually, grabbing and wetting the bristles of his toothbrush. Alyssa smirks, letting her hair tumble free from her ponytail and running her fingers through it.

“Hey, Rafe.” She replies, her tone light and flirtatious. She leans against the counter, her gaze roaming over his defined chest and abs.

“You good? Having fun?” He asks, voice slightly muffled from toothpaste as he starts brushing his teeth.

“Yeah.” She answers, her smirk widening. “You guys are fun. Nice. And very good-looking.” Rafe chuckles, spitting into the sink before wiping his mouth with a towel. She steps closer, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

“So, what is it you said you do?”

“My family owns a construction and development company.” Rafe replies, his tone polite but detached. Alyssa nods thoughtfully.

“Do you have a type?” She asks, her bluntness catching him off guard.

“Uh…not really.” He says after a pause. “I guess I like someone I can have fun with, adventures, good banter, that sort of thing.” As he speaks, his thoughts drift to Y/N. If they could go far enough to explore whatever this chemistry between them has to offer.

“Oh my god, that’s exactly what I look for too!” Alyssa exclaims, her eyes lighting up. “So…would you say I’m your type?” Rafe glances at her briefly before shrugging.

“Uh, sure.” He replies nonchalantly, his tone devoid of enthusiasm, but Alyssa smirks.

“Good to know.” She murmurs.

Just then, the bathroom door opens and Y/N steps inside. She’s wearing a pink pajama set with delicate lace trim, her tank top and shorts hugging her frame perfectly. Her wide eyes flicker between them.

“Am I interrupting?” She asks quietly, fidgeting with the ring on her finger. Rafe straightens immediately, relief washing over him at the sight of her.

“No, no, not at all.” He assures her, stepping aside so she can reach the sink. Alyssa gives Y/N a slow, appraising look before humming softly.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it. Nice talking to you, Rafe.” Without waiting for a response, she saunters out of the room. Y/N ties her hair back and begins washing her face. Rafe leans against the counter, watching her through the mirror.

“You okay?” He asks, his voice softer now and she nods, glancing at him with a small smile. Rafe’s chest tightens at her smile. He waits patiently as she finishes rinsing her face and grabs her toothbrush.

“What do you think of Alyssa?” She asks suddenly, catching him off guard. Rafe’s brows shoot up.

“Uh…she’s…okay?” He says hesitantly and Y/N raises an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue.

“She’s pretty.” He admits, shifting uncomfortably. “But there’s something missing. I just…I don’t think I could ever be attracted to her. Not in the same way as…” He trails off, his gaze locking with hers through the mirror. He closes his eyes, scratching the back of his neck, before finishing his sentence. “…you.”

Y/N’s eyes widen as she nearly chokes on her toothpaste. She turns away, coughing violently. Rafe immediately steps forward, gently rubbing her back.

“You okay? Want me to grab you some water?” He asks, concerned but she shakes her head, still coughing.

“No, no, I’m fine. Just…swallowed wrong.” She manages, her cheeks flushing as she spits into the sink. Rafe chuckles, leaning against the counter again as she wipes her mouth. His eyes drift over her, taking in her loose ponytail and her now-glowing, makeup-free face.

“What’s that?” He asks when she grabs a small jar from the counter.

“My moisturizer.” She explains, with a hoarse voice. “Do you want some?” Rafe nods, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Only if you do it.” He murmurs making Y/N laugh softly as she gestures for him to lean down. He crouches slightly, closing his eyes as her fingers gently glide over his face. Her touch is featherlight and Rafe exhales a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“That feels…really good.” He whispers. Y/N smiles, carefully working the cream into his skin.

“It’ll feel sticky at first, but it’s great for hydration. With all the sun we’re exposed to, it helps a lot.” She explains. When she finishes, Rafe glances in the mirror, noting the glow on his face.

“Looks good.” He says, turning back to her. His eyes linger as she adjusts her tank top strap and his jaw tightens at the sight of her effortless beauty.

“Ready to head downstairs?” He asks, clearing his throat and Y/N nods, leading the way to the bedroom. They settle into their respective sides of the bed, adjusting the covers. Y/N shifts slightly, her leg brushing against his and Rafe’s breath hitches.

As the rest of the islanders head to bed and the lights dim, Rafe props himself on one elbow, watching Y/N as she faces him. He brushes a strand of hair away from her face.

“You don’t have to worry about her, you know.” He whispers, making Y/N hum softly in question, her eyes meeting his.

“Alyssa.” He clarifies. “I like what we have and I want to see where it goes. However long or short that is.” His fingers twist a strand of her hair as he speaks, his voice barely audible. Y/N smiles, her arm draping over his torso in response. Rafe mirrors her smile, pulling her closer. He presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, the warmth of her body lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

The next day moves at a slower pace compared to the earlier ones. The girls lounge by the pool, gossiping about the boys as they work out and relax around the villa. Rafe and Y/N find a quiet moment together, stretched out on the couch under the terrace, getting to know each other better.

“Do you have any hobbies?” Rafe asks, his eyes closed as Y/N’s nails lightly trace along his arm, the touch comforting them both.

“Uh…I dance. I paint. And I read a lot too.” She reveals, her voice soft but genuine.

“Creative, aren’t you?” He teases, a smirk tugging at his lips, making her chuckle lightly.

“What can I say?” She teases, making him laugh along.

“What kind of dancing do you do?” His curiosity is evident and her touch doesn’t falter as she answers.

“I do some hip-hop, some contemporary too but mostly heels dancing.” She admits casually, catching him by surprise.

“Heels dancing? How does that even work?” He asks, raising a brow in disbelief.

“It’s this really sexy, technical style of dance in stilettos. It can be very challenging, but it’s so beautiful.” She explains, her face lighting up with enthusiasm as she talks about it. Rafe can’t help but admire the way she glows when she speaks about the things she loves.

“That sounds…I mean, I’ve got to see that.” He teases, grinning at her reaction.

“We’ll see about that.” She murmurs, looking away bashfully.

“Don’t get shy on me now.” He prods. “I bet you’re incredible at it. Especially that kind of dance.” Her nails pause briefly as she looks at him.

“You really think so?”

“I do.” He says earnestly. “And I’d love to see you dance. Anytime.” Her lips curl into a smile.

“Okay.” She whispers, agreeing softly.

Their quiet moment is interrupted by the sharp ping of a phone notification. Gasps ripple through the villa and Y/N sits up quickly, exchanging wide-eyed glances with Rafe as he follows her lead.

“Yeah? You’ll actually let me?” He presses, slightly surprised, but her soft laugh and nod are all the confirmation he needs. He grins, satisfied, before pulling his sunglasses back on and laying back down on the couch.

“I got a text!” Alyssa’s voice rings out, full of excitement. Y/N rises from the couch and glances toward the pool, where some of the girls chill in, Rafe instinctively placing a hand on her shoulder as he trails behind her.

“Alyssa, tonight you get to couple up with a boy of your choice, leaving a girl single and vulnerable. #maketherightchoice #steppingontoes.” Alyssa grins, reading the message aloud. Her excitement is palpable, while the rest of the girls exchange uneasy looks. The boys huddle nearby, their murmurs growing louder. Y/N glances at Rafe, the pit in her stomach tightening.

“I’m…I’m gonna go talk to the girls.” She mutters, her voice low. Rafe nods slowly.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later.” He says, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before letting her go. His eyes follow her as she walks toward Maddy and Sarah, her bikini accentuating every curve.

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up.” Sarah groans as Y/N sits down beside her.

“Did you see how thrilled she was to read that? She doesn’t care about any of us.” Maddy snaps, glaring toward Alyssa.

“Y/N, what’s on your mind?” Sarah asks, noticing the tension on her face.

“I…I don’t know. It’s just…I can’t control who she’s going to pick. And if it’s Rafe…” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I’ll be pretty bummed.” Maddy shakes her head firmly.

“He won’t give her a reason to pick him. He likes you, Y/N. It's obvious.” Before Y/N can respond, Alyssa’s high-pitched voice cuts through the villa.

“Rafey! Can I chat with you?”

Y/N stiffens, glancing over as Alyssa grabs Rafe’s arm. He looks confused but doesn’t protest. He turns back briefly, as if to gauge Y/N’s reaction, but she’s already averting her gaze. With a sigh, he lets Alyssa lead him to a secluded couch far from the others.

“Spoke too soon.” Y/N mutters under her breath, her fingers fidgeting with her ring as she tries to suppress the unease bubbling in her chest.

“Don’t do this to yourself.” Maddy insists. “Rafe likes you. A chat doesn’t mean anything.”

Meanwhile, Alyssa is pouring on the charm as she talks to Rafe, her fingers twirling a strand of hair.

“When was your last relationship?” She asks, her tone dripping with fake sweetness. Rafe shifts uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze.

“Over a year ago.” He says flatly.

“Was it a bad breakup?” She presses, leaning in closer and Rafe’s jaw tightens.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Relax, it’s just a question.” Alyssa replies with a low chuckle, her eyes shamelessly scanning him. “You work out, don’t you?” He nods curtly, barely holding back his irritation. Alyssa laughs softly at her own comment, but Rafe is already tuning her out. His thoughts drift back to Y/N. He can’t wait to walk away from this pointless conversation and return to her.

In the kitchen, Y/N is slicing fruit for a smoothie when Pope joins her, sliding onto a nearby stool. His eyes flick toward where Rafe and Alyssa are seated.

“They’ve been talking for a while.” He notes casually. Y/N glances in their direction briefly before returning her attention to the fruit. Her hands move quickly, but her grip on the knife is noticeably tense.

“Are you okay?” Pope asks gently. “Maybe…put the knife down for a second?” Startled, Y/N looks at her trembling hand and sets the knife aside with a sigh.

“I’m fine. Just…you know.” She struggles to explain, but Pope nods knowingly.

“I get it. My ex, she was gorgeous.”

“She’s not dead, Pope.” Y/N quips, cracking a small smile despite herself and he laughs.

“Fair. But yeah, she always got a lot of attention. And I’m not the jealous type, well, I try not to be, but it got to me sometimes.”

“I’m not jealous. I’m just…worried.” Y/N admits.

“That’s fair.” Pope says thoughtfully. “But even if things don’t go as planned, you’ll find someone who’s perfect for you.” He pauses, smirking. “Maybe he’s closer than you think.” Y/N chuckles, shaking her head as Pope blushes.

“Thanks, Pope. I appreciate it.” She says warmly before turning back to her smoothie.

“Hey.” Rafe says casually, drawing both of their gazes. Cleo smirks, rising from her seat.

As the sun dips below the horizon, the villa comes alive once again, music and laughter weaving through the air. Islanders mingle, drinks in hand, their conversations buzzing with energy. Y/N sits with Cleo on the daybed, both of them laughing loudly as they chat, until he approaches.

“I’ll leave you two to do your little Bluetooth thing.” She teases, waving a hand between them. Y/N rolls her eyes, the corners of her lips twitching in amusement.

“See you later, boo.” Y/N murmurs as Cleo leans down to kiss her cheek, then walks away with a knowing grin. Rafe takes her place, kneeling on the daybed before sitting down beside Y/N.

“You okay?” He asks, his voice soft as his eyes fall to her hands, which are busy twisting the rings on her fingers.

“Yeah.” She whispers, but her tone betrays her. Rafe frowns slightly and reaches for her hand, his touch gentle.

“Be honest. Did I do something? You’ve been...distant. Earlier, we were good. Did I say something stupid?” Y/N lifts her head, her eyes meeting his briefly before she shakes her head.

“No, no, you didn’t do anything. It’s just...I...” She trails off, struggling to find the words.

“You can tell me. Whatever it is, I want to know.” He squeezes her hand, his voice steady and comforting. Y/N exhales deeply.

“Alyssa.” She finally murmurs. “She...I’m worried.” Rafe shakes his head immediately.

“You shouldn't be.” He says.

“I mean, I get it…it's pretty early to close things off or anything and of course I'm not gonna ask you to do something like that. It's just…I like…how we are. The vibes, the talks, everything. And…I wanna explore this. But I can't help and worry. You know?” She explains and he nods understandingly.

“Yeah, I get it. And for the record, I do like how things are going too. But…I'm not interested in her.” He assures her, his voice firm. She exhales softly, the tension in her shoulders easing.

“Okay.” She whispers. “But…what if-”

“She's not gonna pick me. I made it pretty clear that I'm not interested in her. Okay? Can you trust me on this?” He asks, grabbing her hand to reassure her. Her fingers tighten around his as she nods, her eyes meeting his. For a moment, everything else fades away. Her breath hitches when his gaze drops to her lips, but the moment is broken by the sharp ping of a phone. Y/N pulls back slightly, her eyes darting to the kitchen where Topper is staring at his screen.

“I got a text!” He announces. “Can all islanders gather at the firepit? #shitisabouttogodown #stealingtime.”

The group buzzes with chatter as they move toward the firepit. Rafe helps Y/N to her feet, keeping her hand in his as they walk. Just before they arrive, he gently tugs her closer.

“We’re going to be okay.” He murmurs, his arm slipping around her waist as he leads her to sit down beside him.

The tension in the air is thick as everyone waits, nerves on edge. Another phone ping sounds and all eyes turn to Alyssa, who smirks as she stands, her phone in hand.

“Alyssa, it’s time for you to choose which boy you want to couple up with.” She reads aloud, stepping forward. The girls exchange uneasy glances, but Y/N keeps her focus on the fire.

“This wasn’t an easy decision.” Alyssa begins, her tone practiced. “I didn’t have much time to think and I’m not sure if it’s the right choice. But this boy made me feel welcome and I really enjoyed the banter we shared. And I think there's more to explore with him.”

“The boy I want to couple up with is...” She pauses, the silence stretching. Sarah glances nervously at Y/N, Kiara’s leg bounces restlessly and Cleo suppresses a yawn.

“Rafe.”

Y/N feels her chest tighten at the reveal, her heart sinking.

“Oh my god.” Maddy whispers. Rafe looks at Alyssa, stunned, before turning to Y/N, whose face is unreadable as she stares into the flames. Alyssa steps closer, extending her hand to Rafe. He rises reluctantly, not touching her, his gaze fixed on Y/N.

Another ping breaks the silence. Y/N picks up her phone with trembling hands.

“Y/N, you are now single.” She reads quietly. “But don’t worry, the best is yet to come. #itsokayboo #troubleinparadise.” Sarah and Maddy immediately move to her side, guiding her away from the firepit. Rafe steps forward, trying to follow, but Cleo blocks him.

“Give her some time, pretty boy.” She says firmly, following the group with Kiara.

“What the fuck just happened?” JJ mutters, staring into the firepit as the others look on in stunned silence.

In the kitchen, the girls gather around Y/N on the couch, their faces etched with concern.

“How are you feeling?” Sarah asks cautiously and Cleo elbows her.

“What kind of question is that? Obviously, she feels like shit.”

“Cleo!” Maddy snaps, before turning back to Y/N. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

“I’m fine.” Y/N lies, twisting her ring anxiously.

“Don’t do that.” Kiara says softly, kneeling in front of her. “It’s okay to be upset.” Y/N exhales shakily.

“He told me not to worry. That he made it clear to her he wasn’t interested. He said she wouldn’t pick him. And yet...here we are.” The girls all stare at her with sympathy, wanting to comfort her. Before the girls can respond, Rafe’s voice cuts in.

“Can we talk?” He asks.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Kiara snaps, her tone icy.

“Fuck off.” Sarah adds sharply.

“All men do is lie.” Cleo mutters, shoving him back. Rafe stumbles and sighs, his eyes glued on Y/N who looks at Maddy on the other side. Maddy rubs her back as she stares back at her.

“Please.” Rafe says desperately, his eyes fixed on Y/N. “I didn’t know she’d do this. Y/N, come on.” Y/N finally looks up at him, her voice steady but cold.

“She wouldn’t have chosen you if you hadn’t given her a reason to.”

“I didn’t!” Rafe exclaims, frustration coloring his voice. “I told her I wasn’t interested!”

“Yeah, right.” Y/N retorts. “I don’t want to hear it, Rafe. You made me trust you and now you’ve ruined it.”

“She didn’t misunderstand.” Alyssa interjects smugly, crossing her arms.

“I didn’t mean to betray your trust…upset you. I meant it when I said that I'm not into her. Okay? I don't know, she…she must have misunderstood.” He exclaims, Alyssa and the boys following her.

Rafe turns to her, frustration evident in his furrowed brows, but before he can say anything, Y/N stands abruptly from the couch and heads inside the villa. The group shifts their attention to Rafe and Alyssa.

“Alyssa, what do you mean?” Sarah asks, adjusting her dress.

“I mean, Rafe was being nice to me, flirting, even. He never said he was closed off or that he wasn’t interested.” Alyssa claims, her voice laced with confidence. Rafe exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Alyssa, I’m not interested in you. And I wasn’t flirting. I was just being polite. That’s it.” His tone is firm, and Alyssa stiffens at his words. “I like Y/N.” He continues, his voice unwavering.

“I like how things are with her. Yeah, it’s early and she said we should keep our options open, but I’m not keeping them open for you.” With that, he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving everyone stunned, including Alyssa.

Upstairs, Y/N sits on the terrace, absentmindedly twisting a ring on her finger as her eyes glimmer. The soft click of the door closing behind Rafe makes her glance up.

“Can we please talk?” He asks, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. She nods and he steps closer, settling beside her.

“Don’t shut me out.” He pleads. “Yell at me if you have to. Just…don’t shut me out.” Y/N sighs, her gaze dropping to her hands.

“I shouldn’t be upset. We never said we were exclusive and it’s still early. But…when she said you made her feel welcome, that she wanted to explore something with you, it frustrated me. Because you told me you weren’t interested. That you made it clear to her.”

“I did make it clear.” Rafe insists. “I swear, I never meant to give her the wrong idea.” She exhales shakily.

“Trust is a big thing for me, Rafe. And it’s not easy for me to just-” She stops, her voice trailing off. Rafe reaches out, resting a reassuring hand on her thigh.

“I know I messed up. I should have been more direct with her.” His thumb brushes against her skin in a soothing motion. “I get it if you’re upset. You have every right to. But I want to make this up to you, to prove to you that I like you, Y/N. That I’m in this.” His voice softens. “I can’t promise I won’t screw up again, because, honestly? I can be kind of an idiot.” A small laugh escapes her lips and Rafe grins.

“But I can promise to try for you.” He finishes, the sincerity in his eyes catching her off guard. She leans in slightly and he takes the hint, cupping her face gently. Her eyes flicker to his lips.

“I don’t want you to feel obliged to choose me.” She murmurs. “I love spending time with you, but I don’t want you turning people down just because of me or because you think you have to.”

“Just…let's see where this takes us? Okay?” She asks and Rafe doesn’t answer. Instead, he closes the distance, pressing his lips to hers. She stiffens for half a second before melting into him, the kiss soft yet charged. When they finally pull apart, Rafe’s lips curl into a small smile.

“Promise me you won’t shut me out.” He whispers. “I need to hear you. Even if it’s just to tell me I’m being a dumbass.” She rolls her eyes playfully.

“Okay, Rafey.” The moment the nickname leaves her lips, Rafe tenses. He swallows hard.

“Wh-what?” His voice comes out rougher than expected. She smirks.

“It’s not ridiculous.” He mutters under his breath, making her brows lift in confusion.

“Oh, that ridiculous nickname Alyssa called you earlier.” She rolls her eyes, grinning.

“Oh? My bad, I didn’t realize you actually liked it-”

“No, no.” He interrupts quickly. “I don’t mean that. I just-” He hesitates, then exhales. “I don’t like it when she says it. But…when you say it? I don’t mind.” Y/N tilts her head, amused.

“Oh? Good to know.” A knowing smile tugs at her lips as she leans back and Rafe watches her, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle.

Under the night sky, they sit together in comfortable silence, the tension between them slowly fading into something lighter, something undeniable.

Later that night, as the islanders get ready for bed, Y/N heads downstairs and immediately notices the newly added bed in the room, her name plaque resting on top. She sighs softly, slipping under the covers and getting comfortable. Maddy walks past, pausing just long enough to press a quick kiss to her forehead before heading to her own bed. Moments later, JJ strolls by and stops beside her, smirking.

“You know, Maddy wouldn’t mind me joining you.” He teases. Y/N rolls her eyes, fighting back a smile.

“Go to bed, J.” She says and JJ shrugs.

“Well, I offered.” He exclaims before wandering off. Soon after, Rafe makes his way to his own bed, only to pause when he notices the name plaque on it has changed. His gaze sweeps the room until he spots her. Without hesitation, he walks over, leans down and presses a kiss to her lips before she can react.

“I’m gonna miss you tonight.” He murmurs, his lips still grazing hers. From across the room, Topper and Sarah holler in amusement, making Y/N giggle. She playfully pecks Rafe’s lips once more.

“You mean you’re gonna miss me hogging the blanket?” She teases.

“Oh, 100%.” He deadpans. “I love waking up in the middle of the night freezing while you’re wrapped up like a human burrito.” She laughs, giving him a gentle push.

“Go to your bed.” She murmurs. Rafe smirks, backing away slowly before finally climbing into his bed, conveniently positioned across from hers. He doesn’t take his eyes off her, watching as she shakes her head and turns to chat with Cleo.

Then, Alyssa enters the room. The energy shifts as everyone’s attention flickers toward her. Without saying a word, she moves to her bed and lies down, keeping to the very edge. She doesn’t look at Rafe. Doesn’t speak to anyone.

“Goodnight, everyone!” Kiara calls from across the room, sparking a chorus of sleepy goodnights as the lights dim. Just as the room falls into silence, Rafe’s voice cuts through the darkness.

“Oh, hey, Y/N!” She furrows her brows, cheeks instantly warming, nervous for what to come out of his mouth.

“W-what?”

The entire room seems to hold its breath, waiting for whatever he’s about to say.

“For the love of God and for my sake, please don’t dream of Captain America tonight.” He jokes. Laughter erupts, filling the space. Y/N grins, grabbing her pillow and launching it across the room. It hits Rafe with a muffled thud, making him groan. As the laughter fades and the room settles, Y/N exhales softly, sinking into her bed.

Maybe Rafe was right. They’re going to be okay.

to be continued...

A/N: a little late valentine's day gift for you guys, hehe

taglist: @cherrygirlfriend @judesgfirl @slickdickwitchbitchh @leather-n-velvet @alinavalentine @littlelamy @nami11 @madiisynnxx @ts1mp0ne @starkeyslibrary @venusluves @rafecameronsfavourite @lolharrystylesissexy @nofacenocase00 @k4yr14 @drewslefttoe @tinie03 @angielvsnick @dellevans @malibuhearts @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @harryweeniee @imawhoreforu @fastlovela @jjmaybankmylovee @miserablebl00d @angeliki-spiteri9711 @drewsnr1slut @laniirackssss @emotionsmgcbabe @oconnrs @missabsey @amterasuu @cornliastreett @pvyden @italk2god @swagmoneydrew @lerclec @emmaaas-posts @dorcas4meadowes @isabellaxlilah @xoxosblogsblog @bxbychxrry @julesbog @annaaaamichelle @st8rkey @lewispool @my-name-is-baby @silkylovey @soincredible (if you have added yourself on my taglist and your tag doesn't show up here or if you want to add yourself, comment or reblog!!)

[sukunasweetheart]

hear me out on bully!sukuna okay...

warnings; highschool setting, DUBCON, dry humping, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, sex in a confined space, semi-public sex, breeding, sukuna is kinda mean but is a simp at the same time, groping, cum in panties, just lots and lots of cum, "just the tip" he lied, mentions of pregnancy risk, ?cheating, sukuna the toxic tsundere but is horrendously down bad and perverted, eventual or mildly submissive sukuna?, this isn't gonna be the healthiest relationship - but its to be expected tho bc its a bully fic so..

Word count; 5.5k

bully!sukuna bothers you because he has a weird complex with you - preferring to be outright hated by you rather than deal with indifference or facing possible rejection.

it's often teetering on the edge of actual bullying; his existence is more of a nuisance than a serious distress to you.

he often loves getting on your nerves by tripping you up with his foot, only to catch you himself, or he purposefully bumps into you in the hallways making you almost topple over - like the fucking asshole he is. and you'll never forget the time you happened to get paired up with him on an assignment and the bastard had the audacity to try and take you both down by not doing his part. in exchange for his participation, he had you carry his bag for him around school for a week...

and he only gets more thrilled the more you fight back or retaliate.

sukuna likes to call you names, often using very condescending and colourful insults against you. and he likes to harass and chase off any potential boyfriends that come your way. that last one pisses you off the most. you want a boyfriend so bad, and that bastard is being such a huge cockblock. god forbid a girl wants to get laid. all your friends have had their first times already - why can't you?!

and he's back at it again too, after finding out that another guy confessed to you at school today. you accepted it. obviously when he wasn't watching. for a damn reason.

he finds out your last class was P.E today and you find yourself cornered in the locker room, empty of girls except for you. you ended up lagging behind as you were texting your new boyfriend over your phone after class. you try to walk past him to go home, but he traps you against your own locker.

you end up snapping back at him, having had enough of it.

"what is wrong with you? you know what? i think you're obsessed with me!" you shout back, shoving at his chest.

"who do you think you are, to stop me from getting a boyfriend... what, do you like me or something?" you speak without thinking, in a fit of anger.

"i bet you do! i bet you go home every night and jerk off to daydreams of me. is that right?" you go off, pushing every button you can.

sukuna falls silent. you expect him to argue back, to deny all your claims fiercely, and then go storming off, having heard enough of your nonsense.

but he's glaring at you, tight lipped, ears and cheeks turning bright red.

"...why're you silent all of a sudden? say something..." you continue awkwardly. "don't tell me... you actually...?"

"shut up," he hisses at you. "just shut up, for a second."

he wears an expression you've never seen on him before, and seems to be thinking about what to say next. he looks as though he wants to say something.

you open your mouth to tell him 'nevermind', but the sound of a small group of girls approaching the locker room is audible, which interrupts the both of you, and you panic. just what kind of rumours would spur on if they caught you and sukuna like this in here? you only just got your first boyfriend, there's no way you're gonna let this bastard ruin that for you!

thinking quickly, you open up your locker and roughly push sukuna inside, and then jump in after him. you shut the locker door quietly and peek outside through the little gaps at the top. the girls come in, having come back to get something that they left behind. what terrible timing.

one of the girls walk up a little close to your liking and you end up moving your body back as far as you can, your back pressing up against sukuna without thinking. and then you're startled by the low and quiet groan you hear behind you.

whipping around, you see sukuna with clouded eyes and a tightened jaw, barely able to fit inside this narrow locker. but he doesn't find it in himself to feel uncomfortable or annoyed at the situation.

after all, your ass is pressed up tightly against his growing bulge right then and there.

you were right about what you'd said earlier. he'd always daydreamed of a moment like this, pumping his cock at the thought of doing lewd things with you...

you turn back to the front, panicked. what the fuck? why does he look... like that?

kinda hot...

shaking your head, you try to ignore your beating heart, praying that the girls exit the locker room soon so that you can quickly escape from this situation.

meanwhile, sukuna's hands struggle to keep away from you as his brain begins to short circuit, dick helplessly twitching in his pants, chest heaving but it being of no help - as the locker fills with the scent of you in it, the sweetness of your shampoo and perfume, making his heart pump harder.

you slowly shuffle forward a little, trying not to lean against him so much. when are these girls leaving... you think to yourself. they've started gossiping amongst themselves, sitting on the bench. goddamn it!

large hands fall onto your hips and pull you back toward him. you feel him grinding his crotch against your ass, and you know that whatever is poking you is definitely his fucking boner.

"what the fuck, sukuna? s-stop," you whisper to him as quietly as you can.

sukuna has stopped his thinking in itself entirely. whatever's making him act right now is nothing but his pure and selfish desires. there's no way he can resist you when you're the one who climbed inside your own locker with him. he needs to relieve his ache somehow.

he gets more and more handsy with you as each minute passes. his large hand snakes up to fondle your clothed tits as he continues to discreetly dry hump your ass.

you should be disgusted. you should jump out right now and snitch on him and call him a molester right in front of these girls.

but good god, this feels like... nothing you've felt before. his wandering hands. his immense horniness. this tight enclosed space. the size of his boner. it's all making you excited in a weird way, and you're starting to feel aroused at your core.

sukuna is doing his best to get some pleasure from this minimal friction he's getting inside his tight space, but it's not enough. the desperation and arousal claws at him, his dick hurting from how tightly it's sitting in his pants. he swallows on nothing.

fuck it. he's already started. why hold back now?

you feel a shift behind you and the sound of fabric and a zipper being undone. is he...?

you gasp softly when something hot and hard gets pushed between your thighs. it's... it's pulsing. you can't believe this is happening. with sukuna, out of all people? should you be mortified or intrigued? you fear that the latter might be truer.

there's ringing in his ears. not a single logical thought is occupying his brain as he thinks purely with his dick at the moment, having waited so long for a moment like this. fuck, he's so hard. and it only excites him more that you haven't leapt out of this locker yet, running away from him. even though you could. his heart is on the verge of beating it's way up to his throat.

small, shallow thrusts. you feel his heavy cock rub up against your inner thighs, and both of his large hands are now groping your clothed breasts lewdly. he unbuttons your blouse, and then messily pulls down your bra, as he's desperate to feel the real thing, and you can't muster the strength to swat him away. when his fingertips tease your nipples, you have to stop yourself from making any noise. you've always wanted someone to touch you there...

never did you know that someone would be sukuna. you grab his wrist in a fit of desperation.

"you're a fucking pervert... what the hell are you doing?" you tell him a tad bit loudly, trying to deny the heat in your cunt.

"... did you guys hear something?" one of the girls suddenly ask outside.

your heart drops to your stomach as this sets off a panic inside you again. a big, warm hand clasps over your mouth, shushing you effectively.

"quiet..." he mumbles into the shell of your ear, and it weakens your knees. it never occurred to you that he's always had an attractive voice. a wave of goosebumps wash over your skin.

you look down. you can get a tiny peek of his tip whenever he thrusts in... it's so fucking big. you can't possibly fit that inside you, could you? when you catch that it's glistening with precum, your pussy squeezes around nothing.

one hand still over your mouth and the other teasing your tits, sukuna is busy slowly chasing an orgasm, regardless of the girls that have gotten a little wary outside. they soon forget about it and continue their pointless chatter.

fuck... his cock is so close to your cunt. the thought of it makes him shudder. he's almost there.

your hands are semi-clawing at his hand that's still against your mouth, when you suddenly feel him cease the incessant groping at your breasts. instead, it goes under your skirt - a finger loosening your panties up to fit his fat cock beneath the flimsy fabric.

there it is. your bareback fuckin' pussy. he has to bite his own lip to hold off groaning out loud. he does his best to slide his dick in and out against your slit - being restricted in movement due to the tight space, but make doing somehow.

you're actually thankful for his hand covering your mouth up, as you would've definitely moaned out loud if it weren't for him. it's unreal how turned on you are right now. does he feel it? all the slick pouring out of you? it's so, so strange. you were so sure that you didn't want this with him before, but not anymore...

it grazes over your clit over and over, painfully teasing, and you need to orgasm so badly.

sukuna jolts his hips against you, giving a final short thrust as his tip catches the fabric of your panties - he presses his own face against your neck to effectively silence himself as he reaches his first high.

you shudder as his dick pulsates between your thighs so strongly, making a hot mess in your underwear, cum spilling out in thick ropes - you feel the heat of it on your poor cunt, and you shiver as sukuna inhales deeply against your neck, his breathing wavering, dick aching for more even as it continues to spill heavily, creaming your panties. his tongue licks a stripe up your neck, causing you to shiver.

it's a pleasure that's greater than he could've ever given himself alone. but he wants more. he needs more.

you're in the middle of trying to gather yourself again, but you again, feel him moving his hips. just what is he up to now...?

your eyes widen when you catch onto how he's trying to thrust himself inside you now. there's no way... you struggle against him but he holds you still - mouth still firmly silenced by his palm.

the best he can do is have the tip inside. but for now, it's enough. he doesn't care - as long as he can get whatever pleasure that's available...

"j-just the tip..." he whispers with the smallest voice he can manage, against your ear again. it turns you on so good.

you can't help but enjoy when he gropes at your chest again, his tip bullying it's way in your desperate and wet hole, popping in and out, in and out, in and out.

even with just the tip, you're about to lose your mind. you want more, but at the same time you're scared what'll happen to your mind if he shoves that whole thing inside you.

sukuna's brain is yet again short circuiting as he dips the tip of his cock into your hot and slippery cunt - making him feral and desperate to get deeper. yet, what's stopping him is this confined space that suffocates him. there isn't enough oxygen for both of you here, and he wonders whether it's you or the lack of oxygen that's making him endlessly breathless.

oh, he's close again.

he's going to cum again, but this time inside. you want to protest, but you've always wondered... does it feel good to have it spill inside? regardless, you still try to struggle against him purely because you don't like the thought of sukuna knowing that you're enjoying this. even though it's already too late.

he holds you so tightly against him - before letting himself loose once again - tip poking into your pussy as he pumps inside, balls clenching. your hole is welcoming, and it puckers around him mind numbingly, milking his heavy cock for everything he has. you feel the warmth of his seed reaching inside you but not very deep - most of it trickles back out onto your panties. he twitches against you harder and more intensely, hips shoving into you messily.

you're both out of breath...

...and that's when both of you hear the girls leaving the locker room with muffled laughter, successfully avoided noticing you and him inside.

they turn the lights off before they leave, and the locker room turns dark and silent. you're now sweating against sukuna - and the moment you feel his hands loosen against you, you push the locker door open and step outside, unsure of what exactly you're trying to run from. sukuna himself? or the fact that you might be forming some kind of attraction to him? to the way he treats you?

but alas, no matter how fast you think you are, you could never beat sukuna's reflexes. in that quick momentum, he's pursued you outside and grabbed your arm - before pulling you back and shoving you against the now closed locker door.

"where do you think you're going?" he asks with a deep and low voice, vein popping on his forehead and looking desperate and an intense blush being permeated on his face. why is it that it's always made you feel so squirmy, whenever he cornered you like this? the size difference, the strength difference... the pervert here is not only him, it seems.

your needy gaze flutters from his eyes down to his exposed cock. it's veiny, throbbing, and leaking messily. it looks heavy and most importantly... it's so fucking big.

in the blink of an eye, sukuna has hiked your legs up, holding you up against the lockers, making it so that you cannot run from him again. it's game over.

"having the nerve to try and run after seducing me with your ass..." sukuna mutters angrily, lining his dick above your cunt and tummy, showing off how deep it'll reach if he slid it inside.

"no- i didn't..." you protest weakly, heart hammering with excitement. "idiot... let me down."

you tell him, despite your arms that loop around his neck.

"your voice is lacking it's usual sharpness," sukuna tells you breathlessly, flipping your skirt up and pushing your panties aside. it's still wet with his previous loads. oh- he can't think straight.

"wait-! something that big won't fucking fit!" you tell him, only now the fear beginning to hit you. moreover, you're afraid he'll end up breaking you and stop all rational thinking - this is dangerous.

"it will. i'll mould the shape of your insides to my fuckin' cock," sukuna insists, eyes focused on your wet glistening pussy. so pretty.

he pushes it in. but he doesn't stop there. he pushes it in all the way. balls fucking deep.

your eyes widen and when he thrusts the whole thing in one go, you well and truly break. legs trembling, pleasure washes over you and you cry out a moan.

"fuck-! did you just cum? are you cumming?" sukuna asks, panting, slowly sliding himself in and out as your cunt spasms around him. soon enough, he speeds it up and makes sure his tip is bullying your cervix with each deep thrust, eyes rolling back as your walls welcome him so warmly and clamp down on him.

"haah- haah- mm, fuck! you're so fuckin' tight! ugh, 'm gonna bust again," he slurs messily, hips moving non-stop. the unkempt bush of his pubic hair gives friction against you adding onto your strange sensations of pleasure. drool begins to roll out from the corner of your mouth.

his balls have never felt heavier as they slap against your wet ass each time he slams his cock inside, slick pooling out of you and creating droplets on the floor. he has a lot to give you... and your cunt is being so agreeable, the way it sucks on him, warm and wet. it's turning him animalistic, no thoughts running inside his brain except to fucking breed this hole. breed you.

not inside... not inside... you think, not realising that you're not saying it out loud.

"i'm gonna do it inside. i'm gonna-!" he hisses, hips stuttering at the last second.

"ugh- shit! 'm c-cumming... fuuck... fuck!" sukuna cusses deeply, thighs trembling as he continues giving tiny, but sharp thrusts even as he's spilling into you while buried to the hilt.

it's hot. you can feel that it's thick. there's so much. even more than his two previous loads. sukuna's face being twisted in pleasure puts you in awe - and you unknowingly tighten your pussy around him as he orgasms inside, joined to you hip-to-hip.

he's never felt such a deep seated pleasure in him before. he continues to gasp and shudder with every stringy spurt that he knows is reaching your womb. what if he actually knocks you up? what if his seed takes? it's a scary but thrilling thought. the thought of you swollen with his baby... all rational thinking has been thrown out the window due to this pleasure.

sounds that you never could've imagined coming out of sukuna continue to spill from his lips... he slides his cock in and out and squeezes every last drop out of himself, and he suddenly brings his lips to yours, kissing you feverishly. both of you pant over each other while making out messily as he slowly begins to thrust into you over and over again. he's going to get addicted to this. he's going to crave your pussy everyday from now on.

sukuna sucks on your tongue like he wants to swallow it. your arms hold onto him for dear life.

all too suddenly, he brings you off the locker, arms hooked under your legs and palms supporting you by holding onto your ass cheeks.

the kiss breaks, and catch sight of sukuna's lust-filled eyes as he moves you up and down his cock using his monster-like strength. and you're held up by him like this, you can't do anything to stop him. just cling onto him and take what he gives you.

"f-fuck, sukuna... ooh-! t-too deep," you mumble with tears in your eyes, gasping from the way his tip kisses your womb effortlessly. he's seriously too big for his own good.

"keep saying my name like that- it'll only make my dick harder," he pants, continuing to use your pussy like a fleshlight. his thick load has made it even wetter. he can feel your slick beginning to cream up around the base of his cock now, and it makes his chest well up with something like pride. does he turn you on that good? this hole of yours refuses to run out of lube.

the absurdly obscene plap plap plap sound of flesh against flesh, makes for the lewdest echo in the locker room. that, paired with the mild darkness, and the possibility of being seen by someone coming in during after-school hours, makes for the perfect thrilling atmosphere for such feral sex.

it's driving you mad. the echoing, the subtle anxiety, the smell of his sweat.

it's marvelous...

another orgasm hits you like a bullet train. gasping, you whimper as he continues fucking you through it this time, relentlessly thrusting into you regardless of your pulsing walls.

"shit... your cunt's clinging to me," sukuna groans, feeling blessed to see you get undone by him, by his cock. the fingertips of his large hands against your ass sink deeper, the pleasurable knot in his stomach getting tighter once again.

"you and your uselessly big dick... fuck you," you chide breathlessly, doing your best to keep your sentences clear even as he plunges into you with an unforgiving pace.

"clearly not useless when it's made you cum twice now, right?"

"shut up-"

you get cut off when he begins to thrust faster, as you witness the very moment sukuna's eyes become blank with pleasure, getting ready to empty his balls again.

"slutty fuckin' cunt. latching onto me so greedily... can't stop- thrusting-" he mumbles, gripping onto your ass tighter.

you can't help but sigh with pleasure when he begins to fill you up again, twitching and pulsing like crazy inside you as he spills so much seed like he's peeing.

"ohh, shit... cumming s-so hard..." he breathes out shakily.

you're starting to feel full. but you get the feeling that this still isn't the last one. desperate kisses are pressed against the side of your neck as he takes some time to relax a little again, thoroughly finishing deep into you, hips jolting every now and then.

he carries you over to the bench in the middle of the room, where he lies you down and brings your knees closer to your chest, fully exposing your cunt to him, whole. his dick still squeezed into you.

with a hoarse shaky groan, he slowly drags his thick cock in and out of you in this position, with only the heavens knowing how he is still hard after so many orgasms.

you give a small yelp as he speeds up - your plush walls embracing him warmly and filling up his balls once more. god, he doesn't think he'll ever have enough of this pussy. of you.

"idiot! e-enough.. take it out... i'll get- pregnant-" you warn him not-so-convincingly, with gasping moans between each word.

"c-can't... you're... sucking me in so good... can't stop-" sukuna replies with no thoughts in his brain other than to relieve the throb in his erection again. it's driving him up a wall, too. the flesh of your ass that softens the impact everytime he drives his hips into you. your squeals and whines of euphoria. your exposed breasts and glistening clit. he burns every detail into his brain, to make sure he remembers forever...

he doesn't even know what number round this is, but it amazes even him how he feels like he's already edging close to another climax. it's pathetic and ridiculous of him. but he can't help the fact that you push him over so easily.

the number of tissues he'd run through just from jerking off every time he thought about you all night... you have no clue.

recalling those moments makes him feel even more determined to chase this final orgasm even more rigorously. it won't be difficult, not with how your cunt swallows him up so nice.

"fuck.... i- i like you. i've always liked you..." sukuna mumbles out the sudden confession slowly.

"stupid... bastard... you say this now...?" you say as you sigh in pleasure, almost being close to your own climax as well, this position setting off yet another deep arousal in you. after all that bickering and tormenting - he has the audacity to confess to you? only after cumming inside multiple times?

"can't give any excuses can i?" he voices with a curt laugh - finding himself to be pitiful in this moment as well.

"but it's true... i- fuck- i like you so much..." he groans, hips getting faster.

your eyes begin to blur with tears again... sukuna thumbs your clit gently... and then you arch your back with a gasping squeal. sukuna too, hisses as he pumps you full for a final time, letting his dick drain itself in your fluttering hole, hips and thighs jerking uncontrollably while his tip leaks spurt after spurt through your cervix, overflowing you to the maximum.

after dumping his final load, he slowly drags his large, twitching cock out of you with a pop and lets it rest against your gaping cunt, pulsing weakly against your clit. his thumb pushes your panty lining aside to keep your pussy exposed for him to see. your hole is still gaping and thrumming, as if missing him already and he's watching with awe as big globs of his spend trickle out of you thickly. if he wasn't so exhausted, the sight of this would've made him hard again.

sukuna lets go of you and lets your legs rest on the bench, as you're still panting from the exertion, mind numb from that last orgasm. he seems to loom over you for a second, before leaning down, arms caging you against the bench, knee between your legs, to kiss you on your glossy lips. it feels good, but you wouldn't want to admit that out loud to him.

"i like you." he repeats again, after breaking away from you. he wonders why it had taken him so long to admit this fact. once he got it out, it became an easy thing to say. you look at his face and he looks so pathetic in your eyes, the usual look of cockiness and mischief being wiped away. he says it as if he's pleading you, and you know what he's asking for, what he's unable to say out loud. he probably wants to be your boyfriend.

it's strange to see the puppy eyes of your literal arch nemesis, and it's also strange to hear his voice give you a love confession. it makes you mad. it makes you angry. not because you hate it, but because you don't hate it.

he sees it. he sees the instant your eyes glint with anger, and he very swiftly dodges the head butt you try to give him at the very last second.

"move, idiot," you say sharply, glaring at him.

alright, he probably deserved that one.

you stand up and fix your bra and blouse before gathering your things from the locker before leaving without another word - sukuna follows you outside in a fit of mild anxiousness.

"hey-"

"you. take responsibility and buy me some plan b pills. and a pregnancy test kit," you interrupt, looking back at him.

"...alright," he responds rather obediently, after a nervous swallow.

after you turn back around to continue walking, the tiniest smile grows on your face... sukuna looking nervous is something you never thought you'd see. maybe you can use this to your advantage.

your phone vibrates in your hand. it's from your new 'boyfriend'. a sweet message saying he's excited to see you again tomorrow. you delete the notification with a little bit of guilt on your mind. you'll leave tomorrow's issues for tomorrow.

in front of the chemist, you languidly stand around outside waiting as sukuna does as you'd asked him. truth be told, it was because you didn't want to buy them yourself, out of embarrassment. you know he doesn't care about how people sees him, so no harm done there.

when he comes back out with the bag, he holds it out to hand it over to you. but when you try to grab it, he lifts it away.

"you're gonna break up with him, right?" he suddenly asks, with a rather serious expression on his face.

you ignore the question and try to grab the bag, but he avoids you again.

"...right?" he emphasises. he doesn't intimidate you at all anymore, not after knowing about his feelings for you.

"it's none of your business?" you tell him, finally snatching the bag. he doesn't look too pleased about that answer. you take the pills quietly and shove the rest into your bag.

"okay. now go home," you shoo at him. "i'm tired."

"you haven't answered me yet," he says firmly, holding onto your wrist.

"you'll have your answer tomorrow," you reply in an exasperated tone, shaking off his grip.

"and just letting you know. if it turns out positive, i'm never speaking to you again," you warn him with a deadpan face. in the back of your mind, you're pretty anxious about it, but you know according to your cycle, today wasn't a fertile day. that, and with the pill... it should be alright.

sukuna stiffens up and opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it again.

"and don't follow me. if you do, i'll also never speak to you again."

you're not that serious about not talking to him ever again, but you believe he deserves to feel as anxious as you do.

"... i wasn't planning on stalking you anyway. jesus," sukuna mutters, kicking at the dirt on the ground.

you narrow your eyes at him, and then continue your way home.

he scratches the back of his head in frustration. it's like he's skipped a lot of steps towards you and it's coming back to bite him in the ass. ah, well. nothing he can do about it now.

sukuna starts praying that the test comes out as negative.

-

in the end, you decided to become the asshole and just break up with the guy over text. what was there to even really 'break up' anyway? it was for less than a day...

regardless, the news seems to run across the entire school and your friends begin to pester you about why. you can't tell them the truth. what could you even say? 'oh, i got railed good by the one guy i despised in school and it made me end up changing my mind'? fuck that.

he walks towards you after school with seemingly high spirits.

"so... i heard you broke it off after all," he approaches you after hearing the good news. you'd been ignoring him all day, but he's hoping you'll stop once the day was over and there was no one else around to watch them.

you continue to give him the silent treatment, walking along without sparing him a glance.

"hey," he grabs your forearm to stop you from walking.

"stop ignoring me. please."

you only spare him a glance because he added 'please'.

"...i don't see how that changes anything between us," you finally respond.

"right. surely not," he responds, voice thick with sarcasm.

"is that the correct attitude you should be taking? i broke up with him because i felt bad i fucked someone else while we were together. not because i like you back," you shoot at him, crossing your arms.

"oh, give me a break. you were barely with him for one day-"

"sukuna. do you want me to like you back?"

sukuna falls silent, looking at you with annoyance yet also simultaneous desire.

"if you want me to like you... then you need to work for it. make up for all the mean things you've said and done to me."

"...how? what should i do?" he asks, daringly, stepping forward towards you.

you wordlessly take your bag and shove it against his chest with an aloof expression on your features. it startles him for a moment, but looking at your face, he understands what you're asking of him. he slowly smirks and slings your bag over his shoulder, on top of his own.

"easy. anything else?"

"...i'm kinda hungry. take me somewhere good to eat. you pay."

"so... a date?" sukuna hums teasingly, trying to hold your hand.

"nope. you're gonna act as my lackey for a few weeks. it's payback. after that... well, we'll see," you say as you dodge his hand.

he can't wipe the smile off his face. you're clearly playing around with him, but he doesn't hate it. it's another form of attention, is it not? he'll have plenty of chances to make you his from now.

little does he know... he's the one that will become yours in the end.

you know the drill! dot points bc im lazy as fuck!!

okay well, first off the test does turn out negative, lucky for him... from then on you make him wear condoms whenever you have sex

but before that, he spends a few weeks running around to try and appease you

everybody shocked to see the big bad bully is being so obedient, and little do they know...

mmmaybe you give him little rewards every now and then, some sneaky kisses or so, just to keep him afloat... and then you withhold your body from him again

still carries your bag for you everywhere

has to deal with the frustration of not having boyfriend privileges yet... always itching to touch you but you wont allow it until you think he deserves it

sitting between his legs but not letting him be handsy with you is torture. maybe he'll break the rules a bit and hug your waist anyway

love the thought of him borderline begging for your touch because he's so hard from spending so much time being so close with you and it's been well over three weeks since he's done anything remotely sexual with you

maybe you'll feel a little turned on by his pleading that you cave in a bit, and take him to the public restrooms for a few handjobs

he will take anything he can, the opportunist...

and you'll have plenty of fun edging and toying with sukuna until he's shaped nicely into being a good obedient boyfriend for you

bully sukuna trope was inspired and set alight by @gojos-thot-patrol btw, link to his fic here... mine took a completely different path but it was a similar concept in the end ✨️👌

Masterlist

[darkbluekies]

Valentines dates with the ocs♡

warnings: none<3

A/N: i found some times on my breaks to write something small, I hope you'll like it! I hope you're going to have a sweet Valentines, I'm going to study with a course friend and then go fika with my best friend from high school ♡

Silas:

This man is is sucker for dates and would have them every night if he could. Valentines day is his favorite, though, because it gives him a reason to go all out. He'd book an expensive restaurant and let you pick whatever you want from the menu. His men would be guarding every corner of the building.

"Why there are no prices in your menu? Why do you want to know the prices? Are you paying? Who am I kidding, of course you aren't. Silly thing, aren't you cute? I'm taking you out on a date, not the other way around. Pick something."

Dr Kry:

Spending valentines in a hospital is bad enough, but not being able to spend it with anyone is even worse. Dr Kry would act like your boyfriend. He'd come into the room with roses and a box of expensive chocolates and a small gift of some sort that he'd know you would appreciate.

"It's just me, unfortunately, but I hope i can make your day good enough, despite the circumstances. These chocolates, I've been told, are quite the deal. They're exclusive ones from Belgium. Cost me a bit but if they're tasty that's all that matters. And I hope you'll like the sketchbook and the pens i got you, I know how boring it can be in here sometimes. Draw me something, why don't you?"

King Edmund:

This man does not kid around when it comes to valentines day. He will gift you pearls, jewels, clothes, flowers, pets. He will shower you in all his suffocating love and if you dare to show the slightest bit of overwhelm he'll throw a tantrum. A perfect date for him would be something away from people's eyes, maybe take a trip on the royal yacht.

"It's nice to be away for a while, isn't it? Away from everyone lusting over you. Here, I can have you all to myself. I can't imagine a more perfect valentine's day. Do you like how I've decorated? Every flower in the kingdom has been cut and put in here, all for you."

Jerry:

Unlike the others, she detests Valentine's day. She doesn't believe in showing love once a year through capitalistic marketing tactics. Why should a teddy bear with an 'i love you' heart matter more than a normal teddy bear any other day of the year? Instead, she'd make Valentine's day into "your day" where you could choose a date and Jerry is not allowed to complain. This year, you've chosen a museum.

"What? No, I'm not making faces. I'm not complaining, baby, I'm just not understanding why a blob on a canvas is more popular than actual pieces of art. But if you like them, I do too."

Hedwig:

Hedwig's almost as bad as Edmund. She'll spend a fortune on gifts for you and cling onto you all day. She'll want you to match and will treat the entire day as a date. You'll go to amusement parks, cafés, restaurants, shops and eventually ending the day at her home where the two of you will have a cosy home date.

"I'm so happy, i love you so much. Valentine's day is my favorite day, did you know that? I love when people express love. And I love expressing my love for you. I'm so glad I can spend my Valentine's with you, I wouldn't want to spend it any other way."

[happyk44]

[ID: Collection of quotes and images. Some of the material was difficult to source. Feel free to add an addendum.

Quote from Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides, translated by Anne Carson: "Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief."

Quote from The Illiad, translated by Emily Wilson: You already know the story. You will die. Everyone you love will also die. You will lose them forever. You will be sad and angry. You will weep. You will bargain. You will make demands. You will beg. You will pray. It will make no difference. Nothing you can do will bring them back. You know this. Your knowing changes nothing. This poem will make you understand this unfathomable truth again and again, as if for the very first time.

Painting titled "The Pit" by Aron Wiesenfeld: A figured cloaked in many layers of long white and sheer fabric stands at the edge of a water-filled pit. The pit is lined with stone. Grass and flowers grow all around, but fade off into pure darkness towards the back.

Image of unknown origin or media: A bouquet of many different types of white flowers against a black background. In the center, thin outlines of rectangles overlap each other and the flowers, almost as if to mimic a glass vase.

Text reading: my bones whimper at the thought of what could have been. what could have been if i was not born in a grave?

Text reading: Grieving, grieving, constantly grieving I mourn what could have been, what will not be, what I can't save.

Quote from "The Truth About Grief" by Fortesa Latifi: All my grief says the same thing - this isn't how it's supposed to be. And the world laughs, holds my hope by my throat, says: but this is how it is.

Quote from Maurice Sendak: I had a brother who was my saviour, made my childhood bearable.

Quote from "Killing Flies" by Michael Dickman: I sit down for dinner with my dead brother again This is the last dream I ever want to have

Quote from "Killing Flies" by Michael Dickman: "I'll look More and more like him Until I'm older Than he is

Text reading: And now I'll have to remember you for longer than I've known you.

Picture of burned pages from a notebook

Painting of a lamb on a table. Its legs are bound together. Light shines in a strip down the table and against the lamb, but otherwise the painting is dark. There is a small ring above its head in the darkness, as though a halo.

Image of unknown origin or media: It depicts white flowers

Quote from“Sacrifice” by Bilal Al-Shams: i am both the sacrificial lamb and the executioner. the scapegoat and the swordslayer. the one screaming and the angel of death

Quote from "Will Grayson, Will Grayson" by John Green and David Levithan: "I am awful. I am heartless. I am scared that these things are actually true."

Quote from "Last Sext" by Melissa Broder: I ask god to send a swordsman / and god says 'look at your hands'

Quote from "Psalm of Scattered Ashes" by Ashley Mares: is the blood on your hands dry? Is it slowly disappearing? Mine isn't.

Quote from Audre Lorde: "I feel it's my anger that has helped keep me alive,"

Text reading: Anger can also be a substitute emotion. By this we mean that sometimes people make themselves angry so that they don't have to feel pain. People change their feelings of pain into anger because it feels better to be angery than it does to be

Painting titled "The Fallen Angel" by Alexandre Cabanel: A painting of Luficer after his fall from heaven. The picture has been cropped to close in on his face. His arm is raised, shielding the lower half of his face from view but his angry eyes are visible, brows narrowed. A single tear wells up in the corner of his eye and drips down the side of his nose.

Painting from the Peripety serie by Jen Mazza: Three bloody hands embrace each other.

Quote from Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia by Marya Hornbacher: I did not like to be toouched, but it was a strange dislike.I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break.

/end ID]

About wocwog HJ. I love him. He's so raw, and there's so much pain and rage.

[pricegouge]

shovel talk

it's not even six in the morning and yet the shovel grates across the walkway, grit of pebbles beneath its steel edge scraping and catching. it balks in unsteady hands, tries again with another drawn out rasp before meeting the wall of the bank. trembling as it rises, it spills a portion its spare load back across the pavers before being tipped meticulously atop the mountain of snow that runs parallel the walk. she lets the shovel fall carelessly ahead of her and grits her teeth, rises an inch and scoots forward minutely, dragging the cheap lawn chair she's been perched on along by a hand shoved between her knees, gripping the seat. it scrapes just as much as the shovel, heavy with implication. she's not even wearing a proper jacket, just a flannel over a zip up hoodie, the wool weave of her button up already beaded with melted snow.

she looks ornery and mulish, but so are you and you can't just keep walking past.

clear blue eyes turn on you when you call to her, ask if you can help. her hands might shake but her gaze is level, taking you in from head to toe before scooting herself along another inch. "shouldn't be doin' that," she advises, voice croaky in her old age.

"neither should you," you counter, nodding at her makeshift mobility aid. it teeters when she turns to chuckle at you, though she hides it in a cough. stubborn old bat, you can already tell.

"anyway my son will be here soon."

pursing your lips, you look the walk over properly. the poor woman's already done over half of it - how late is the son exactly? but you don't comment on it, step closer when her shovel catches on a shelf of ice instead. "give it here, please," you offer rather diplomatically. she frowns apprehensively but does as told, shuffling her seat back a smidge to give you room to work. it takes a couple tries but you catch the bottom edge of the ice, ply it back and huck it over the bank easily enough. it thunks as it sinks through the snow, a real ice breaker.

"and here i'd pegged you for some soft, sweet thing," she laughs, sheepish.

"must've loosened it for me," you shrug, and turn to finish the walk while she's distracted, laughing herself into a minor coughing fit. "should you go inside?" you offer, unsure if it's a good suggestion seeing as that would leave some strange woman alone on her front lawn.

thankfully she just waves you off as she calms herself down, heavy breaths clouding around her like the smoke that's probably catching up to her. "can't. gotta take credit for your work when my son gets here."

"oh, i see how it is," you snark, and purposefully leave a good quarter inch on the paver, a base level that will freeze solid soon enough and create another sheet of ice for her to struggle with in the future.

she just eyes you, thin eyebrow pulled low on a once-heavy brow. she may be old and frail but it's a sort of sternness that doesn't dull with age and you can only smile to yourself as you fix it. no wonder her son still comes by to help. "he running late?" you ask conversationally, nod up the path where she's already done most of the work by way of explanation when she hmm's at you.

"oh, no. he'll be two hours early, probably. which is why i'm out here three hours early. a woman's got to have her pride, after all."

you nod along as if that's reasonable. "well what's he gonna do when he gets here, then?"

"fix my water heater," she gripes. "say, you wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

it earns an unladylike snort from you, but you don't think she's the type to mind. "'fraid not."

the stoop is easy enough, just a quick swipe to clean the steps. you note the name above the door with some interest, a misplaced desire to keep tags on her, come back and check maybe. "got any salt, mrs. price?"

she motions you toward the open garage behind her but sticks a hand out for help as you pass. her grip is surprisingly strong on your forearm, the fingers of her other hand digging into your tricep almost cruelly when she uses you to drag herself up. you snatch the lawn chair up before she can even try it, nod toward the garage questioningly.

"next to the overhead, please," she agrees, and you find the bucket of salt right beside it, an empty coffee can already filled and ready for dispensing. when you emerge from the garage, there's a truck parked out front.

"give me that," mrs. price hisses and you jump to find her so close, already snatching the can from your fingers. old bat can still move.

the driver's door creaks when it closes. you can only see the top of a blue beanie from over the roof of it but mrs. price doesn't wait to see him before hollering at her son. "i thought you wouldn't be here until nine!?"

tall and burly with his mother's same stern brow, price junior rounds the corner of his truck and frowns between the two of you."and i thought you didn't like when other people shoveled for you," he counters before tacking on a quick hi pet towards you.

"hi -."

"who's shoveled for me?" she demands, motioning up the walk with another spray of salt. "did this all on my own."

he hums as he comes closer, boots crunching over the thin dusting of snow that still coats the driveway. you sincerely hope mrs. price didn't shovel all that, but judging by the banks that line the drive you suspect a service was likely hired. why they couldn't take an extra two minutes to clear an old lady's walkway you'd never know. you think maybe the son is wondering the same, the way he's inspecting the short stretch critically, but when he opens his mouth it's not at all meant to insult the snow removal service. "you're losing your touch, woman."

you're unsure who's more offended, yourself or his mother. "what's wrong with it?" you blurt, unheeding of the way mrs. price elbows you again.

"i've done a fine job," she supplies, trying to save face.

he just tilts his head at her patronizingly, rocks up onto his toes to appear unnecessarily bigger. "you've forgotten we're expecting more snowfall soon. you'll want to widen the walk to push the banks back, make it easier to shovel out the next storm."

this ass. "well if you'd wanted it done right, you should have shown up on time," you huff, unreasonably defensive of the quick job you'd done.

he's still got that insufferable expression on when he turns to you, but you think you see an edge of something playful glimmering in his clear blue eyes, that same expression his mother had worn when she'd asked if you could perhaps also take his job fixing her water heater. "'on time' would be hours from now," he reminds you. "would you have had this all fixed by then?"

the worst part is, calling him out on the insult would mean admitting you'd done it, and you're suddenly very aligned with this man's mother re: his versus her pride. instead you turn his own words back on him, leaning close to your new friend to ask her if she's going to take that.

she chuckles. "oh, don't mind him. john here's just scared because he knows his job is at risk."

you watch john frown between the two of you, the furrow between his brows deepening in a way which brings you too much pleasure. part of you wants to stay, keep carving away at his pride, but you're now running late for work and you still have a few blocks to walk. "well, it was lovely to meet you, mrs. price," you say with an overly formal shake of her hand.

"pleasure doing business," she agrees with a wry smile. "see you again bright and early next snow storm."

john doesn't budge to let you pass, instead squints down at you in open assessment. you note his cheeks are rosy with the cold and you briefly hope he gets stuck outside fixing the damn walk, cold wind stinging the chapped apples of cheeks which his ridiculous beard doesn't quite cover. they scrunch up when he affects a smile, lend a sort of disarmingly childish quality to the patronizing tone he still can't quite drop. it just pisses you off even more. "didn't actually catch your name," he prompts, gloved hand extended, as if attempting to continue the ruse.

"that's because i didn't give it," you chirp in your best customer service voice. you brush past him when he can only blink in confusion, the contrast between your words and your tone evidently too much for him to process so early in the morning.

"she usually pays me with breakfast if you want to stick around!" he calls after you, far too late to start acting sweet.

you nearly slip in your haste to spin around and fix him with an overly saccharine smile. "oh, i already ate. got here at five," you lie, just to watch his face crumble into genuine concern.

behind him, his mother's thin mouth twists into a cheshire grin and you stumble away before she can solidify any real plans.

too bad she's just as stubborn and ornery as you.

too bad john's worse than both of you.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

now on a3 HERE

.

“Holy crapsticks, Derek! Some sort of warning of your imminent wolfy arrival wouldn't go amiss you know? You do own a cellphone—I've seen it with mine own two eyes!”

Derek goes to close Stiles's window, turning his head first to hide his almost-smirk.

“Hey, are you laughing at me?” Stiles asks, affronted.

Derek obviously hides it badly. Or maybe Stiles is just better at catching him out than most people.

Stiles whips off one of his socks, balls it up, and launches at Derek's head. Derek catches it easily before fully turning back around. He then sniffs at it, eagerly, just to gross Stiles out.

It smells—nice, honestly.

Stiles gags. “Oh my God, you are such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one,” Derek shrugs.

He kind of can't help himself. It's fun getting snarky with this shithead kid, and it's been a while since he's known what fun looks like.

Derek's an asshole. And he's selfish. Does selfishness makes you an asshole by association? Whatever. He figures he's allowed to be a selfish asshole after everything. He stopped caring about social niceties a while back. Stiles—even if undeserving of a selfish asshole like Derek messing up his life more than it's already messed up—doesn't seem to give two shits about that sort of thing anyway.

There is also something awfully delicious about watching Stiles get riled up. That little jackrabbit heart of his thumping even faster against his frail, human ribcage; those usually pale as the moon cheeks flushing hard as he blushes beautifully from a baby pink through to a deep, blood red.

Selfish Asshole is a pretty good position to be in from where Derek is currently standing, watching a satisfyingly scarlet-faced Stiles flail his skinny arms about like an inflatable tube man outside a cheap car sales room.

He asks Derek what he wants and Derek thinks, you.

It's not exactly a revelation. He's had thoughts. Thoughts he's acted on when he's horny and has a precious few minutes to himself. He'd thought it was just a physical thing, at first.

Until the pool.

He licks at his lips and tastes both Stiles's irritation and his desire.

It's the same for him. Stiles annoys the living crap out of him, but he makes his dick hard too. Plus his heart a little soft, dammit.

It's fucking annoying.

Even more irritating is how there are rules for this shit, ones he actually finds himself wanting to abide by for once. He doesn't really know why but maybe it's because everyone he's been with since the fire has thought he was human, and he doesn't have to pretend with Stiles. Maybe he just likes Stiles more than he thought he did.

He rolls his eyes (not just at Stiles) and shucks Laura's old record bag off his shoulder before opening it and carefully taking out its contents.

“Here, take this.”

Stiles eyes him suspiciously before reaching out and taking the small-ish bundle from Derek's grasp, looking at it as though it might be poisoned. It could be for all Stiles knows, he supposes. The kid sniffs at it with only a fraction of the enthusiasm Derek had for Stiles's sock.

“Dude, why in the name of all that is sacred have you brought me a nosegay? Like, what the fuck is this shit? Looks like a really old Dolmades and smells like, like, I dunno, like somebody shoved a bunch of dead flowers in my Dan-O's jar of Italian Herb seasoning, man. Dear lord,” Stiles complains, holding the homemade smudge stick in the air between a finger and thumb as if it's a dead rat.

…which Derek very much could have gone with instead of an apotropaic charm. To be fair, if he'd chosen an offering as a token of his affections, it probably would've been something a little larger like a rabbit.

Stiles should think himself lucky.

“It's a smudge stick, you idiot,” Derek informs the kid, rolling his eyes again for good measure, and reason. His sockets perpetually ache around this dumbass.

He tosses his bag onto Stiles's desk chair, and himself onto Stiles's bed. Hiding out here a while back left him fairly comfortable around the place.

“Oh! I've read about these a ton on like, magic sites and shit, just—I never actually saw one IRL before.”

Derek scoffs. “Nobody actually says IRL in real life, genius.”

“Well they clearly do, Douchey Mc Dickbag, because I just said it, right here, right now,” Stiles sasses and pulls his tongue out at Derek.

Derek wants to bite and suck on it.

“You don't count. You're not real; you're just one of my recurring nightmares,” he sasses right back because it's fun to.

Selfish asshole.

“Awww, Der-bear! So you not only bring me what is essentially a bunch of flowers on Valentine's Day, but you dream about me too? Honestly, I didn't know you cared, big guy!” Stiles moons, clutching the smudge stick to his chest like a fool.

There's a record scratch moment where Derek has to go back over what Stiles just said.

Valentine's Day?

Before giving himself a chance to panic at the extra pressure this brings, he hears himself saying, “What if I am? And what if I do?” because maybe, actually, thinking about it, this will make it easier for Stiles.

Stiles's heartbeat stutters as he sucks in a big, staccato breath that Derek doesn't think he necessarily meant to take, and he sounds a little incredulous when he whispers, “What?” on the exhale.

Derek gets up off the bed and lopes over to where Stiles is standing, planting himself directly in front of the kid, their noses practically touching. He watches, rapt, as Stiles' cheeks go from moon rocks to rose petals to pools of blood, in a matter of seconds.

“There's white sage and sweetgrass and cedar. And yarrow. Wild indigo. Marigolds, too. And, uh, chamomile and mugwort and rosemary and bay. It's for protection. For you. Because,” he pauses, then thinks fuck it, before barrelling on. “Because I want to protect you, dip-shit,” Derek tells him and hopes, and hopes, and hopes.

I don't know who's gonna protect you from me though, he thinks as Stiles swallows. It sounds like a rock in a lake.

“Oh,” Stiles breathes, batting those long, pretty lashes up at Derek as if he has no idea what effect it has on his predatory nature.

He's never known Stiles to speak in one word sentences before now, and he thinks he very much likes knocking the sass right out of the brat like this.

Stiles squirms a little. “Um, I feel kinda bad, now,” he lies, looking down at the singular sock he's still wearing. He doesn't feel bad at all. He smells of pride and excitement and arousal. “I don't have anything to give you.”

Derek says, “Yeah you do; you started leaving your window open again, ” because they both know that ever since the pool, Stiles wants to trust Derek.

This is not a good idea, he thinks. But Derek is a selfish asshole—remember?

He licks at a canine, and Stiles whimpers.

Fuck, Derek thinks as he says, “Also, you could let me do this,” and licks Stiles from jaw to hairline, before he's nestling his entire face into Stiles's neck with a satisfied growl.

“Oh my fucking fuck, Derek, I am so nosegay for you,” Stiles literally whines, and Derek grins as he nips at the kids throat. “It's Happy Valentine's to the both of us then, I guess,” Stiles practically hums, flinging the smudge stick onto his desk before pushing Derek backwards to fall gracelessly onto his bed.

And for the first time in his life Derek thinks, thank fuck for Saint Valentine's.

.

completely unedited so pls be kind, and a very HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 💕 — awoooooooo!

[obeymeluv]

In Your Defense [PT 1 - Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi? AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length. Trying to get everyone done today. It's my last day off for a few.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

Riddle likes to think he's made great strides not being angry but hearing some utterly disgusting joke about 'how much do you cost?' sends him like nothing else ever has. This guy is tall and so unimpressive, so plain, so average that Riddle can't really recall him at all. Maybe that's just the absolute fury blurring his vision. He knows he's not breathing but his chest isn't burning near as much as his face; the heat is spreading quick and he can feel it in his cheeks and neck. Temples pounding, his vaguely aware of the growl bubbling in his chest as it threatens to slip past his clenched teeth.

Ace calls it his teapot snarl.

Before Riddle knows it, he's flown off the handle and he's going off on a rant. The whole shop is quiet, people physically backing away as he just methodically unravels everything about this cretin from outfit, posture, presence, delivery, unoriginality--everything. Honestly, he doesn't even remember everything he said. The redhead doesn't even tune back into the sound of his own voice until he ends the onslaught with, "You've just paid twenty thaumarks to embarrass yourself but that pales in comparison to the fact that you thought you had a chance with them. You should be ashamed!"

The man slinks away, sad little bag dragging off the counter.

Whispers and giggles diffuse throughout the shop. He ignores the looks that come his way, using the time to come back to himself. Riddle fixes his cute casual clothes, content with the fact you picked them out together. He catches sight of the matching rose clips on your outfit and in you hair and smiles softly. "A strawberry cookie and a cake pop, please." he clears his throat, fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

Sam had an assortment of sweets and he was going to capitalize on strawberry's popularity while he could. He saw you root through the display case, carefully considering the designs even though they were all supposed to taste the same (allegedly).

"Sure thing. Your total is 12 thaumarks. Thanks for stopping by Sam's Mystery Shop! Happy Valentine's Day!"

He hands you the thaumarks as you take the time to slide the I LOVE YOU cookie in his bag.

----

Deuce is an honors student! He is a good boy that's going to make his mother proud!

HE IS SO GOING TO PUNCH THIS MOTHERFUCKER IN THIS FACE!

His shoulders tense, fist clenching at his side. "Why, you think they're cheap? Something to be bought? What an insult!" his head snaps up as he stares down the slightly taller boy. Deuce's teal eyes turn a dark turquoise; the giddy glint of seeing you and chocolate eggs in one place turns to something sharp and steely. He hands the chocolate eggs to Ace, turning right back around to stare the creep down. Old habits die hard; he's grinding a fist into his hand.

"Aren't you the guy always complaining about limited time sales being unfair? Not my problem you missed the window." the guy scoffs, leaning back against the cashier counter. "Anyways," the guy tilts his head back and starts talking to you.

You look uncomfortable and angry that you can't handle this yourself. Professionalism and all.

"You may have caught the window but I'm about to show you the door." Deuce draws up on him with a quickness people have never seen. Not many people know about all the fights he used to get into. Gripping the guy's hair almost to the point of pulling it out, steering him like a panicked bull, Deuce all but chucks him out the front door of the shop. He turns around to walk back inside and buy his chocolate eggs but that spine-tingling feeling of someone fixing to take a cheap shot makes him pivot and nail the guy with a solid kick to the chest. The guy falls back on his butt, breath hitching.

Deuce scoffs and wipes his shoes on the step before going into the shop. The door is almost closed behind him when he hears a strained grunt. He's been in enough fights to know the guy is off the ground and making one last attempt to catch him from the back. More than done with this and just wanting his damn eggs and to say hi to you in all your festive lace, he shoulder checks the door like he's trying to shove Jack out of the lunch line (which he would NEVER, EVER DO).

The guy falls with a satisfying thud and Deuce tries his best to relax his face as he resumes his place in line. It's red from aggravation and the fact he's fishing for his thaumarks because he's forgotten what pocket he put it in. "Sorry about that," he tries to uncrumple the thaumarks a little before handing them to you. "And the face. My face. Not your face! Your face is fine! Like, you're not ugly! I just, uh--"

"Take the change, Deuce-y!" Ace is standing behind him, guiding his nervous body like a puppet. He makes Deuce grab the change and turns him around, shoving him away from the counter before he can make it any worse. "Now help me move this guy's body! He's out cold!"

---

Ace can only laugh when he hears that line. First of all, it's weak. Secondly, the dude must not have any faith in his game if the delivery depends on you being captive behind the counter. During work hours. With an obligation to be forward facing and listening to whatever he says.

"Why? You worried about your budget, buddy?" Ace laughs, hands laced together behind his head.

The guy snaps up, stick-straight. "N-No! I was just--" his face is blooming pink.

"People aren't products, bro. There's no discounts." Ace shakes his head.

"W-What I meant was, I want to take you on a date!" the guy turns back to you and flashes a big smile. All of Ace's pouty mutters fall on deaf ears. Not because he's being quiet, but because the guy is straight up ignoring him. He's not sure where the idea comes from--he'll blame it on an itchy hand--but he sneaks a couple of small candies in the guy's pocket. Sam's familiar top hat bobs into view, snaking around the shelves.

"DON'T FORGET TO PAY FOR THE STUFF IN YOUR POCKETS!" Ace felt confident in his sleight of hand tricks. It wouldn't be the first time he tricked NRC students. It's actually really easy to do. That works in his favor because if everyone can't get their story straight or agree on what they saw, he's a free man.

Sam materializes at the edge of the aisles and seems to stare into the boy's soul. "Young man, please step aside."

Ace looks like the cat that ate the canary as he moseys up to the counter and slaps the box of cherry cordials down. He buys a cherry sucker at the last second, not seeing it at first. "Thanks, Sweets!" Ace winks at you as he strolls out with the bag.

Sam nearly scares him out of his skin, leaning against the wood just outside the door. Ace finally feels the tug of shadows on his feet. "Speaking of sweets," Ace flinches and hides his ear with his blazer, groaning as Sam hooks an arm around his neck and pulls him into his chest sternly. "I understand your frustration, Little Imp. Young love is adorable in all it's wiles! But mark my words, Little Imp: if you lie about wrongdoings in my shop again, you will not come back. Clear?"

"Yes sir." Ace gulps.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Little Imp."

---

Trey isn't really surprised to hear what he just did. 'Boys will be boys', as the saying goes. Frankly, he's disappointed. He's heard smarter things come out of his little brother and sister.

He adjusts his glasses, mentally trying to relax the knot between his eyebrows.

Should he say something? Of course he wants to. It's you! He's been on the other side of the counter plenty of times and has had vivid daydreams of sticking a customer in a stand mixer. But, then again, he has a reputation to uphold and anything he does could reflect back on Riddle.

And send Riddle into a fit, giving him something else to handle.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd have the element of surprise. People--especially men--don't cook enough to know how much arm strength it takes to lift twenty pound bags of flour on the regular. Or the stamina it takes to walk said bags from Sam's shop to Heartslabyul. Even the small five-pound bag of sugar in his basket would suffice as a weapon; the sugar was packed enough to hit like a brick if he lobbed it.

Trey's running the options through his head, almost settling on just saying 'how much for you to stop?' when he sees the end of a sucker rolling between the guy's teeth. Too easy, Trey pushes his glasses up on his nose, hand hiding his smile and the quiet incantation for "Paint the Roses".

All of a sudden the guy is gagging and running for the door. You and everyone else are wondering what the hell just happened. He doesn't come back in. One brave soul suggested he had a really bad gag reflex and the sucker did him in. Only Trey knows it was a mix of sour milk and the pungent soy sauce tart nightmare he tricked Riddle into making once.

"Just this, please. Oh! And what Sam had on hold for me." Trey hands you the sugar, relishing in the brush of your hands.

"Candied violets and a bag of sugar. Twenty thaumarks, please."

"Thanks." Trey smiles at you, laying the sugar flat so his delicate, delectable candied violets don't get crushed.

"Thank you." you smile brightly, handing him the change.

----

Cater wants to gag. Normally Valentine's confessions are cute and IN THE RIGHT SETTING pickup lines are amazing. This? This is a tragedy. Mostly because there is ZERO chemistry and you look #uncomfortable.

He's big on consent since he's always looking for collabs and people to pose with on Magicam so maybe that's why this scene bothers him. Aside from the fact that you're out of this guy's league, obviously. Like, it's really an insult to your time.

'How much do you cost?' Really? You're #priceless.

His brows furrow, lips thinning as he wonders what to do. He plays with the idea of Split Card and creating a small crowd of copies to boo and jeer the guy but the store would be even more packed than it already is. Cater's green eyes twinkle as it hits him. Turning his phone longways, he zooms in on the guy and tells him to keep going because he's live on Magicam. "Don't worry! I've already got all the V-day tags on there! Everyone will see it!"

He's friends with practically everyone at NRC so this guy will be seen by everyone.

Something sick and unfriendly and satisfied swirls in him as the guy's face pales in real time. If he zooms in a little, he can get the beads of sweat in there. "I'll, uh--another time, okay?" the guy darts off and abandons his handful of candy at the register.

"Haul coming later! 'K, bye!" Cater sends a peace sign to the camera, smiling at his own face. He swipes the little chocolates into his basket nonchalantly. He's not even the biggest sweets person but those are his now!

"Gonna have a spicy Valentine's Day, huh?" you ring up the cups of spicy ramen.

"You know it!" he laughs.

"I get it. You have to balance out how sweet you are." you smirk up at him. "Twenty-four thaumarks, please."

#in love. #kiddingnotkidding. #sendhelp. #downbad.

----

Leona doesn't even know why he bothered to show up to Sam's. He could just send Ruggie to get whatever he wanted. The variety of jerky was somewhat tempting but he could just as easily take the bus and get a proper meal off campus. And yet, he stood there with a gloved hand in his pocket, tail swishing back and forth in mild agitation. His green eyes sweep over the winding line until they land on you at the front.

His cheeks warm a little and he scoffs at himself, pretending to pick through the hanging strips of sunflower seeds as the line moves. Every step gets him closer to this soft, powdery scent with just a hint of sweetness. He starts to blame it on all the chocolate and candy and sugary shit exploding out of every possible spot in the store but there's this unmistakable undertone of skin.

Your skin.

He's only caught the scent a million times while hiding from people in the Botanical Gardens. Or when he's forced to attend class, catching a hint of you in the halls.

Leona's not sure why he cares anything about you because you're not magical. You're not interesting.

You shouldn't be, but you are.

You're literally the only person he's ever met from another world. You have no context for the Sunset Savanna or the hierarchy of it. To you, everyone is impressive. He can be something to you.

Why does that matter? He doesn't even know. That's what he tells himself, anyways. You say you have no magic but Leona thinks you can read minds. The look you always give him isn't a pitying one, but a curious one that seeks to dissect him and force him to face everything he keeps shoved deep down inside himself.

Part of him is waiting for the day you pull the right thread and he comes undone in the way he knows he need but can't find the strength for. Somewhere in that knotted mess is his true feelings for you. The stuff he can't admit.

You stand admirably on your own two feet, roughing it out like Ruggie, but you're so far from the intimidating women of the Sunset Savanna. You're approachable and soft; you're built like prey but you have the quick thinking of a predator.

Something in your demeanor changes--your hands pause and flutter nervously--and he's on alert. He's careful to relax his grip lest he crush the box of protein bars for Jack. His ears sling forward and his eyes narrow as he catches that half-baked flirting attempt. Leona doesn't even bother to hide the sneer twisting his face.

Just the thought of you with that hopeful schmuck is nauseating.

Suddenly the scent of all the males around you is overwhelming. Disgusting.

"If you have to ask about the price, you can't afford it. Haven't ya ever heard that before?" Leona 'hmphs' triumphantly, one hand on his hip as he bends down slightly to stare the chump in the face. "Askin' about the price is tacky."

"Wh-what was my total again?"

All Leona had to do was stare at the back of the human's neck. Humans, much like prey animals, grew really squirmy when a predator stared at them too long. Or encroached on their space, much like he was doing. It was for the hell of it at this point.

Leona made a mental note of the guy's face as he scampered off like a terrified cub and looked forward to the day he could send a stray spelldrive disk in his direction.

"Hey Herbivore," Leona plunked the basket down unceremoniously.

"Hey Leona," you looked down at the random stuff in his basket, trying not to smile at what just happened. Something warm and--dare he say it?--proud welled up in his chest when he realized you were happy about him scaring the guy off.

The heart-shaped stickers he kept finding on everything when he got back to Savanaclaw helped, too.

----

Ruggie lived for the holiday specials at Sam's. He was a bit put out that he wasn't picked to staff the Valentine's shift but the in-store discounts were a small consolation. It'd be better if he could stack them with an employee discount but he'd take what he could get! His mouth started watering as soon as he entered, sniffing out deliciously fluffy donuts.

Hopefully people would be distracted with the lollypops and chocolates and leave his donuts alone!

He choked down the occasional nervous whine when people gravitated too close to the donut display, distracting himself with the decor and wondering what would be most profitable to flip. His eyes began to wander to the people in front of him; Ruggie tsk'd at how casual and unguarded they were. Ripe for the picking, he looked at their wallets and fistfuls of thaumarks just out in the open.

If he wasn't worried about being banned from Sam's and losing some gigs he'd--

"How much do you cost?"

EXCUSE ME?! Ruggie freezes, eyes going wide and ears twitching when he hears that. The dude said that and LIVED?

Oh, right. You're not a Savanna girl. The girls back home would beat him up and make him pay them to stop. Or just smack the shit out of him hard enough to put him in a coma. Maybe break his jaw so he can't drop anymore awful lines.

Women are to be respected! Not treated like something you can purchase!

Given that you weren't a Savanna girl and were bound by the rules of 'I'm currently on the clock', Ruggie took things into his own hands. You could just treat him later!

"Laugh with Me!" Ruggie hisses, backing into the closest display. It was a little bump to him but far more to the guy up front. He waved his arm around, skimming the bags of gummy candies while the guy at the register knocked down a whole tower of balloons on a stick. Bending over just enough to line the guy's head up with the counter, Ruggie lunges forward.

WOMP!

Oh it was so satisfying. The guy is hopelessly, helplessly stunned. He gathers his bearings and Ruggie slides his foot out; the guy loses his footing and slams into the counter again.

Only two times before he gives up? Kind of weak-willed, Ruggie thinks with a little smirk as he side-steps the disoriented guy and waits patiently to check out. Sam tends to him while you get the donuts he's been craving.

They'll taste even better because they smell like you. Happy Valentine's Day to him!

-----

Jack is usually very stoic but a lot of people mistake his stoic observation for irritation. He would blame it on his intimidating physique but he's not sorry and takes great pride in his appearance. He's a beastman--a Howl!--he's supposed to be intimidating! Intimidating appearance aside, Jack is also a very helpful soul.

A good boy, if you will.

The only reason he's in Sam's is on Ruggie's behalf. He was tasked with picking up a few things and was more than happy to help out his senior. They were from the same dorm, after all! Practically a pack! You have to help your pack!

He's not really bothered by the amount of people, more focused on keeping his tail out of people's way and making sure he doesn't knock anything over. All at once, the atmosphere changes a little. There's a hint of sour in the air and a noticeable hike in someone's pulse.

It's your pulse. You look...distressed? Why are you distressed? Where is the threat?

Whatever it was, he missed it and he's cursing himself.

His ears swing forward as he catches bits and pieces of conversations. Some people are complaining the guy is taking too long, other people are laughing at his crappy pickup line. Some people are wondering if it's going to work.

This was a weak display if he ever saw one. The guy didn't even look confident in himself! All of your body language has now firmed up into rejection but the guy's not getting the hint. He's trying the 'oh, c'mon!' thing his siblings do when they want to play.

You don't know it, but you've been feeding Jack when he trots by in wolf form. He likes to finish off his morning jogs in wolf form to really stretch his joints and obliques. It was supposed to be a one-off thing, him following the tantalizing aroma of food to your door. Your cooking is fantastic and while you don't know that you're a pack mate, you're a pack mate!

You're just a pack mate who feeds him and gives him occasional pets. And these to die for scratches that he'd kill to feel with his real skin instead of fur. Any touch would be fine, really. Not that you'd ever know.

Jack doesn't even know he's growling until people start moving out of his way. The growl crescendos as he walks towards the guy. Tail bristling, Jack opens his mouth to show off sharp canines. "Get lost! They're not interested in you! They're just trying to work!"

As expected, the guy tucks tail and runs. Jack snorts, licking his lips that have suddenly become dry. His ears don't know what to do, caught between catching all the murmurs behind him and wanting to press down in embarrassment.

It's quiet but he hears it. "Thank you, Jack."

"Don't mention it," he crosses his arms, looking everywhere but you as you scan his items. He was avoiding looking at you directly but he notices you slip a few extra beef sticks into his bag. He blushes.

Yeah, don't mention that either.

[humunanunga]

I'm gonna take this opportunity to give a shoutout to Asimirus, as in Assimilation Papyrus, created by @mechagic and (unless I missed anything) adopted by @tv-channel-x!

I'll have to ask for permission before sharing a link to a lore draft I was linked before that they wanted to fix the writing in, so I'll paraphrase a summary:

There's meta reasons why Papyrus hasn't gotten as much attention in Sans-focused AUs, but what about lore reasons? Let's say there's a Papyrus going around and... absorbing alternates of himself into his hivemind... and every time this happens, everyone else's memories of that Papyrus are also taken away.

*Details under readmore:

*When he targets a Papyrus, Asimirus will stalk them while his hivemind– functioning like a group chat– assesses whether to "save" this one. He is driven to protect them from being forgotten like their lives depend on it, reasoning that they can't be forgotten as long as he remembers them.

The assimilation isn't always perfect, though. Sometimes his family and friends can still remember the name, but nothing about him, so Asimirus leaves behind a cardboard cutout of the absorbed Papyrus, and no one can notice the switch without memories of the real Papyrus to compare to.

He can only absorb Papyrus, however, so amalgamates like Sixbones or Comic Papyrus would be excrutiatingly slow to assimilate. And it constantly fluctuates whom among the absorbed are currently conscious.

Asimirus doesn't remember his own AU of origin, and it gives him a severe headache when he tries to. All he knows is that "saving" his alternate selves is all that matters anymore. He doesn't seem to mingle much with other outcodes, either, preferring avoiding their drama if he can help it. He can travel between universes by himself using his scarves like grappling hooks. (They also act in place of his missing arms. Perhaps one of his assimilation attempts didn't go according to plan...)

He especially keeps an eye out for any other Papyrus that can leave their universe, believing that he has to absorb them before they do because it will put them in danger, and he calls the Flowey that may accompany him Anemone.

okay so like… who’s gonna tell him…..

[sukeruton-san]

Random idea Sorta Maybe Blind

Clockwork has been teaching Danny how to do pretty much everything blind. why is unknown

Untill now

After a way too close call with his parents/GIW he almost got fully dissected! He decided to initiate plan 42 Stich wounds,Grab shit,and hall ass to Gotham. Gotham has enough ectoplasm for him to stay long term not nearly as much as Amity Park but it has enough

After one pain filled flight he arrives in a dungey bathroom in Gotham. He looks in the mirror and sees

Oh

What the fuck!?!?

Apparently even though Gotham has a decent amount of ectoplasm He didn't know he needed way more to look alive. He looks ill!?! his skin became three shades paler making his bruises and eyebags stand out more. his hair being way more wild than usual and fluffy-er? He somehow looks smaller and skinner than before, and his eyes

Oh ancients his eyes

There still blue but they're diluted they have that heavy milk quality to them and his pupils are permanently dilated. He can see but he looks like he can't

That's why Clockwork taught him how to do things blind so he can pretend to be blind! cuz there's no way people are going to believe that he can see!?!

He grabbed his bag packed and gifted from Sam, Tucker, and Jazz left the bathroom, clossed his eyes, and started to figure out what he should do.

Bruce's adoption sense seems to be tingling He wonders what that's about.

[jakedustry]

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘𝐔

IN WHICH Kim Mingyu has a plan for everything. Even you. But there are still things he can’t predict, no matter how smart he is, leading his “brilliant plan” to a disaster as his best friend falls for you — his girl.

pairing– Kim Mingyu x fem!reader ㅤㅤㅤ mentions of Wonwoo x reader

featuring– lot of seventeen members, user @adel222 as Adel, oc Hanni as Soonyoung's gf

genre– Angst, Fluff, Smut

contains– auctions, interior designer!reader, cook!Mingyu, kinda asshole!Mingyu, oh no they can't stop flirting even though they are supposed to be rivals!, rivals to lovers, loverboy!Wonwoo, Mingyu is plotting, love triangle, lots of lying, the greatest bsf!Seokmin, mentions of burn out, lots of flirting, use of pet names, lots of cursing, arguing, alcohol, two smut scenes

word count– 31k (I'm sorry)

smut warnings– breast play + worship lowk, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, oral (f. and m. receiving), hair pulling (Mingyu's hair), praise, handjob, cum swallowing

playlist

↪ izzy adds... okay, it's safe to say this was a journey. I had this idea back in September and have been developing it ever since, and honestly, it's only thanks to the lovely people I have around me that I didn't drop this back when I was at 2k. I'm so thankful to everyone who listened to me yap about this fic and even more to my beta reader who always has my back <3

There were only three men you knew the names of when it came to your most significant and expensive hobby. Jussi Pylkkänen, Tobias Meyer, and Kim Mingyu. While Kim Mingyu wasn’t anyhow famous in the auction world outside of South Korea, he was undoubtedly one to remember. 

Whenever you sat in the auction room, bidding everything you could on your favorite art pieces, it felt monotonous. It felt as if you were sitting in the room with amateurs. Others were scared to bid high, you realized during your first two weeks. They feared coming home to their families with a piece of art instead of the billions of won they had in their bank account before they left the house. 

You didn’t have those problems. Unlike other millionaires and billionaires, you weren’t born with such money. You had counted your every penny since you were fifteen, working your ass off so you could live the life you always wanted. You spent every minute of your free time building this life for yourself to be able to spend millions on art that you could sell for double the price later if you wanted to.

That was the reason you got to where you are right now. You knew your way around with money. You studied how to make the most out of things. You understood how to talk well and influence people. But most importantly, what might have been your most substantial advantage in this industry, was that you were a woman. 

And men were naive. 

It only took a glance, maybe a little smile, to have whoever you wanted wrapped around your finger. When you did find a suitable opponent who wasn’t scared of bidding some money on what he wanted, he’d let you have whatever you asked for the moment you just so slightly leaned forward in your place, revealing a bit of your chest. 

Yet, there was still one man you didn’t get to toy around with. Kim Mingyu. Why? You were asking yourself the same question. Even though, deep down, you knew the answer.

He was the same as you. 

He toyed with people. And he enjoyed it. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

It was your third auction when you heard his name for the first time. 

“Fuck, he decided to join too?” You turn around as you hear the chatters behind you, sipping on the glass of wine you have been holding for the past ten minutes. “Oh hell no, I am out. I heard Mr. Yang had spent over 200 million ₩ last month because they had some deal together, and then he took everything! Yang hasn’t shown up at any auctions since! I heard he had lost everything!” 

Your ears perk up as you listen to their conversation, slowly heading toward the two males you’ve been watching. “Mind me joining you, boys?” You bat your eyes at them with a smile, making it almost impossible for them to refuse. 

“Kim Mingyu. That’s his name,” the taller of them explains, and you notice how he straightens his back when your eyes shift to his figure. You smile at him, tugging the right side of your hair behind your ear. Something you’ve learned over the years. For a reason unknown to you, men found it attractive. “So, this Kim Mingyu… What’s his deal?” 

Such a simple question, and yet, no one seems to know the answer. 

“I heard he wants to dominate the auction industry.” — “His deal… don’t you want to know my deal instead?” — “No one knows how he does it!” — “Oh, I wish I knew. I’ve been trying to find out what he does to screw around with these people too. Let me know if you have any luck.” 

You sigh, leaving from another group of guys. You’d started at least twelve conversations by now, hoping to find out more about The Legend, as they all called him, but all you got from it were guys trying to flirt with you or tell you you were too young to be at auctions. 

“Care for a drink?” 

“I’m sorry, but if you excuse me, the auction is about to begin,” you try to decline his offer politely but stop when you turn around to face the male behind you. A face you don’t recognize. His tall figure leans over you, and you watch as dark strands of his hair fall in front of his eyes. “And what better way is to start an auction if not with a fine glass of wine?” He smiles. Only a half-genuine smile, you figure. Still, you nod to him, placing your hand on his arm when he offers. 

You didn’t know who you were messing with back then. You saw a pretty face to toy around with and thought that was your win. 

You thought you could wrap Kim Mingyu, the Legend Kim Mingyu, around your finger. 

You smile as he hands you the glass of white wine, commenting on the fact that it goes well with your dress. “I am not quite sure I caught your name, by the way,” he says casually once you hold his arm again, making your way towards the bidding room. It sounded rehearsed, as if he had said it a thousand times in the same spot. But you knew that wasn’t the case because, excluding you, there were only five other women, all of whom he was avoiding eye contact with. 

Maybe it was his personality then, you think. 

Your name slips past your lips in a heartbeat before you can even rethink it or come up with a pen name. “Well,” your name sounds better on his lips, more elegant. “What are you looking for tonight?” Now that was cheap, you tell yourself. A chuckle escapes your lips as you shake your head slightly, looking up at him to see his face. His eyes don’t tell you he wishes your answer to be him, though. “Well, I bet you’re aware of the pieces in the auction tonight. They are all beautiful, but…” 

“But there is one that has your attention,” he adds before you can continue, making you nod. “Number six,” you inform him, your eyes shifting to the empty seats in the room.

“Number six is what I am taking home tonight.” 

You don’t turn to look at him again, not until his arm escapes your grip and he stands in front of you. “We’ll see about who it will come home with. Seems like we have a similar taste,” he smiles again, excusing himself as he walks away without another word. He doesn’t share his name with you, but you don’t mind. You don’t plan on seeing him again after this auction. 

You take a seat around the middle row. Not too far back, but also not in the very front. You notice the black-haired boy three rows ahead, calmly watching the front. The few chairs beside him are empty, and no one seems to be thrilled with having to sit next to him. You scoff, shaking your head at the loser you thought you found, and look at the moderator instead. 

Number six was yours. 

You sit silently throughout most of the bidding, only trying twice at the very beginning when prices weren’t high yet, but stop eventually, leaving others to take it. You didn’t care much about other art pieces. And, the less you bought before the painting you want turned up, the more money you would have to spend on it. 

You look down onto your lap, where your phone is, sighing upon seeing the black screen with no new notifications. “4 million.” You glance up again as you hear the bid, your eyes shifting from the taller boy from before to the painting on the podium. Your eyes widen, and you immediately raise your number card. “4.5 million.” The moderator doesn’t even have a chance to speak before the male raises his number again, doubling your amount. Another number, a new one, raises his hand, the words ten million leaving his lips. You grit your teeth, raising your number card to bid again, but before you can offer your price, the dark-haired male is talking again, increasing the bid on his own. 

“Alright then,” you mumble, raising your number greater so the moderator would notice you. You take a deep breath, ignoring the enthusiastic smile on the male’s face as he watches you. “20 million.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, praying no one would raise the bid again. 20 million won was already way over what you planned to spend when you arrived. The painting’s worth was 40 million, 43 at best. It would be irrational to spend any more than what you paid. It would be dumb to spend more than fifty percent of the painting’s worth. 

Still, you hear a voice again, and it isn’t the moderator. For fucks sake. “I’ll take it for 30.” 

You couldn’t. You didn’t have that kind of money to spend on a painting. Even though you’d love to have it home, hanging over your bed or in your living room, knowing it could get you money if you ever got into a crisis, you just couldn’t. 

And so, you watch the dark scenery turn white as the staff comes on the podium, hiding the painting with a white sheet. The dim gray mountains disappear right before you, making you shut your eyes immediately so you wouldn’t have to watch them carry it away, knowing you’d never see it again. Whisper of Hope. You scoff at the name. Right. That was hardly true when your hope disappears in the blink of an eye. 

But as you close your eyes, the painting comes back to you. The light that pierced through the murky clouds and the mountains covered in snow, you see it all. It helps you remember why you wanted it in the first place. There was always a feeling in that painting, a quiet sense of peace that made you feel like everything would be alright, even if it never really was.

You snap out of your thoughts as you hear the moderator speak up again. “Number six sold out to Kim Mingyu, number 89.” Your eyes widen, and you immediately redirect your attention to the dark-haired male three roads ahead. His eyes are already on you, a smirk spread across his lips as he bows his head slightly, as if his manners only came back to him now. 

You scoff, realizing this was his “Nice to meet you.” You have finally met Kim Mingyu in all his glory. 

And you hated him.

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“Aren’t auctions just another form of gambling?” You raise your eyebrow as you face your best friend—Seokmin. He shrugs when he notices the look on your face, glancing around the room for some help from your other friends. “I get where he is coming from,” Soonyoung nods, making you roll your eyes. Of course, he knows where he’s coming from. 

“Care to give me a proper explanation as to why then?” You encourage the two of them, making Jihoon turn around on your computer chair so he could face the rest of you, interested in what you all could possibly have to say. 

“I mean,” Seokmin starts, clearing his throat. “You have to pay even to be able to join the auction, and you can’t possibly know if you will walk away with something or not.” – “And you can also pay a ton of money for something just to find out its value is way lower than you thought,” Soonyoung adds, nodding to prove Min’s point. 

“Okay, so it can be a bit risky,” you agree whilst rolling your eyes. “But really, you would be an idiot not to do proper research about the value of things before buying anything.” 

“I’ve seen people,” Jihoon shrugs. “Remember Mr. Lee? I spoke to his wife a few weeks ago. They got divorced when he lost all of their money because he believed a stranger and invested in some company that went bankrupt.” Seokmin’s eyes widen, and his jaw practically hits the floor, making you scoff. “As in my favorite convenience store owner…ever?!” Jihoon nods, and the youngest boy whines. “You’re kidding me!” 

“Swear on Soonyoung’s girlfriend.” The boy immediately looks up, “Hey!” You laugh, as you always do when you’re around them. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend. We are fighting right now…” he mumbles, looking down at his lap again. 

Your smile slowly fades away, exchanging a look with Jihoon. “About?” You ask, raising your eyebrow. They never fought. All their arguments were about the stupidest things ever. You doubted it was anything serious this time. “She thinks I’m not spending as much time with her as I used to. We also fought about this one girl from work. It’s been a bit hectic,” he answers shortly. “But I know you guys don’t care about that. How’s your recent project been doing?” He tries to brush it off with a smile—a painfully fake one. 

“No, rewind. We do care,” Seokmin assures him, anxious at the sudden mood change. You can’t help but pity your friend. They never fight. That’s right. They never went through anything huge, so he never had to deal with something like this. “Hoshi,” you call out softly by his favorite nickname ever, making him look up. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No, not really,” he admits. “Thanks, though.” You nod, telling him there’s nothing to thank you for. 

It’s quiet for a bit after that. It feels as if you were all scared to break the silence. Too afraid to say something stupid when your friend’s eyes look so painful.

But Hoshi didn’t see it like that. “Oh my god!” He exclaims all of a sudden, catching you off guard. “I completely forgot to tell you! Hansol is throwing a party at his house next month. He’s finally planning to ask the girl he has had a crush on for months out,” he explains as if nothing ever happened. A part of you feels relieved. After all, this was the chaotic Soonyoung you were worried about. The same guy that jumped into your pool fully naked last winter because of a stupid bet. It wouldn’t be like him to stay down for the rest of the day. 

The conversation only flows after that, and you know not even Jihoon, who has been trying to ignore you all and work on his new project can focus on anything when Soonyoung and Seokmin laugh so much over a joke Hoshi said ten minutes ago. You smile as you watch the three people closest to you. Every time you sit with them like this you feel grateful to have them by your side. 

Jihoon chuckles, shaking his head at them. When your eyes meet his, you know he feels the same way. Happy, thankful, and delighted. It all shows in his eyes, no matter how nonchalant or unimpressed he wants to look. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

The following morning, you find yourself waiting for Soonyoung to pick you up at your place. He reached out to you soon after getting home the day before, asking to grab a coffee in the morning before work and talk. You couldn’t say no to him even if you wanted to. Waking up a bit earlier to go grab a cup of coffee with your friend wasn’t something you would hate to do anyway. 

You sit on your couch, your leg bouncing on its own as you intensely stare at the project in progress in front of you. The sketch is barely started, and you need to turn in the finished design in three days. You sigh, running your fingers through your hair. No matter how long you stare at it, nothing comes to you. It’s as if there was some wall in front of you, preventing you from being able to see anything. 

You give up, spreading on the couch and grabbing your phone instead. As you’re about to text your friend and ask where he is, you hear the doorbell ring, announcing his arrival. “Coming!” You yell back, quickly shoving your phone in your pocket and getting up. You glance at the papers on your coffee table once more before grabbing your bag and leaving it behind for later. That was a problem for the future you. 

“Hey,” The older boy greets you as soon as you open the door. You smile at him, quickly taking your keys and hiding them in your bag. “Ready to go?” He asks, and you nod.

“So I obviously told her there was nothing between us and that she doesn’t need to worry, but for some reason she just doesn’t believe me,” Soonyoung whined, ranting about the fight he and his girlfriend are going through. “I tried to talk to her and explain everything she worries about, but she doesn’t want to listen to me. It’s as if she wants us to fall apart. I don’t know what to do anymore,” he mumbles, creating a pitiful frown on your face. You can’t help but feel sorry for him. 

“It’s hard if she doesn’t want to listen to you…” you comment, trying to think of a way to help him. “I mean, I don’t know what’s going through her head, right, but maybe, next time, just don’t mention anything about why you guys are fighting. Take her on a date instead. Do something nice for her. Show her how much you love her, and I’m sure she’ll stop doubting you.” 

Soonyoung falls silent, thinking about what you said. When was the last time he gave his girlfriend flowers without a reason? How long has it been since they had time for a proper date? Honestly, he wasn’t sure. 

“God, you’re right. I need to have a date with her,” he breathes out, disappointed in himself. “Thanks,” he smiles again. “For reminding me,” he adds as his smile turns into a laugh, putting you at ease. You felt like that whenever you heard him laugh, especially in situations like this. He always made you remember that you have to enjoy the moment you’re in and not overthink everything. “I’ll pay for your coffee for that.” 

“I can’t pass on that, can I?” 

The café is right behind the corner, so it takes you almost no time to reach your destination. You’re laughing when you enter the small shop, not paying much attention to the people around you. “Maybe if he actually made an effort,” you roll your eyes. “Well, maybe if someone didn’t block him after the first date, he could have,” Soonyoung laughs even harder, walking over to the register to order your and his drinks. 

“As if,” you scoff, turning around to find a place to sit, but as you do, you stumble over a foot. Foot that isn’t yours. You don’t get a chance to react, your eyes widening as gravity fails you, taking you down. Thankfully, before you can reach the floor, you feel someone’s arms wrapping around your waist tightly, ensuring you won’t fall. You blink a few times, your eyes meeting the tall guy. “Hello,” you pipe, swallowing a lump in your throat. 

“Hi,” he smiles, clearing his throat awkwardly and helping you stand straight again. “I’m sorry, that was completely my fault,” he apologizes, his eyes landing on the dark stain on your blouse. He must have spilled his drink on you while catching you. “It’s okay,” you assure him, noticing where he was looking. “Shit,” you curse quietly, quickly searching for a bathroom with your eyes. “If you excuse me,” you apologize when you find your target, meeting his eyes again. “Wait, let me help you,” the black-haired male offers. His hair is neat, his forehead exposed, and he is dressed in a dark blue suit. He looks flawless. A part of you feels annoyed by how perfect he looks. Even the glasses fit him perfectly. “No need,” you shake your head. “Thank you for offering, though,” you smile politely, quickly getting to the bathroom. 

“Well, that was embarrassing,” you sigh as you join Soonyoung at a table for two he picked out. “It was funny,” he laughs. “I watched you from the counter. You had sparks in your eyes!” He slides your cup with caramel macchiato forward, a teasing smirk on his face as he sips at his cup of coffee. “I did not,” you roll your eyes. 

Honestly, you might have. You can’t remember much about the situation. You only see the boy and his stupid smile when you close your eyes, unable to think about anything else. 

“And now you’re blushing,” he comments with a chuckle. “Isn’t this what Seokmin would call love at first sight? I hope you got his name, if nothing else.” You shake your head, sipping on your iced drink. “You’re overreacting. It’s not love, admiration, or even a tiny crush. If anything, he is just someone who ruined my favorite blouse,” you point out the stain, trying to sound annoyed. You’re sure Soonyoung can see right through your bullshit, though. Because a big part of you wishes you had asked for his name. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“How’s the project been going, by the way?” Soonyoung asks, walking beside you toward your company. “Last week you mentioned something about being stuck,” he mumbles, the empty plastic cup still in his hands. “Still the same,” you sigh. “I guess I finally know what it feels like to have an artist block,” you laugh it off. “I might end up passing the project onto someone else. It’s not like I need the money right now anyway.” 

“No need to rub it in my face,” he rolls his eyes. “Just retire at this point and draw the paintings you buy yourself. Isn’t that what you always wanted to do, anyway?” You fall silent, staring at the ground under your feet. “No,” you disagree, but you can’t look him in the eyes. “Ah, I thought–” You quickly shake your head, stopping him before he couldn’t dig too deep into it. “No, you thought wrong. I like designing, and I like where I am now. If I became an artist, I might not even have a place to live now.” 

Hoshi is caught off guard, shutting his mouth when he finally notices your facial expression. He didn’t even realize it at first, but it seemed like he had found a weak spot. “Okay,” he mumbles, nodding confusedly. “If you’re happy, then that’s all that matters.” 

Soonyoung is quick to change the conversation, talking about anything and everything that comes to his mind at the moment to keep you distracted, but it doesn’t work out like he would want to. All you can think about are his words. If you’re happy, then that’s all that matters. You’d like to think you are happy right now. You have amazing friends, a great job, and most importantly—freedom. You live like many people wish for. You would be stupid not to be happy. 

So why do you keep thinking about what-ifs? Why do you always wonder how your life would look if you chose to continue painting back in high school? 

“Okay, I’m going to leave you to it now,” he smiles, stopping in front of your company. “Good luck. With everything.” You smile back at him, opening your arms so he can hug you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders while he squeezes your waist, making you laugh. “Thank you, once again,” he adds, slowly letting you go. “No need to,” you shake your head. “I should be the one thanking you for my coffee.” 

You wave him goodbye with a smile, sighing as you look at the front door. I’m happy, you remind yourself. There’s nothing more you would need in your life. Nothing was missing in your life. 

You take a deep breath, walking in with a smile as you greet the lady at the reception.

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

You sit in your office, trying to develop the idea for the Millers’ project on your laptop. It’s not until the loud ring of your phone gives you an excuse to think about something else. “Yes, Chan?” You hum, accepting the call from your assistant. “Ah,” you nod, looking at the clock on your wall. “You can send him in. I’ll hear him out and see,” you agree, hanging up again. Maybe a new project is just what you need at the moment. 

“Good morning,” you smile, reaching out your hand for the man opposite you to shake. “Morning, and nice to meet you,” he smiles back, shaking your hand. Your assistant stands behind him, giving a faint smile toward you, too. “This is Mr. Xu. He asked specifically for you to design his new house,” he explains, batting his eyes at you, almost making you laugh. He looks proud. “Alright, let’s look at it,” you agree, showing him the way to your table. 

“Can I get you something? A cup of coffee, tea, or water?” You offer, sitting down on your chair. You move your laptop to the side, along with some of your documents for the Millers’ project. “Tea would be nice, thank you.” You nod, glancing toward your assistant. Chan nods, turning on his heel and heading to the cafeteria to prepare everything. 

“So, do you have the house plans with you?” You ask, and he immediately pulls out his phone, looking for something. You mentally sigh, glad he came somehow prepared. If only all of your clients were like this. “It’s a two-story house. We were thinking of making this room the guest bedroom, then the bathroom, and then the living room and kitchen,” he says, pointing at each of the rooms as he shows you the main floor plans on his phone. He switches to the second floor with a simple click when he sees you nod, pointing out at the room in the left top corner, right next to the stairs. “This should be another bathroom, and here, right next to the balcony, I’d like to have our bedroom,” he explains. 

“What about these two rooms?” You ask, pointing at the room next to the bathroom and the second room leading to the balcony. “This will be my studio. And this will be a joint office for me and my fiance, ” he clears out. “Studio?” You wonder, looking at the house plans on his phone. “An art studio. I do art for a living,” he answers casually. He can see the sparks in your eyes almost right away, scoffing. He might have just won you over. 

“I’ll design the house for you,” you agree without another second of hesitation. “Are you looking for all the rooms or…?” You question, glancing at him again. He’s smiling at you, and it causes you to frown for a second. “Everything, if possible. I’m not sure how much experience you have with studios, but I would still appreciate it if you tried.” 

Chan comes back soon after, placing two cups of green tea on the table. “I’m sorry for interrupting,” your assistant clears his throat. You look up at him, questioning what he needs with your eyes. “The Millers called. They want to see how their project is doing,” he informs you, and you try your best to stay professional and not break down right in front of your client. “Come here when I’m done talking to Mr. Xu, and we’ll talk about it,” you decide, intuitively glancing at the empty draft on your laptop. Chan doesn’t push you anymore and nods, sending you a good-luck smile before leaving your office. 

“So, you were saying,” you turn to your client again, encouraging him to continue and tell you his ideas for the design. 

“Mind if I ask how you found me?” You ask, rising from your chair as the conversation with Mr. Xu comes to an end. “Through a friend’s recommendation,” he replies casually. You nod, then reach for a business card from the stack on your desk, handing it to him with a slight smile. “I’m glad your friend was satisfied with my work, then,” you say. “If you have any new ideas or want to discuss the project further, don’t hesitate to reach out. I might not always be available for a call, but my assistant’s number is right below mine.” He nods, offering a brief but polite goodbye before exiting your office. 

You sigh as you close the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment with your eyes closed. The thought of meeting Chan makes your stomach turn, but the idea of facing the Millers is even worse. You can not meet them. How could you? After two months of working for them, how do you tell them you’re done, that you don’t want to design their house anymore? The thought of it makes you sick. Not only would it be awkward, but it could cost you everything. Your career. All the work you’ve put in to get your name out there. You can’t afford that, not after everything. 

Your breath shakes, but you try to pay little to no attention to it. You need to figure it out somehow and collect yourself again. Otherwise, the tiniest next problem will be your breaking point. You fix your hair as if that was supposed to fix everything and return to your desk. Your assistant is just a call away, but you don’t dial the phone. Not immediately at least. Instead, you move your laptop back before you, forcing yourself to come up with something first. 

Minutes turn into an hour, and you never grab the phone to call your assistant. It’s as if you’re in a daze, finally getting the ideas you’ve been searching for. You only managed to finish the living room, but you're grateful for even as much. As you save the folder, leaning back in your chair to relax, the sound of the office door opening makes you groan.

“I hope you’ve been working and not lazing around until now.” You meet eyes with your assistant, rolling your eyes. “I didn’t call you, did I, Chan?” You raise an eyebrow, but it doesn’t budge him a bit. “We seriously need to talk about the Millers’ project,” he glares at you to let you know he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “You haven’t submitted a single draft since we accepted the deal. Mr. Miller is worried, and he wants results soon.” You sigh, unable to say anything in your defense. “I talked to him and asked for more time, but you have to show him at least somehow finished design during the next month.” 

“Thank you, oh my god!” You jump up, running around the table to get to him. “I love you, Chan. Oh my god!” You yell again, making him scoff as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Sure, sure,” he shakes his head. “You seriously have to do something, though. Got it? I can’t keep defending you every time.” You nod, promising to get it done soon. 

“Also,” he clears his throat, averting his gaze. “Don’t mention any of this in front of the guys. They’d tease me until I die.” You laugh, squeezing him once more before you let him go, stepping back. “I promise I won’t tell them anything. I’ll stay the only one knowing you can actually be useful sometimes,” you grin, making him roll his eyes. “I hate you.”

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

You’re unsure why, but the following day you find yourself in the same café as yesterday. 7.45 am, just like the day before when you stopped by with Soonyoung. 

“So? Was it worth it?” Lee Chan asks as you’re about to order your coffee. “An iced caramel macchiato, to-go please,” you tell the younger lady behind the counter, ignoring your assistant’s question. You take out one of your earphones to hear her when she talks back to you, doing your best to ignore Chan’s continuous bugging. “That will be 4 750₩.” You pay with your phone, stepping aside so the next customer can order. 

“Okay, yeah, it wasn’t worth it,” you finally mutter, picking at the skin on your fingers. You still don’t know why you came back here. For some guy whose name you didn’t even know? You couldn’t have been that foolish, could you? You wouldn’t have sunk that low, right? 

It’s been a while since you’ve been in a relationship—or just gone out on a date with someone honestly. That must have been it, you convince yourself. Why else would you act so desperate? He was just a handsome guy who caught your attention due to the lack of gentlemen in your life. After your friends, who would use every chance they got to make fun of you and make your life a bit harder, he was a nice change. That’s all. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

Yet, you step into the café the next day too. 

“Iced caramel macchiato?” The barista tries to remember your order when she sees you. You smile, nodding. You unlock your phone to pay, but before the lady can tell you your total, male’s voice interrupts you, his arm brushing against your own as he stops beside you.. “Make it two, please. I’ll pay.” Your eyes widen when you look up to see his face, holding back your smile when you notice the same boy with glasses you did two days ago. “Hi,” he greets you softly, smiling before he turns to the barista again to pay. 

“What did we get again? I was so caught up in getting to the counter I barely listened to what you ordered,” he says with a light chuckle, eyeing the drink in his hands. “Caramel Macchiato. It’s my favorite,” you reply, leading the way to one of the tables. “I see,” he nods, taking a sip as he follows you. 

When you sit down, he asks for your name, settling into the chair opposite you. He smiles, repeating your name to make sure he remembers it. “I’m Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo,” he says, extending his hand across the table for you to shake. “Nice to meet you, Wonwoo,” you say, giggling a little as you shake his hand. Immediately you cringe, a giggle? Really? What are you, a middle schooler?

You pull your hand back awkwardly, holding onto the cold drink to distract yourself. You try to steal subtle glances at his face, averting your gaze back to your coffee whenever you thought he might catch you in the act. With his hair down, brushing the top of his glasses, and that pretty smile, he makes it hard to focus on anything else. 

Today, he’s dressed casually—a simple black shirt that clings to his figure perfectly, making his muscles more visible. He might as well be asking you to fall for him when he looks like that. 

You quickly shake your head, snapping out of your thoughts. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve somehow turned into a middle schooler after all. Then your eyes fall to his side, noticing the camera case flung over his shoulder. “Are you a photographer?” You ask, lifting your eyes to meet his. “Ah, this?” He chuckles, shaking his head as he sets the case on the table and takes out his camera. “It’s just a hobby, not a profession,” he clarifies. 

“Can I still see some of your photos?” You ask, hopeful. Wonwoo agrees, nodding as he hands you his camera. He can’t say no to you, not when you look so excited. For a brief moment, he could almost see stars in your eyes as you took the camera from him. 

Your head tells you to ignore the feeling, but your body has a different idea. Your stomach twists in a (weird) way you’d prefer not to address—refusing to admit it could be anything like those so-called butterflies people talk about, and you swallow hard when your fingers brush against his, the soft touch sending shivers through your body. 

“You’re really talented!” you exclaim, flipping through his most recent pictures. A few are of an elderly couple—what you can only assume to be a part of his family—some are shots of nature or stray cats, and others are self-portraits of him.

You smile, finding him cute until you come across one that makes your stomach lurch: he’s shirtless, his hair wet, probably just out of the pool. A flush creeps up your neck as you quickly close the gallery, trying to shake off the image. You bring the camera up to your eyes to focus on something else, adjusting the lighting before snapping a picture of the man in front of you. 

“What was that for?” He smiles, sipping on his coffee. “Not sure,” you admit, handing him the camera back so he could take a look at the picture you took. “Actually, I could ask the same,” you proclaim, getting his attention. “You paid for me. You ran from the door to get to me on time. What was that for?” You question him, watching as his smile grows wider. He looks at his camera again, smiling at the picture of him as he shrugs, repeating your words, “Not sure.” 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

The saying “When you know, you know” was always stupid in your opinion. You weren’t sure what it meant in the first place. Logically, it didn’t make any sense. 

And as you walk through your company’s building, heading to your office with Margaret by Lana Del Rey playing in your earphones, you feel like you will never understand it. Because you don’t just know. 

But it doesn’t stop you from being happy. You don’t have to “know” in order to enjoy your time. 

“What’s that smile for?” Chan stops when he notices you in the hallway, a teasing grin on his face you’d recognize from miles away. You roll your eyes at him, taking out your earphones and turning the music off. “Nothin’” you try to brush him off, but you know your eyes give you away. “It’s about the coffee guy, isn’t it? Don’t tell me you went to the café again,” he sighs, sounding almost disappointed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You frown. He doesn’t answer anymore. Instead he shrugs, accompanying you to your office. 

“Wonwoo,” you mumble as you step into your office. Chan raises an eyebrow, looking at you with confusion, mentally running through your list of clients to see if the name rings a bell. “That’s the coffee guy. His name is Wonwoo,” you explain with a smile. “I ran into him again today.” Your assistant freezes for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. “I’m guessing you didn’t hate him, then?” he asks, settling onto the couch in the room. 

You sit in your chair, opening your laptop, and immediately flashing yourself with the image of the Millers’ project. “He’s nice,” you answer casually. “And has a nice smile.” Chan frowns. “That’s all he needed to charm you?” You roll your eyes, zooming in on the room that was supposed to be for the Millers’ youngest. Thanks to your assistant’s relentless nagging, there are only two rooms left to complete. “Some people go for men just because they have money. So I don’t think I’m that bad.” 

“Yeah, because you have the money.” You glare at him, giving him a warning look and letting him know that if he continues, you’re kicking him out. “Okay, sorry,” he raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head. “I’m just worried. I haven’t seen you obsess over a guy like this…ever.” — “Honestly, that also freaks me out,” you admit, sighing. “He’s just got this aura that pulls me in. I’m not sure why.” Chan hums as a sign of understatement. “Maybe you found a soul to your non-existent one,” he jokes, but you don’t find it funny. “Out.” 

“I didn’t do anything!” He protests. “I need to focus. Out.” You repeat yourself firmly and watch him get up from the couch. “I’m expecting a finished project by tonight, then,” he says, not waiting for your answer and leaving the office. 

Your head hits the back of your chair, watching his back as he leaves. Then your eyes drift to your phone, lighting up due to a new message. Your eyes widen, and you immediately reach for it, smiling at the simple “Hi” Wonwoo left you when you gave him your number. Then another text pops up, and you know you won’t get him out of your head anytime soon as you tell him the time you’re ending today. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

Chan’s head hurts. 

“Tomorrow. I’m serious,” he hisses, and you shut your eyes closed, feeling bad. You got so caught up in playing with Mr. Xu’s project and texts with your new acquaintance that you barely did anything on the Millers’ project even though you knew the deadline was close. “I will get it done tonight,” you promise. “I’ll work on it overnight, and you’ll have it on your desk first thing in the morning so you can show it to them.” 

Your assistant shakes his head, and you know he is disappointed. “Do whatever you want, but get your priorities straight,” your name leaves past his lips, and you gulp down. It’s been long since you’ve been scolded like this, and Chan might be the last person you would expect it from, but a part of you knows you needed to hear it. 

He opens his mouth to speak again, but before he can, the office door swings open, and someone steps into the room. Your gaze immediately lands on the man standing behind Chan, and you can already feel the atmosphere growing awkward. Your assistant turns around to see who just walked in, his confusion evident as he locks eyes with a man he’s never seen. “I apologize, but consultation hours are over. If you’d like a session, you’ll have to come back tomorrow morning.” 

“Oh, I’m not here for–” He tries to explain, but you quickly stand up, grabbing your laptop and jacket as you make your way to the door. “Okay, that’s enough talk for today. I promise I’ll finish the project tonight,” you promise one more time, waving at Chan before grabbing Wonwoo’s arm and leading the way out. You don’t need Chan to know you are hanging out with the same guy who’s been distracting you all day. You wouldn’t hear the end of it then. 

“What was that for?” Wonwoo laughs, following you out of the building. “Long story,” you brush it off. “If that was your boyfriend, then maybe…” — “I don’t have a boyfriend,” you stop him before he can finish his sentence and silently scoff when you see the smile on his face. “Good,” he mumbles. You have to bite your bottom lip to constrain your smile, averting your gaze and pretending you are looking at the interior plans on the walls. 

“Alright, should we go?” He interrupts your thoughts, slightly moving his arm–which you are still holding–to get your attention. You look up at him, nodding. “Where exactly are we going, anyway?” You wonder, but you don’t get an answer to your question. 

“You have a nice car,” you comment when you sit in the passenger’s seat after he opens the door for you. You look around, smiling. It’s been a long time since you last went on a night stroll, and you missed it. The silence, the calmness, the moon, and even the street lights that added a somewhat serene atmosphere. “Do I?” He chuckles. You’re not sure, actually. You never knew much about cars, and all of your previous relationships always made fun of you for it. “That’s funny because Min–” he clears his throat. “My friend,” he corrects himself. “He made a whole joke about it.” — “I was annoyed at first, but now it’s slowly starting to be funny.” 

“Are you close with your friends?” The question might sound lame, and you are aware of it. But after meeting so many people who would have answered with a flat “no,” you can’t help but ask. “Some of them,” he agrees. “I usually keep my circle small.” You smile, “So do I. Well– I know people. But not many of them know a lot about me,” you clarify. “I get what you mean,” he nods. “It’s better that way,” he mumbles, driving off the parking lot. 

A part of you thinks you have found your ideal man when he parks his car again, and you step out. Your eyes widen at the scenery in front of you, and you immediately glance at the man beside you. “This is insane,” you breathe out, and a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you take a few eager steps forward. You’re drawn to the railing at the edge of the mountain you’re standing on, where you can finally take in the full scope of the view. 

The landscape stretches far below, the trees barely reaching your height. The air feels lighter up here, and everything around you seems more vivid. This place would be beautiful to watch the sunrise. You can already picture it—the golden light slipping between the mountains, creating shadows on the trees below. It’s like a canvas, a moment you want to paint. 

It reminds you of the painting you lost for a second. You shake your head, snapping out of your thoughts as you turn around to face Wonwoo. At the same moment, you hear the sound of a picture being snapped, smiling when you see him with a camera in front of his eyes, taking pictures of you. “A memory,” he justifies. “And if you let me take you on a second date, too, then I’ll put the picture beside my bed,” he teases you, walking forward to join you. “So this is a first date?” You ask, chuckling when you see him averting his gaze. “If you want to call it that,” he shrugs, trying to be casual about it. 

“I can think of this as a first date, yeah.” 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“Missed me?” 

You turn around when you hear the familiar voice and scoff. “Not really, no.” You turn your back to him again, thanking the waiter as you take a drink from his plate, trying to ignore the presence of another human being right behind you. “Oh, come on,” you can hear the smirk in his voice as he follows you, just like a puppy. You shake your head, glancing his way as he catches up to you, managing to get a drink for himself along the way. “I’m sure you keep thinking about me.” 

“You wish,” you retort. “Then maybe... you keep thinking about my painting, then.” You stop, staring him up and down. “Kim Mingyu, was it?” You ask as if you weren’t aware of who he was. “I’m not sure what experience you have with women, but I can assure you—just because you managed to steal one painting from me doesn’t mean you get a place in my mind. And definitely not my heart,” you fake a smile, and he chuckles, nodding. “I see. But it was enough for you to remember my name, huh?” 

He is unbelievable. Every bit of your body feels triggered when you speak to him, but still, you stay near him for some reason, unable to tell him to stop bothering you and leave. “It was a guess.” — “Yeah, right,” your name leaves his lips, and you have to gulp down. It still sounds as elegant as it did the first time he said your name out loud. 

“Well, m’lady, what are you looking for tonight?” Mingyu asks, following you to the auction hall. “I’d rather not disclose,” you turn him down casually, making his lips turn up into a smile. “Scared I’d go for the same art piece?” You stay quiet because you know he is right. You don’t want to go against him again. “Don’t worry, m’lady, I’m here just to observe tonight,” he leans down to your ear, assuring you. It makes a shiver run down your spine. “Good for you,” you try to sound calm, but you’re currently everything but that. 

As you sit down at one of the chairs, and he takes a place beside you, you rethink your whole conversation. Where did the nickname come from? And why did you have such mixed feelings about it? You felt confused. You were stunned when you felt the tickling in your stomach as he called you m’lady, but you also felt weird about it. You and Wonwoo have been going out now, and he had taken you out on some great dates, so you felt bad for him. You felt wrong about another man calling you nicknames like that.Obviously, you couldn’t say you have spent a lot of time with Wonwoo, or got to know him on a deeper level, but you had a feeling. Your intuition was telling you to go for it. 

“So? Which piece is it?” Mingyu nudges your shoulder, bringing you back to Earth. “What?” You ask confusedly, frowning. “What are you looking to get tonight,” he explains, glancing at the podium with all the things in today’s auction. “I think the vase looks quite nice, but I think you’ll like the flower painting more,” he comments, making you look towards the podium, too. “They are both nice,” you agree. “But in fact, I was thinking of a different painting. The abstract one on the right side. It’s mostly because of the colors.” He hums, and it feels like he’s zoning out, thinking about something. You don’t pay much attention to it, though. You didn’t come here to care about what’s going on through a man’s head. 

Throughout the rest of the auction, Mingyu stays quiet most of the time. He has stuff on his mind. Even a blind would notice that, but you don’t point it out. You’re too focused on the auction happening at the moment to be bothered with him. As long as he doesn’t annoy you, you don’t care what he does. 

“Yes!” You cheer quietly, making him look your way. “I got it,” you smile. “And for cheap.” He chuckles, shaking his head at you. “Good job,” he teases you, and you know he doesn’t mean it literally, but his words still get stuck in your head. 

Is Kim Mingyu trying to flirt with you, or are you just imagining things? 

“So, can we leave now?” 

“We?” You raise your eyebrows confusedly, but before he gets to answer, your phone goes off, causing everyone in the room to look in your direction. “Shit,” you mumble, pressing the decline button as fast as you can. Still, Mingyu catches the caller ID and frowns. Coffee guy <3 ?? Why would anyone name someone like that on their phone? “Tell me no one is looking at me right now,” you whine, staring down onto your lap. “I think everyone is staring,” he proclaims, making you slowly look up. You sigh when you notice everyone is busy with their own things and put your phone on do-not-disturb. 

“Was that your boyfriend?” He wonders. “None of your business,” you shut him down. You don’t intend to be Kim Mingyu’s friend. He’s weird, problematic, self-centered, tall, with tanned skin– No. You shake your head to interrupt your thoughts before they get the chance to go in the wrong direction. Kim Mingyu is problematic and self-centered. You repeat, looking back at the podium to keep your thoughts still. 

“Whatever you say, m’lady.” 

And you fail miserably. He throws you off with just one sentence, and you hate yourself for it. 

You run out before Mingyu can strike up a conversation with you again. You don’t know what his problem is, but you are certain you don’t want to deal with him now. So, instead, you pick up your phone and decide to call your coffee guy. 

“Hi,” you smile when he accepts your call immediately. “I’m sorry for hanging up on you earlier. I was busy,” you explain, but he only tells you not to worry about it. “It wasn’t something that couldn’t wait, don’t worry,” he assures you. “I was wondering if you don’t want to go out tomorrow, that’s all.” You pull the phone away from your ear for a second, checking today’s date as you head toward the taxi you ordered earlier. “Sorry, Wonwoo, I already got plans. And I’m working in the morning,” you apologize, sitting down in the backseat. 

“Actually,” you start, switching your phone from one hand to another so you can fasten your seatbelt. “Maybe you could come with me. My friend is having this party at his house to impress a girl or something. You could meet everyone I talk to when I don’t talk to you,” you chuckle awkwardly, greeting the taxi driver when your eyes meet in his rearview mirror. 

“Get to know your friends?” You notice the hesitation in his voice and panic. “You don’t have to, obviously! It was just a suggestion! If you don’t feel like socializing, it’s all good!” You assure him, shutting your eyes closed when you finish, regretting ever mentioning anything. “No, I’ll– I’ll come with you. I’m sorry if it sounded like I didn’t want to. I was just startled.” You breathe out in relief, opening your eyes again. “Of course, I’d love to meet your friends.” 

At the moment, you don’t pay any attention to his tone of voice anymore, but maybe you should have. It might have been for the better if you didn’t bring him with you, after all. 

Because while you smile on your way back home, Wonwoo, on the other side of the phone, is freaking out. He never intended for things to get this far—he shouldn’t be meeting your friends. That wasn’t the plan. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

Wonwoo tenses when the loud music reaches his ears. He didn’t think people his age threw parties anymore, but he was dead wrong.

As he follows you inside, all he can think of is how bad of an idea this was. Befriending your friends was a terrible idea. What would be next? Hanging out with them in his free time? Talking about you with them? Being your plus-one at their birthday parties? He was fucked. 

He doesn’t even get a chance to think about what he was going to do when you drag him to a group of guys you notice immediately after stepping inside, insisting on wanting to greet them first. 

“You’re all early!” You grin, going in for a hug with your best friend. Seokmin wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tightly before his eyes land on the taller male behind you, a smile creeping up his lips as he lets you go. “And who might this be?” He asks even though he already knows. There wasn’t a conversation he had with you where Wonwoo hadn’t been brought up since you had gone on your first date with him. 

“Ah, I’m Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo. I guess I’m her…” he glances at you for some help, but you don’t know what to say either. He isn’t your boyfriend, but a friend sounds wrong, too. “Uhm, yeah,” he looks back at the three guys in front of him, nodding awkwardly as a small laugh leaves his lips. You’re cute. The helpless but excited look on your face you give him when your eyes locked with his is unforgettable. 

“I’m Seokmin, and I guess I’m her best friend,” Seokmin laughs with him, offering Wonwoo his hand. Soonyoung and Jihoon introduce themself shortly after, sending you teasing smiles immediately. You shake your head at them, wrapping your arm around Wonwoo’s to get his attention. “I’m going to find Hansol and get us something to drink. Wait here with them?” Your eyebrows raise in question, mostly asking him if he was okay with spending some time alone with the boys. 

In fact, he isn’t. He doesn’t want to give them a chance to see that there is something off about him, but he still nods for the sake of it all, letting you leave. 

You wander around the house, greeting people here and there that you recognize as Hansol’s friends until you reach the kitchen, where, to your luck, you find the man himself. “Vernon,” you smile, catching his attention. “How have you been?” You ask, walking over to pull him into a hug. “Hey,” he smiles, softly patting your back. “I’m good, except for the fact I haven’t seen Adel around yet,” he answers your question, taking a step back. “I’m sure she’ll come soon,” you smile back at him, leaning on his kitchen island. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks and you nod, looking around to try and see what he has. “I’ve got your favorite champagne. What do you think?” He offers, and you can’t refuse. “Can I also get a beer?” — Hansol frowns, grabbing the bottle of champagne. “I wouldn’t drink both,” he advises. “I’m not stupid,” you remind him, thanking him as you take the champagne from him. “The beer is for Wonwoo. I don’t think he’d appreciate this much,” you laugh, grabbing a glass from his cabinet, along with one for Wonwoo. “Wonwoo?” Hansol raises his eyebrow teasingly, pointing towards the pipe with beer so you can pour it yourself. “You’re not the only one planning to get a partner tonight,” you answer simply, laughing as you walk away. 

Wonwoo, on the other hand, is finally relaxing as he engages in a conversation with your friends. “You make her happy, I’m glad,” Seokmin smiles, looking around to assure himself you aren’t anywhere near them. “She cannot stop talking about you. It gets to the point where it’s annoying,” he complains, and Soonyoung immediately agrees. Wonwoo laughs, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Hopefully, they are all good things.” 

“Some of them are nice, yeah,” Soonyoung nods, then glares at the older male. “But some…” — “Don’t pay attention to him,” Jihoon interrupts him. “He’s just teasing you,” he shakes his head at his friend. “Yeah, but if you do one bad thing,” Seokmin warns him, staring him down. Wonwoo swallows a lump in his throat. It’s not like he was scared of them. Heck, he could lean on Jihoon’s head if he wanted to, but he feels awful. Because honestly, you don’t deserve anything bad in your life. 

“I don’t want to hurt her,” he proclaims, catching both Seokmin and Soonyoung off guard. Jihoon, though, doesn’t seem much shaken by his statement. He’s smiling at Wonwoo as if he was proud. “I mean– that’s good. You shouldn’t hurt her,” Seokmin nods, glancing at his friends as he tries to find the words he wants. “Well, in that case, what are you still waiting for?” Soonyoung asks, making Wonwoo frown. “I’m sorry?” 

“When are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend? We’ve all been waiting. I don’t think she will shut up about you otherwise,” he explains, prompting him. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“That’s–” A great question, actually. Something he should have definitely expected to come from them. Of course they wanted to know what his intentions with their friend were. But the truth was, he didn’t know if he could ask you to be his girlfriend. It would only get things messy. It would be for the best if he just did his part as quickly as possible and then disappeared from your life before he could hurt you any more than he already has. 

“You look like you’re about to faint.” — Wonwoo sighs when he hears the female voice behind him, coming to save him. “Are these guys giving you trouble?” This time, it’s a different tone. There are two of them, he realizes. He turns around to see who is behind him, but before he can question the girls’ identities, Soonyoung pulls the slightly taller one into a hug while the other girl greets Seokmin and Jihoon. 

“We are nice to him, don’t worry, Adel,” Seokmin laughs, but her frown makes it obvious that she doesn’t believe him. “Just making sure he knows whose side we’re on,” he grins. “And who exactly is this lovely guy whose life you are making so much harder?” The taller girl asks when she steps back from her boyfriend and greets his two friends. “Jeon Wonwoo,” he introduces himself, sending a soft smile toward the two girls. 

“Ah, I see,” she laughs. “I’m Hanni. Soonyoung’s girlfriend.” — “And I’m Adel,” the shorter one introduces herself, too, before glancing around the room. “Have you guys seen Hansol anywhere? I promised him I’ll come meet him right when I arrive.” 

“I’ll help you find him,” Wonwoo offers, immediately taking his chance for an escape. He just needs to find you and get away from any more of the guys’ questions, and it will be all okay again. “Alright, I’ll see you guys later.” Jihoon nods toward her, sending a smile toward Wonwoo too, to let him know it was okay. He could sense the tension in him, the need for an escape. He couldn’t blame him, honestly. 

Eventually, it’s you who finds the two of them. “Hansol is in the kitchen,” you inform Adel, and she thanks you, leaving the two of you alone and going to find him. “I hope you’re okay with a beer,” you say, handing Wonwoo the drink you got him. “Definitely,” he assures you. “What did you get?” He wonders, glancing at the glass in your hand. “Champagne,” you smile, offering him a sip. “I’m good, thanks,” he shakes his head, smiling back at you. “Hansol said he’ll hide the whole bottle for me, so I have tonight’s drinks secured,” you grin, making him chuckle. “How about we get you that bottle then and go somewhere quieter? There’s too many people for my taste,” he suggests, looking around the room to prove his point. People were everywhere. 

“Yeah…Yeah, of course!” You nod, trying to think of a place to go. “Come with me for the bottle then. If we catch Hansol, I can ask him if we can chill out in his room for a bit.” — “Thank you,” he whispers, still smiling. You shake your head, saying it’s not a big deal. 

Vernon doesn’t seem to have any objections, but you are certain that’s only because he is too busy talking to the girl he likes. Still, you don’t waste your opportunity and grab the champagne bottle before leading Wonwoo to the bedroom. 

Wonwoo sits down on the bed, placing the glass of beer on the floor beside his leg while you close the door, making him immediately sigh in relief when the music damps. He watches your every movement as you place the bottle of champagne along with your glass on the closest table you see before turning your attention to him again. You bite your bottom lip, hesitating as you look him up and down. You take careful steps forward until you reach him, stopping right in front of him. He breathes out your name, and it sends shivers down your spine. “Is it…okay for me to sit down?” Wonwoo frowns in confusion at first, but when he notices your eyes on his lap, he gulps down hard, hesitantly nodding. 

You sit yourself on him, fixing his hair as you gaze into his eyes. At the moment, Wonwoo forgets about everything he promised himself before he met you, unable to resist you when you’re this close to him. His body moves before he can think of anything else, pulling you closer by the waist so he can press his lips on yours. One of his hands grips your waist while he takes off his glasses with the other, trying to think of the beer next to his leg so he doesn’t accidentally kick it down. 

You gently push him down onto the bed, your fingers wandering over his clothed chest while your mouths explore one another, and for a second, you think life couldn’t be any better. That’s only until his phone rings though. “Mhm, wait,” he whines into the kiss, searching for his phone in his pocket. You place a kiss on his jaw instead, glancing at his phone to see who is calling. 

Wonwoo turns his phone off before you can see anything, throwing it to the side as his hands cup your face and he brings your lips back to his. “Who was that?” You ask between kisses. “Friend,” he mumbles back. “I’ll call him in a bit.” You can’t have any complaints when he kisses you so nicely, so you don’t say anything else and let yourself enjoy the moment. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“Good night,” Wonwoo smiles, and it melts your heart. “Good night, Wonwoo,” you smile back at him, letting go of his hand as you step inside your apartment. There’s nothing but love in your eyes, and it makes his heart ache. “I’ll text you later,” he assures you. He hesitates for a second but eventually steps closer to you again, pulling you into a warm embrace. You wrap your hands around his waist, burying your head in his chest. “Get home safe.” 

When you close the door behind yourself, Wonwoo sighs and takes out his phone, dialing his friend’s number. 

“Where have you been?” He asks impatiently, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Hello to you too, Mingyu,” he greets him, putting his empty hand in the pocket of his jacket as he leaves the apartment building. “I was with her until now, sorry. She took me to her friend’s party,” he explains, making Mingyu frown. It was obvious what girl he was talking about. “You met up with her friends?” He questions, and Wonwoo can already guess what direction this conversation will take. “Okay, look. I don’t think I can continue,” Wonwoo admits, and Mingyu falls silent. “What?” 

“I just…” he starts, but before he can think of the right words, Mingyu speaks up again. “You actually fell for her, didn’t you?” Mingyu scoffs. “You’re unbelievable.” — “Look, it’s not as simple as you think it is. It’s only normal to like someone you’ve been forced to spend so much time with,” Wonwoo argues. “You are the one who got me into this situation.” 

“I got you into this situation?” Mingyu repeats his words with nothing but disgust. “I’ve asked you to get to know her and find her weaknesses, not to go on fucking dates with her and fall for her!” — “I’m hanging up if you want to yell at me,” Wonwoo states, the grip he has on his phone only tightening as he starts getting angry. 

“Sorry,” Mingyu mumbles, leaning back in his chair as he tries to think of what to do next. “So you really won’t do it?” Wonwoo sighs. “I can’t.” What was so good about you? Mingyu wonders. His best friend wasn’t one to fall for just anyone, so there must be something about you. He just couldn’t figure out what it was. Sure, you were pretty and smart. That was something he couldn’t take away from you, but that couldn’t be it, right? “Alright, I’ll do it on my own,” Mingyu sighs, glancing at his opened laptop. “Can you disappear off the scene for a bit?” 

Wonwoo hesitates. He wants to take a step back and calm himself because he knows he can’t actually be with you, but giving Mingyu a free hand scares him. He doesn’t want to see you break apart because of his friend. “What are you planning?” 

“I’m going to befriend her. See if she lets me get closer, and then I’ll figure out something else.” — “Two weeks,” Wonwoo proclaims. “Two weeks, what?” Mingyu asks confusedly. “I’ll leave for two weeks and let you do whatever, but… when I come back, I don’t want to play your game anymore, Gyu. If she wants to be with me, then I want to go for it. Right now, that’s more important to me than any money or stupid art pieces you want.” 

Two weeks. That’s all he gets. Wonwoo won’t give him any more than that.

But two weeks is something Kim Mingyu can work with. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

It was shortly after your third auction when Mingyu sat in his bedroom, trying his hardest not to yell at his girlfriend. 

“Listen, you might think she is just some cheap chick that doesn’t know a shit about money, but I’m telling you, you’re wrong,” he repeats himself. “She knows what’s up.” 

“Oh, come on! No woman is as good as you!” Mingyu frowns when those words leave his girlfriend’s mouth. He always knew she wanted to kiss his ass whenever she got the chance, but now a part of him just felt disgusted. “We don’t have to go through any extra work just because of some slut, right?” You are a slut. The words stop at the tip of his tongue and he has to close his eyes for a second to calm himself. 

It felt funny hearing that from someone as his girlfriend. If it wasn’t for her ability to get into any man’s pants, he wouldn’t be keeping her around anymore. “We do,” he states simply, getting up from his bed with a sigh. She wasn’t there so she wouldn’t know but he saw it, the way you talked, and how all the men around were falling to their knees for you. One wrong move on his side and you could have all his opponents wrapped around your finger. He couldn’t let that happen. 

“Yeah, and what do you want me to do, huh?” Her voice gets louder, and it makes him annoyed. It wasn’t anything new, her voice always bothered him, but for her to have the audacity to raise her voice at him now? She must have gone mad. 

“I don’t fucking know. Eat her out for all I care. Just do what you always do. I’m not buying you expensive shit for you to just sit around and do nothing,” Mingyu tries to stay calm, refusing to fall so low and yell at a woman even though the girl in front of him makes him want to rip out his hair. 

“I can’t play with a woman!” She complains, making Mingyu groan. “For fucks sake, you just can’t do anything, huh?” He runs his fingers through his black hair, trying to think of a plan. “Well, then, it’s great you can do so much!” His girlfriend yells back at him, and Mingyu finally snaps. “Out.” His voice is strong, sending shivers down her spine. “What?” She blinks a few times, suddenly falling quiet. “Get the fuck out of my house. I’m done with you.” 

“Wait– What–What do you mean?” Her voice shakes, and she has to gulp down when she notices his stare. His eyes are full of hate, more than they were ever before. She would be stupid to think Mingyu ever loved her—or even felt anything romantic toward her—but she liked being around him nonetheless and knew Mingyu appreciated her company from time to time, too. Now, though, there wasn’t anything that could convince her Kim Mingyu didn’t hate her with his whole body. 

“You finally hit the final string. I’m done with you,” he explains, not bothering with saying anything else as his head tilts towards the door, telling her to leave. 

Mingyu sighed when he was alone again, lying down on his bed. The sudden silence was new to him, but it helped his thoughts to get running so he didn’t mind. He knew he couldn’t just track you down and try to get closer to you to do the job on his own. You would be an idiot to let him in. So, what else could he do? 

Then it hit him. He quickly sat up, searching for his phone with his eyes. When he finally found it, it took him less than a few seconds to dial his friend’s number. “Hey, Wonwoo, do you think you could come over today?” 

And that was how it all started in the first place. The plotting, the tracking down, all the effort Mingyu put in to figure out the things you like so he could give his best friend the perfect info. Even Minghao. Mingyu thought of it all. While one of his friends got closer to you in your free time, his other friend interrogated your workspace. 

It was perfect. He’s got it all covered. There was no way his plan could fail. He was taking you down. 

Until Wonwoo hit him with the call, and everything fell apart again. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

The following morning, the first thing you did was reach for your phone so you could text Wonwoo. 

You rub your eyes, trying to get them to focus properly as you open the chat with him, your eyes widening when you notice you have a new message. You smile when you see the text, but it fades away again when you read what it says. “What the fuck are you sorry for so early in the morning?” You sit up, hoping this is still just a part of your dream. “You’re kidding me,” you breathe out, pressing the call button and bringing your phone up to your ear. 

“Good morning,” Wonwoo greets you nervously, and you can almost see the way he rubs the back of his neck. “Not exactly a good morning,” you proclaim, waiting for a further explanation. “I’m sorry,” he breathes out. “I forgot about it, and the guys texted me yesterday asking if I was already packed. I couldn’t tell them I am not going.” 

“Don’t you think the timing is a bit insane?” You call him out, scoffing when he can’t say anything in his defense. “And what the fuck is with the message in the first place? I’m sorry. I won’t be able to see you in the next two weeks?” You recite to him what he said. “That’s all I get after everything?” 

“I swear it has nothing to do with what happened yesterday. I– I like you a lot. And I don’t want to leave, not now, but I have to.” 

“What if I don’t believe you?” — “Sweetheart…” he starts, and it makes your heart ache. “Don’t sweetheart me when you left me a fucking message about leaving without any further explanation right after we kissed for the first time.” Wonwoo sighs. He knows he is wrong for doing this, but it’s better than cooperating with Mingyu on his plan to take you down. He can’t do that to you. So he chose the safer choice, even if it might hurt you a bit. 

You sigh as well. “You wouldn’t have called me if I didn’t, would you? You would just leave after one text and not speak to me after, right?” — “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, and it hits you even more when you know you’re right. “Alright,” you nod. “Have fun with your friends.” 

“Wait, no, don’t leave just like that,” he tries to stop you. “Are you kidding me now? You are the one trying to leave just like that! If you don’t want anything to do with me, just say it. No need to hide behind your friends for it.” He wants to explain everything to you, say that he is doing it for your own good, but he can’t. So he stays silent, trying to figure out a different excuse. You don’t give him the benefit of the doubt anymore, though, and when he doesn’t say anything to prove you wrong, you hang up on him. 

You receive a few more texts from him afterward but decide to ignore them. You need space, and the two weeks he decided to take off from you sound like a perfect idea now. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that,” Seokmin tries to assure you as he walks down the stairs from your loft. “And I am certain he did,” you retort, waiting for him. “Remember how I disappeared for a week when we had that argument?” He reminds you, and you frown. “That’s different.” 

“I don’t think it is,” he shakes his head. “You can’t just stop talking to him because he forgot he planned a trip with his friends.” — “It’s not about the trip,” you argue. “We kissed the night before,” you admit, making Seokmin’s eyes widen. “You what?!” He yells, following you to the door. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I wanted to let it sit for a bit, figure out if it’s what I want,” you answer, sighing as you put on your shoes. “I thought I did, but now I’m hesitating again.” Seokmin leans against the wall as he puts his boots on, trying to find the right words. “Do you like being with him?” — “Yeah,” you nod, sighing when you meet your best friend’s eyes. “And do you want to be with him?” That question is when you hesitate. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I like him and spending time with him, but I’m not sure if what I felt when we kissed was right.” 

You thought kissing him was right, that you were meant to be, but the more you think about the night, the more unsure you feel. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t notice it, but you doubt you felt anything at all. You missed the touch of another human being, and you loved the kiss, but you couldn’t say it would make any difference if it was someone else that night. 

“There’s something good that comes from this trip of his, though,” you say as you walk out of your apartment, Seokmin following you immediately. “I have two weeks now to figure out what I feel. We’ll see if I miss him.” You want to miss him. You want to feel something for him, but a part of you knows you won’t. He had lost you the moment he thought a simple text was all he needed. 

“Can we stop talking about him now? I just want to get breakfast with my best friend and then get to work. Maybe I’ll feel better when Chan yells at me,” You laugh, but Seokmin doesn’t find it funny at all. “Let’s get something good,” he smiles anyway, hoping to make you feel better. “It’s on me today.” 

You and your best friend end up in the same café you’ve been going to for the past month. When the barista asks you if you want your usual, it makes you wonder if you’ve been spending too much on coffee lately. “Can we also get two of those sandwiches, please?” The lady opposite you nods, clicking on a few things on the digital cash register before her before she moves to grab those for you. 

“The handsome guy isn’t with you today?” She wonders as she hands you the two sandwiches along with the two cups of coffee you ordered. Before you can answer her, Seokmin is nudging you out of the way so he can talk instead. “I don’t think he is all that. Honestly, I’m way prettier.” The barista chuckles, nodding. “Of course you are,” she encourages him before telling him the total so he could pay. “Oh god,” you shake your head at him, laughing as you leave the counter and try to find a table. 

“I hope she didn’t think I’m your new date,” Seokmin frowns, sitting at the table in the furthest corner of the café. “Oh, that would be terrible,” you nod, but it’s obvious you’re making fun of him. He rolls his eyes at you, taking his coffee and sandwich from you. “Yeah, it would! You would block my chance of getting any girl, ever.” 

“You’re being dramatic,” you scoff. “And don’t tell me you couldn’t get any girl you want.” — “You’d be surprised,” he mumbles, and all of a sudden, you feel bad for him. “Are we starting an operation ‘get Seokmin a date’?” You suggest, making him laugh as he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll shoot my shot once I find someone I like,” he assures you. “You should worry about yourself now. You were so close to finally getting laid, and now–” You glare at him before he can finish his sentence, making him close his mouth. The teasing look he gives you makes it impossible for you to keep a straight face though, so you end up laughing again. 

“I love you, Min,” you smile. “Sorry—I don’t feel the same way,” he apologizes, with the fakest sad face possible to prove his point, and you know you will never find a better best friend than him. “I love you too, kiddo,” he teases you again, making it sound as if he was years older than you. You shake your head, sipping on your coffee. 

When you get into your office, and Chan isn’t already waiting for you, you feel something is off. For a minute, you wonder if Seokmin didn’t call your assistant and say something to him, but he proves you wrong when your phone rings, flashing you with your assistant’s ID. 

“Yeah?” You ask when you pick up the phone. “Good morning,” he greets you first, glancing at the male in front of him. “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but do you think you could take on another project?” Another one? At this point, you might go crazy. You already feel behind on everything. You shouldn’t take on anything else. “What kind of project?” You ask anyway, relaxing in your chair as you open your laptop to see all the deadlines you have for now. Chan covers the phone’s microphone for a second, but you can still hear muffled voices as he repeats your question to the new (possible) client. 

“Apparently, he wants you to design the interior for his parents’ living room and kitchen. As a present,” Chan answers, already knowing you won’t refuse that. “Alright,” you sigh. “Send him up, and I’ll see what I can do.” 

“You’re kidding me,” you mumble when you see no one else but Kim Mingyu himself walk through your office door, your assistant right behind him. “Good morning to you, too,” he grins. “I can sit down here, right?” He points at the chair opposite you, not waiting for your reply as he pulls it away from the table to take a seat. Chan’s eyes flicker between the two of you, trying his hardest to figure out what’s going on. “You two…know each other?” He guesses, raising his eyebrows in confusion when you send him a glare. He quickly raises his hands into the air, unsure of what the tension in the room is supposed to mean. He wasn’t one of your exes or something, was he? 

“You could say we do,” Mingyu nods, glancing at your assistant and sending him a smile. “I’m just gonna…yeah,” Chan runs away before he can get himself into any trouble, leaving you alone. You sigh, taking a deep breath before you smile at the black-haired male opposite you. “I heard you want me to design two rooms for your parents?” 

“Well, of course!” He chuckles. “Could I get a paper?” You frown in confusion, reaching for a blank paper on your table and passing it to him. “And a pen,” he adds when you hand him a paper alone. “Thought that was obvious.” — You roll your eyes at him, grabbing your pen and giving it to him. “Look, if you are just here to make me waste my time, you can leave now,” you sigh, watching him doodle something on the paper. “I’m not here to waste your time. I really want you to do this,” he proclaims, sparing you a mare glance before he stares down at the paper again, continuing his drawing. 

You sit in silence for a few minutes, shaking your head at how unbelievable he is while he continues drawing something without saying anything. You consider working on one of your projects while he sits there, but push the thought aside when your eyes land on him again. You just can’t comprehend what he’s doing. Why would he come into your office, saying he has work for you, and then just sit there and do nothing? 

“Okay, I’m done,” Mingyu proclaims, making you look up. “What?” You ask confusedly, blinking a few times to comprehend what he is trying to show you. “The house plans,” he explains, placing the piece of paper in front of you. “I don’t have the original house plans on me since this is supposed to be a surprise. So, I drew it.” 

You think your mind might have frozen for a second. Your eyes widen when you glance down and see what he drew. It looked just like any other house plan. And the fact he just whipped that out as if it was nothing? “Are you an architect? No one is this good without a ruler or anything but paper and pen,” you really try to understand how he did it, but it’s impossible. You are certain none of the architects you know could do this. “I’m not,” he shrugs. “Just an ordinary cook, m’lady,” he smirks, excited that he could impress you. 

“You are not an ordinary cook, I can tell you that.” Mingyu laughs, shaking his head at you. “I did have an interest in engineering before, though.” — “Ah,” you breathe out, nodding. “That’s why you’re insane,” you proclaim, excusing his behavior as if it explained everything. “I’m not insane,” he frowns. You glance at him again, raising your eyebrows to show him you disagree with his statement. “Do you want me to be insane, though? I could.” You sigh when he ruins the moment, just like he always does when he talks to you. “Shut up, and rather tell me what you want me to do.” Mingyu chuckles, his head falling down as he shakes his head. “You’re no fun, sweetheart.” 

You don’t say anything to that, refusing to play this game with him. You know what he wants to hear, but you won’t give it to him. “Alright, alright,” he starts, trying to get serious again, but the smile on his face makes you doubt if he can. “I’m thinking of something cozy. Right now, I feel like my mom is going to bump into something every time she turns around in the kitchen, so something more open would be great,” he gets into a zone as he starts explaining to you how his parents’ house looks, pulling out his phone to show you some pictures. You’re not sure if he didn’t want to just flex though when you see the pictures of him in nothing but grey sweatpants and an apron. 

He tells you everything about what he has in mind, giving you a perfect idea of how the finished project should look by the time he finishes. “Okay, I can do that,” you nod, officially accepting his deal. “With this much information, it shouldn’t take long.” — “Take your time,” he shakes his head. “How much do you charge for consultation and the project itself?” 

“It varies. I can’t tell you the exact price yet,” you answer, writing down a few notes under Mingyu’s drawing of the house, making sure you remember everything the two of you talked about. “Alright, in that case, once you know the final price, just double it and send me the check, okay?” You frown, looking up at him. “What are you talking about?” 

“I guess you could say I’m giving you a hundred percent tip,” he shrugs as if it wasn’t a big deal. “But if you want a different tip, don’t hesitate to ask,” he smirks. You decide to ignore his comment. “I don’t need your money,” you remind him, but that doesn’t seem to budge with him even a bit. “You do,” he argues. “I’m giving you an advantage.” 

 “A what?” You raise your eyebrow confusedly. What was up with Kim Mingyu and his skill of confusing you? “So that the next time we go against each other in an auction, you have enough money to play a little longer,” he smirks, making you scoff. “Thanks, but no thanks,” you retort, annoyed. He shakes his head at you with a smile, standing up. You feel small all of a sudden when he does. It’s not only his height but also the way he stares at you—he makes you feel small. 

You stand up too but it doesn’t help much. Screw you, Kim Mingyu, and your tall ass. “Before I leave, can I get your number?” He asks, chuckling when he notices the look you give him. Honestly, you are cute when you try to stare him down as if he wasn’t towering over you. “I need a way to contact you about the project, you know,” he explains the reasoning behind his question, and you can’t say anything to that. “Don’t you have it already? I wouldn’t be surprised since you tracked down my office so well.” 

“I was just lucky,” he shrugs. “It’s not my fault my friend keeps going on and on about how great you did when designing his house.” A friend of his? “Minghao really likes what you did for his studio,” he praises you, and you finally connect the dots. Mr. Xu. “I–I see,” you stutter, feeling embarrassed immediately. Why on Earth would you stutter in front of him of all people? “You can tell him that I also enjoyed working with him.” Mingyu nods. “I will. Hopefully, you’ll say the same about me when we’re done,” he teases you with a playful wink. “I don’t think I will,” you grin, making him laugh. 

“Alright, my number is on the card,” you proclaim, handing him your business card. “But don’t use it for your personal enjoyment,” you warn him, but it’s as if you didn’t say anything when you wake up to five new messages the following morning from no one else but your new client Mingyu. 

“He’s kidding me,” you whine, rolling to the other side of your bed. You stare at your phone, debating if it’s better to answer or ignore him. Eventually, you decide on the latter. 

“You look…” Chan starts, trying to find the right words so he wouldn’t make you even angrier than you already were. “Annoyed?” He settled for the least offensive adjective that came to his mind, placing your coffee in front of you as you gazed into your laptop, too occupied with work to even look at him. You shake your head, blinking a few times when you sense his presence, questioning what he was doing. “I’m sorry, did you say something?” 

“Are you okay?” He asks simply, making you sigh. “Do you want to talk about it?” You think for a second, eventually moving your laptop aside and pulling the cup of coffee he brought you closer. “Okay, yeah, I’ll take my break now if you actually want to hear about it.” — “Of course I want to,” he assures you. “I’m not only your assistant but also your friend.” 

You love your friends a tiny bit more every time you speak to them. A part of you always thinks you don’t deserve them when they are this nice to you. 

“I didn’t tell you about Wonwoo, did I?” You make sure you start with the right thing, figuring out the answer is no when he gives you a confused look. “Well, you know we’ve been going out, right? A few days ago, we kissed for the first time,” you explain, and his eyes widen in surprise as he leans back onto the couch. “And I thought it was great! We were good and all, but then he texted me while I was asleep,” you sigh, getting irritated again just thinking of the message. “All he said was that he is sorry, but he won’t see me for the next two weeks. No explanation, no nothing. He couldn’t even bother with calling me or something! Instead, I woke up to that.” 

“That sucks,” Chan says, his tone understanding. “I get why you’d be upset. He could’ve told you earlier. And if he really forgot about it, he still could have at least called or stopped by when he was leaving.”

“Exactly!” You exclaim, feeling relieved that he gets it. “Thank you.”

“So, I called him,” you continue, “just to ask what the hell was going on.” Chan nods, following along. “And he couldn’t even explain himself. I asked him straight up if he even wanted to be with me, and he couldn’t answer. So, I hung up, and we haven’t spoken since,” you shake your head with a sigh. “He texted me a few times after that, but it was just him repeating how sorry he was, so I ignored it. Seokmin thinks I should call him, and see what he’s up to, but honestly, I feel like that would just make me look pathetic.”

“You wouldn’t be pathetic,” he assures you. “But I get what you mean. I think you shouldn’t be the one putting in the effort again when he doesn’t give you the same in return. Leave it up to him and see if he reaches out.” 

“What if we never talk again then, though?” You bit the inside of your cheek, your voice merely above whisper, almost as if you didn’t want him to hear. “Then it wasn’t meant to be,” Chan answers honestly, and even though you know he is right, it feels like someone stabbed you in the back. 

“When did this happen?” He carefully asks when you don’t say anything after. “He left two days ago,” you answer, sighing. You’re tired of it all, honestly. “I thought I could work to make my mind get off things, but it’s not working like I would want it to. I feel so much pressure, and it puts a block in my head or something.” 

“How about you relax tonight?” Chan suggests. “Should I take you out? Call everyone and see if they can hang out?” You think about it, eventually agreeing with him. When you are about to open your mouth again and thank him, your phone buzzes, and you grit your teeth as you take a deep breath when you notice who it is from. “And as if all of this wasn’t enough, I have this guy on my back all the time,” you whine, turning your phone around so you wouldn’t have to look at it. 

“Who is that?” He wonders, trying to think of a way to make you feel better.  “Mingyu,” you state, watching your assistant as he tries to keep track of all the names in his head. It’s obvious what he is thinking about when you look at him, and you admire him for his ability to have most of your clients’ names remembered. It was partly why you hired him in the first place. He has a good memory for names and can almost immediately connect people to projects when you talk about it. 

“He also attends auctions, so we met a few times,” you explain. “And then, apparently, since Mr. Xu talked about me so much, he thought it would be nice to ask me to design his parents’ house for him, too.” — “I’m not sure what his deal is, though,” you add, making Chan raise his brows in anticipation. “I don’t know, he just keeps trying to be around me, you know. It’s as if he is trying to get closer to me for some reason. He’s taking every chance he gets to talk to me. He is like a puppy.” 

“Before you say anything,” you warn him, making him laugh as he shuts his mouth again. “I know I usually find that attractive, but that’s when I’m interested. I can’t say that about him. Plus, in his case, I doubt he even means it in that way,” you explain, making sure he doesn’t get the wrong idea. “I mean, sure,” you start again, and Chan scoffs, knowing you are about to refute exactly what you just said. “He does call me by nicknames, but that doesn’t mean he wants me. He just wants to annoy me.” — “Mhm,” Chan hums, laughing. “I’m serious!” You complain. “Let’s just stop talking about it,” you stop him before he can say anything. “About tonight, should I call the guys?” 

“So we are in for it?” He asks, and you nod, smiling at him. “Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

He just can’t leave you alone, can he? 

You sigh when you see Mingyu’s phone number flash on your screen again, this time with a call. You wish you could just decline the call and block his number, but since you are now working for him, you can’t just do that. You hate not being able to win this battle. 

There might be something you hate even more, though. You are not sure anymore if it’s even him you have such a problem with. Maybe, possibly, it’s actually the fact he does everything you wish Wonwoo did. You want him to call you, text you, ask you how you are, just talk to you somehow, but he doesn’t do any of it, and you hate it. You hate Wonwoo, you hate Kim Mingyu, but mostly, you hate yourself for thinking about Wonwoo so much when he doesn’t even care. 

You don’t need him to chase after you—you wouldn’t want that even. But you want to see some effort. You want to know he likes you as much as you like him so you can feel secure. But instead, you feel scared. Scared that he is just going to disappear from your life without a word. 

Maybe he already has. 

Maybe your kiss was actually a goodbye. 

“Yes?” You ask, and Mingyu laughs into your ear. “You don’t have to sound so frustrated because I’m calling you,” he says, leaning back in his chair to make himself comfortable. “Alright, Mingyu, care to tell me what you need before I hang up on you?” 

“Calm down, sweetheart, no need to go that far now.” The snicker that leaves his lips makes you roll your eyes. You just can’t figure out what his deal is. “You didn’t answer any of my messages. I waited for you in the café, but you never showed up.” — “I had work,” you lie. “No, you didn’t. You don’t start work at 7,” he argues, so you try to come up with another excuse. “I don’t, you’re right. I was asleep at 7, and then when I woke up, I went to work right away.” 

“Why are you trying to lie to me? It’s not working,” he proclaims, enjoying the situation a little too much to your liking. He sounds like a stalker. “And why do you care so much? Isn’t it my thing when and what I do? Also, I told you not to call me for your personal stuff, so what are you doing?” — “Well, I had to know if you are okay, obviously. Since you weren’t answering my messages, there was no other way. What if something happened to you and I would have to find a new interior designer?” 

He has an excuse for everything, doesn’t he? 

“Okay, so, let’s say I start answering your texts sometimes. Will you not call me anymore then?” You ask, and Mingyu doesn’t hesitate at all as he agrees, holding onto the chance you gave him once again. 

Always. 

He always finds a way. 

“Then I’m hanging up now,” you proclaim, already taking the phone away from your ear when he yells at you to wait. “If it’s another–” He doesn’t let you finish when he hits you with another question, “What are you doing tonight? Do you want to grab dinner with me since you ditched me for breakfast?” He offers, making your eyes widen. Are you crazy, or is Kim Mingyu actually hitting on you? “I’m busy,” you brush him off. “With?” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath before you speak again. “That is none of your business,” you state. You know as much isn’t enough for him, though, so you continue. “I’m going out with friends.” 

“I could tag along,” he offers, even though he knows he is overdoing it with it. He just needs to use up the time he has in the best way possible. “Definitely not,” you reject him, quickly hanging up before he can say anything else. If he continues like this, the only thing that might help you is going to be a restraining order. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

Your laugh fills the room as Hansol hits his head on your ceiling. Adel, next to you, laughs along, covering her mouth as a snort leaves her lips, her eyes widening in embarrassment as she laughs even harder. “Oh, shut up!” He complains, holding his head as he sits back on your bed, glaring at everyone laughing. “Happened to me the first time I was over, too,” Soonyoung cackles. “Can’t relate to that,” Jihoon says, and in that moment, Hanni can’t hold herself back anymore either, bursting out into laughter as well. 

“I’ll go for the drinks instead,” you shake your head, still laughing as you get up from your bed, walking past everyone and then down the stairs to your kitchen. “I’ll help,” Seokmin joins you, sending one more snicker in Hansol’s way before he runs down to you. 

“Are you okay?” Your best friend asks, opening your fridge to take out more cokes while you grab a bag of chips and whiskey. “Yeah,” you nod, smiling. “I’m having fun. And Mingyu hasn’t texted me since I refused to go to dinner with him. Maybe he decided to leave me alone,” you laugh, but you know it’s only funny to you because you know that’s definitely not the case. “Mingyu as in the Mingyu?” — “Yes. The Kim Mingyu,” you answer, but it sounds like a mockery in your voice unlike when Seokmin said it. “I’m designing something for him, and since he got my number, he keeps bombarding my phone with messages,” you explain. 

“I…see,” he nods confusedly, the grimace on his face giving it away that he is thinking about something. “What is it?” You ask, leaning on your kitchen counter, knowing your friends won’t see you up as quickly as you thought. “I’m just…didn’t you say he looked like he was playing some mind game with you when you first met him?” Right. The first auction where you faced him. It was so long ago—still, you hate that he stole your painting from you. “What if he is doing the same now?” You shake your head, stopping him before he can say more. “It’s fine if he is,” you assure him. “I don’t care what he does. If he wants to flirt with me, then be it, but he isn’t going to get me to do the same. So, he can play whatever games he wants because I’m not going to get hurt by him.” 

“If you say so,” Seokmin nods, his uncertain tone of voice giving away that he doesn’t exactly believe what you said. “Let’s go back up before Hansol decides to go find us and hits himself again,” he laughs, making it impossible for you to keep a straight face. “Hey! I can hear you!” You laugh even harder when you hear Hansol’s voice, falling into Seokmin’s chest to calm yourself down. He pats your back when you do, the coldness of the drinks in his hands making you straighten your back immediately, a whine leaving your lips as you send a glare toward him. He chuckles, shaking his head as he walks out of your kitchen corner, going up into your bedroom again.

“So,” Jihoon clears his throat, exchanging a look with the others before turning his head toward you again, making you raise an eyebrow in question as you place the bottle of whiskey on your bedside table. “Mingyu, we’ve heard?” He asks, and you immediately glare Chan’s way, knowing it must have been him who told them about him. “No,” you shut down the conversation before it can even start. “For the hundredth time, whatever the fuck goes through his mind, isn’t my problem, and I do not care about him in the slightest,” you assure them, but you know Soonyoung doesn’t believe you a bit when he hums as he shares a glance with Adel. 

“I’m sure she would tell us if there was anything,” Hanni takes your side, sending you a warm smile. “But since I do not care about what he does, there is nothing to tell,” you nod, taking a seat on your bed again. “Enough about guys, though. They suck anyway,” you proclaim as if your group of friends didn’t consist mostly of guys. 

You’re happy with how things are, though. You can’t imagine your friend group anyhow differently. They make you laugh and are there for you all the time. What more could you want? 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

You wake up to your phone lighting up with new notifications. You roll over to the order side of your bed, slowly forcing your eyes open as you look at your phone. You groan, opening the chat with one of your clients. You debate on blocking him. Maybe you should. It would make your life a lot easier. But as you try to click on the three dots next to his name, you accidentally miss, and press the call button instead. You sigh when he picks up the phone immediately, bringing it to your ear. 

“Why exactly do you want to grab breakfast with me?” You ask, and he chuckles at how tired you sound. “Do I need a reason?” 

“Yes. Yes, you do.” 

“In that case, I want to talk about how the project has been doing,” he reasons. You rub your eyes, glancing at the time on your phone. “That can wait until my working hours,” you argue. “Can’t I just see you then? Why do I need a reason?” 

“You’re unbelievable, Kim Mingyu.” 

“Thank you,” your name rolls off his tongue, the echoing sound shaking in your ears. 

“Okay, when and where?” You finally give in, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he tells you the location of the same café you’ve been a regular in. “Give me fifty minutes,” you tell him, hanging up right after and closing your eyes again. Maybe if you just give him what he wants, he’ll leave you alone. 

“Good morning,” you smile at the barista, looking around the café to see if Mingyu is already there. When you lock eyes with him, he doesn’t hesitate to get up from his place and join you at the front of the line. You scoff quietly, asking the lady opposite you for a cup of iced coffee, as always. “Run it on my card,” he says, handing you his card. “I can pay for myself,” you remind him, but he just brushes you off. 

“And don’t forget to tip the nice lady,” he sends a wink toward the barista, making you cringe. “Don’t mind him,” you shake your head, sincerely sorry for what she has to deal with. “He’s the one I’m the least worried about,” the barista chuckles, running Mingyu’s card through her system. “But you will have to tell me where you get all these handsome guys from later,” she giggles, and it makes you smile, too. “I’ll see you another time,” you say your goodbyes softly, following Mingyu back to his table. 

“I’m not interested, Mingyu,” you proclaim as you take a seat opposite him. He looks up at you, his eyebrows raised with a smug smile on his face. “In?” He asks playfully, making you scoff. “In you. I’m not interested in you,” you state firmly, watching him nod. You hate how unbothered he seems. After trying his all to get a breakfast with you, he doesn’t even care? 

You shake your head, pushing those thoughts aside. You don’t care about it either. You couldn’t care less about what he thinks or if your words hurt him. 

But you are a liar. 

Because deep down, you care more than he does. 

“Yet, you are here with me.” 

“Because you wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

“Or maybe because you want to be here with me.” 

You don’t answer him and just take a sip of your drink. He smirks, reaching for his own drink. “I’m not all that bad, you know. I also have a heart inside my hot body.” 

“And you’ve ruined it,” you sigh, but a chuckle manages to escape your lips. “What? I’m just saying,” he shrugs, laughing. 

As you walk to your company, you look around properly to make sure no building looks weird. 

With Kim Mingyu on your side, making you laugh with his lame attempts at jokes, you feel like this has to be some twisted dream of yours and not reality. But all the buildings look fine, and there isn’t anything out of the ordinary. 

“If you decide to try the new sushi restaurant after all, let me know,” he proclaims, and you end up nodding. Why not? You swore to all of your friends you wouldn’t fall for Kim Mingyu’s charm, but you enjoyed hanging out with him today, so why not go out with him again? “I might,” you agree. His head falls down as he tries to hide his smile, but you notice it. 

“You can go now,” you stop in front of your company, biting back your smile as you look at him. “Thank you for the coffee and waffles.” 

“No problem,” he shakes his head, taking the empty cup of coffee from you so he can throw it away. “I’ll text you again later,” he assures you, but that’s something you’re counting on. 

“Have a good day, Mingyu.” 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

On Wednesday, you wake up to Mingyu asking you if you have slept well. 

On Thursday, your phone lights up with messages around lunch time when he asks you if you’ve eaten yet and if you want to grab a bite with him. 

On Friday, you find yourself smiling as you chat about your day with him over the phone in the comfort of your bed. 

On Saturday, you decide to grab breakfast with him again, and laugh loudly when you watch him trip on a flat ground, refusing to look you in the eyes after. 

On Sunday, you spend your day off with your closest friends, but your mind keeps drifting to him every chance you get, wondering what he is up to. 

On Sunday night, you decide to call him. 

Before you can realize it, it’s Monday, and Mingyu is asleep on your call. You listen to the sound of his breath—it’s calm and peaceful, and it makes you feel at home. 

On Tuesday, you forget your phone at home and think about him again as you stare into your laptop, trying to figure out something, anything for the project in front of you. But you just can’t focus. You keep wondering what he is up to. 

On the same night, he insists on having to see you the next day when he couldn’t reach you today. So you plan a meeting, offering that he could come to your office since you need to discuss the project with him anyway. Mingyu agrees immediately.

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

It’d be crazy to say you understand the saying, “When you know, you know.” 

The saying is illogical and never made any sense to you. But as you walk through your company building with Margaret by Lana Del Rey playing in your earphones, this time, you feel like you know. Like it makes sense. 

“You are smiling, m’lady.” And your smile grows even wider when you see the man standing in front of your office with a coffee in his hands. “And you, sir, are early,” you tell him as if he wasn’t already aware of that. 

“Couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking of you.” — You roll your eyes at how cheesy he sounds, taking out your keys to unlock your office door. “You got so excited because I called you to discuss your project?” You tease him, walking in first when he holds the door for you. “I didn’t expect you to be so into interior designs, Mingyu.” 

“I’m not,” he shakes his head, following you. “I’m into interior designers, and I’m just trying to see if you end up liking me.” 

It’s been a while since you started talking to him, so you got used to his presence. To his constant reaching out to you, to the incoming calls from him, and even to all the flirting. You knew he was pursuing you, and you stopped minding. He wasn’t ugly, and as you figured out over the time you got to hang out with him, he really wasn’t all that bad. 

Maybe you wouldn’t mind liking him. 

“Keep dreaming,” you respond, taking a seat in your chair. “Only if you dream of me as well.” You shake your head at him, looking through your folders until you find his project, showing him the few ideas you got over the past few days, trying to see what he thinks of them. 

When you hide your draft again, Mingyu doesn’t seem to be planning to leave anytime soon. “You got a little too comfortable there, don’t you think so?” You ask, watching him lying on the sofa in your office. “Yeah, I’m going to sleep here for a bit,” he states. “No, you’re not.” 

“Why not?” He whines, pulling himself up again to see you. “Alright, I’ll go,” he proclaims when he sees your face, refusing to mess it up with you now. “But let me take you out for dinner tonight. My place. I’ll cook.” 

“This is how you’re asking me out on a date?” You raise your eyebrow. 

Mingyu smiles, slightly nodding. “Yeah, I’m asking you out on an official date.” 

“Okay,” you also nod, biting back your smile. “I’ll come.” 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“You agreed to go on a date with him?!” Seokmin almost chokes up on his drink as he watches you stand in front of your closet, trying to pick what to wear. You don’t want to try too much but don’t want to show up in sweatpants, either. 

“Yeah…” you admit, turning around to face your best friend. “Is it a crazy idea?” 

Seokmin hesitates. “I mean, I don’t know. If you want to go with him, then you should. But…” 

“But?” 

“Isn’t Wonwoo coming back soon?” He questions, making you freeze. You forgot about that. You were so busy trying to shake Mingyu off your back and then playing along with his game that you forgot about the man you thought was going to be in your future. 

“Me and Wonwoo aren’t dating,” you remind, not only him but also yourself. “And he doesn’t want me either. If he did, he would have texted me or something.” 

“Alright,” Seokmin smiles, and it makes you even more confused. You never know what goes through his head. “If you want to go on a date with him, I’ll support you all the way.” 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem,” he shakes his head, walking closer to you and looking at the mess in your closet from behind your shoulder. “I get that you are worried,” you start, turning around to face your best friend again. “I don’t know what his intentions are, and I know I haven’t been hanging out with him long, but he makes me feel nice. I’m drawn to him for some reason. More than I ever was to Wonwoo.” 

“That’s all that matters,” he nods, making you smile. You’ve cared for Seokmin with your entire heart, and you knew it was the same for him. “Alright, get ready already so you’re not late,” he chuckles, turning you around and gently pushing you closer to your closet. You laugh, balancing yourself on your feet so you won’t fall. 

While you are getting ready, Mingyu, on the other side of the town, is currently running around his kitchen, making sure he has prepared everything. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. Preparing a dinner for you was the last thing he thought he’d be doing when he decided on this whole plan. 

“What is it, Hao? I don’t exactly have the time right now,” he asks, putting his phone on speaker while finishing up the main dish. “Fuck, I’m not even dressed, and she is going to be here soon,” he curses, catching his friend’s attention. “Who is going to be there?” Your name falls off Mingyu’s lips before he can even think about it as he grabs his phone and runs to his room to grab a shirt. 

“You two…are hanging out?” Minghao asks after a moment of silence, trying to figure out what is going on. “Yeah, we’ve got a date,” Mingyu replies, unbothered as he quickly scans his closet to find his lucky button-up. Then he stops. Why on Earth does he care so much? Why does he need his lucky button-up when he has a date with you? “A date?” Hao exclaims, and Mingyu doesn’t need to see him to know he is shocked. “I’ll…explain later. Why did you call?” 

Minghao clears his throat, confusedly looking around as if he was trying to remember what he wanted to say. “Coups and Jeonghan took us out to play basketball, but I guess I don’t need to ask you if you want to join anymore since you have plans.” 

“Shit, tell Cheol that I’ll make it up to him later. We can grab beer next week. Have a get-together or something,” Mingyu suggests, his eyes finally landing on the piece of clothing he was looking for. “I’ll let them know,” his friend agrees. “If anything, I’m just a call away.” Mingyu smiles, nodding before he says his goodbyes. He throws his phone on his bed and runs to his bathroom to get his perfume. 

He might have gone crazy, honestly. He couldn’t comprehend how his best friend could fall for you days ago, and now, he was trying to be perfect for a date with you. For all he knows, you might have cast a spell on him or something. He went into this thinking he had nothing to worry about, that he would wrap you around his finger with ease and do whatever he wanted with you, but now it seemed more like it might be the other way around. For the past week, he couldn’t get you out of his head. No matter what he was doing at the moment, if he was at work or home watching the TV, you were always on his mind. 

“What the fuck,” Mingyu breathes out as he stops in front of the mirror in his bathroom, looking at his reflection. “You aren’t falling for her, are you?” He asks himself. He stays quiet after that, taking a deep breath. “You fucking idiot, this isn’t what you planned. You aren’t supposed to like her!” He wants to yell at himself more, get himself back in his place, and not do anything stupid, but before he can even try to do something about his feelings, his doorbell rings, announcing your presence. He closes his eyes for a second, calming himself down before turning on his heel and heading to the door. 

“Hi,” Mingyu smiles at you, completely forgetting what he was yelling at himself for when he locks eyes with you. “Hey,” you greet him, the words barely making it past your lips as your eyes land on his body. His dark blue button-up wraps around his muscles, his black pants staying up thanks to his belt, and his hair fluffy. He’s hot. 

You hardly get the chance to breathe when you step inside before he is behind you, helping you out of your jacket. You don’t expect it. Anyone could guess that from your expression, but you can’t say you would mind. “It smells great here,” you comment, smiling as you turn around to face him. “I told you I’m just a cook,” a chuckle escapes his lips as he points towards the kitchen, letting you walk first. 

You keep looking around the house as you walk, admiring his choices of decoration. He definitely doesn’t have bad taste. “This is nice,” you nod, your fingers softly brushing over the paint on his wall. “I didn’t expect your house to be so…” 

“So what?” 

“Clean? Fancy? All of those above?” 

“What? Just because I’m a guy, my house can’t be clean?” 

“That’s not what I meant,” you shake your head, but deep down, you know he is right. He might be the first guy you’ve seen to have such a nice place. All of your ex-boyfriends looked like they never cared about how messy their places were, and it was always your biggest deal-breaker. So, seeing a change for once felt nice. 

“I also play sports, you know.” You scoff when you hear him, knowing very well what he is trying for. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, turning around. Mingyu doesn’t notice your turn in time and bumps into you, swallowing the lump in his throat as he steps back again. What does he mean? He isn’t sure. All he is certain about is that being this close to you doesn’t do him anything good. “You want me to tell you just how perfect you are?” Your words reach his ears only barely. He hears you, and the tone of your voice gets stuck in his head, but he isn’t able to comprehend any words. 

“I– I should get the champagne bottles I bought earlier! Make yourself at home in the meantime,” he quickly changes the topic, running off before you can say anything. You laugh at him, grinning at the thought of the blush you saw creep up his cheeks. You shake your head at him softly, turning around again to finally reach the kitchen. 

“I asked your assistant earlier—by the way, for some reason, I think he hates me—but he said you liked this one, so I’m hoping he didn’t just play with me.” You look up when you hear Mingyu’s voice again, smiling when you notice the bottle in his hands. “Don’t worry, he didn’t play you. That’s my favorite,” you assure him and chuckle when you see his shoulders relax. “Okay, good,” he exhales. 

“And he doesn’t hate you.” 

“I’m sure he does,” he argues with you. “He sounded more annoyed than you ever had when he picked up the phone and realized it was me.” 

“Do you want me to put in a good word for you? It’s true that I might have done the opposite before, and now he is…wary about you.” 

“You’ve spoken badly of me?” Mingyu’s eyes widen as he places two plates with the dish he made before on the table, two glasses and the bottle of champagne following right after. “Careful, m’lady. My feelings will get hurt.” 

You scoff. “That was before.” 

“Before?” The curiosity in his voice makes you gulp down. It feels pure. You are unable to find any bad intentions in his behavior, and it scares you. “Before…you’ve won me over,” you admit, looking down at your plate as you take the first bite, hoping he won’t dig much into it. 

“I’ve won you over?” He tries to bite back his smile but fails. “Don’t flatter yourself too much now, though,” you warn him. “Doesn’t mean you can’t lose me again.” 

The time seems to flow faster when you’re with him. You finish dinner and stay at the table, slowly sipping on champagne while talking. You barely register how time goes, and before you can realize it, the night turns into another day. 

“Shit,” you mumble, looking at the time on your phone. 1:27. “What’s up?” He wonders, slowly getting up to clean up the plates. “The time! Seokmin is definitely asleep by now, so I can’t call him to pick me up,” you complain. “Oh god, I should have been paying more attention,” you whine, closing your eyes and turning your phone off again. “You know, you can sleep here if you want to.” Your eyes widen at his offer, and a part of you is glad he has turned around at the moment and can’t see your face. “I don’t wanna–” 

“You can’t bother me,” he stops you before you can finish. “I can sleep on the couch and leave you the bed. It’s fine.” 

So you end up in his shirt and boxers, lying under his blanket while he lays next to you, telling you a story from his past. It makes you smile. “It’s late,” he comments quietly, sitting up. “I’m going to go to the living room.” You hesitate, but when he turns to get up, you reach for his hand, your fingers wrapping around the muscles on his arm. “I– what if you stay?” 

“You…want me to…” You nod, and that’s all he needs to lay back down. He’s also in his pajamas now, which, for some reason, only consists of pants. He pulls the other side of the blanket over himself, not taking his eyes off you as he does so. You can’t look away either, trying to read everything that hides behind his eyes. 

The moment is quiet, needy, and intimate as you reach your hand up to his face, your fingers brushing over his cheek. He leans into your hand, his eyes closed as he gets comfortable. You can feel your heart in your throat as you watch him, too scared that if you blink, he’ll disappear. 

When Mingyu opens his eyes again, it feels like his heart skips a beat. Being so close to you, looking you in the eyes, he knows exactly why Wonwoo fell for you in the first place. “Can I kiss you?” He asks carefully, and it feels almost vulnerable. As if he would break if you said no to him. “Please do,” you nod, and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to himself before his lips land on yours. The kiss isn’t rushed or harsh. It’s deep, full of all the emotions neither of you are able to say out loud. 

His hand slides down your thigh, glazing over your—his—boxers. His other hand slides up your shirt, stopping right under your breasts. Your gasp upon feeling his cold fingers on your skin gets muffled in the kiss, making him groan. “You can–” your sentence gets swallowed when his lips crash with yours again, this time with more need, almost desperate. His hand finally moves up again, squeezing your breast. He rolls you on your back, one of his hands reaching for yours while the other massages your boob, still unable to leave your lips alone. 

“I can?” He taunts, his lips moving to your jaw, slowly making their way to your neck and then collarbone. “Tell me, what can I do?” Your moan comes out shaky, your free hand sliding up his back, tracing his naked skin. “Anything– everything– God, Mingyu,” you gasp when he presses his knee against your core, your hand squeezing his. “Everything?” He hums against your skin, his kisses lowering to your chest. “So, can I take this off?” You nod impatiently, every inch of your body needing him in a way you couldn’t quite understand. “Please, hurry,” your plea sends shivers down his spine, but one part of him, in particular, feels it the most, and his cock twitches in his pants. Fuck. 

Mingyu slides your shirt off with ease, his eyes landing on your perky nipples immediately. “We shouldn’t,” he mumbles, but his actions don’t align with his words as his tongue licks your right nipple, his left hand taking care of the other one. “Definitely,” you agree, your head thrown back and moans leaving your lips. You’re not even sure what you agreed to at the moment. He could have told you he was the president of the United States for all you knew, and you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. “But god, you are so hot.” 

“Mingyu, please–” He hums against your skin, his pants becoming tight as he feels the boxers you’re wearing getting soaked under his knee. “What do you need, princess?” — “Need you,” you admit, moving your hips up and down. It’s embarrassing how wet you are when you are still clothed, and he is barely touching your pussy. He’s spent all the time playing with your boobs as if they were the greatest he’s ever seen, and even though he was incredible at worshiping your breast, the lack of attention on the bottom part of your body was starting to make you crazy. “Need your cock, so bad.” 

He groans, cursing under his breath as he sits up. “I don’t think I have a–” Before he can finish his sentence, you’re grabbing onto his hand, stopping him. “Go in raw. I’ll take the pill in the morning,” you assure him. “Please.” You sound desperate, and it’s safe to say Mingyu’s head spins because of you. If your needs contained his raw cock he couldn’t tell you no. Not that he would want to, anyway. 

He throws away your boxers without a second thought, the piece of clothing ending up somewhere on the floor where he’d have to find it in the morning. “Fuck,” he curses, freeing his dick right after when he sees just how wet you are for him. His fingers slide up your folds, collecting as much of your wetness as possible. “Shit, do you know how desperate you look for this?” He asks, bringing his fingers up again for you to see. “Maybe you are as desperate, actually, aren’t I right?” 

You feel embarrassed but nod despite it, unable to say anything as he slowly pushes his two fingers into you, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hand squeezes the bed sheets under you, your legs closing themself on their own, which only makes him hold them open. “It’s only my fingers for now, princess. You can’t lose your mind yet,” he coos, adding a third finger as his movements quicken, indeed making you lose your mind. 

“‘S too much! Too–” your voice breaks in the middle, and the only sound that leaves your lips after is a mixture of whines and moans, signaling just how good he makes you feel. “‘S okay, baby,” he coos. “I’m going to give you what you want in a second.” He pulls out his fingers, bringing them to his lips. “You taste so fucking good.” You feel like a drug. Every time he looks at you, he wants more. He needs you. In every way possible, and he will do anything to have you, no matter what anyone else says. 

Mingyu groans as he pushes the tip inside, reaching for your hand. You squeeze his hand immediately, wrapping your legs around his waist and trying to pull him closer. It works, somehow, and you feel another inch in you. The moment is like an impulse for him, a sign that you are ready, making him thrust his entire length into you. “My cock fits in your pussy so perfectly, fuck.” 

You are a drug. He is so confident in it when he slams his hips against you, filling the room with his groans while you moan his name, begging him to slow down. He can’t, though. You make it impossible for him. With the way you squeeze him inside, it feels like you don’t want him to pull out of you in the first place. “Mingyu! Wait, I’m–” His curses reach your ear as he leans down, pressing his lips on yours and squeezing your hand tighter. “I’m close too,” he groans, stealing another kiss from you. “Do you want me to–” 

“Inside,” you mumble before he can finish and he nods. 

His thrusts slow down, becoming sloppy as he reaches his orgasm, releasing inside your tight hole. He feels you cum right after, making sure to thrust a few more times to let you ride out your orgasm before he pulls out, watching as the mixture of his and your cum slides out. “You’re so fucking hot,” he praises, falling beside you. You chuckle, trying to catch your breath. His hand wraps around your waist, keeping you as close as possible as he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath along with you. “I can’t believe I ever convinced myself to hate you,” he mumbles, and you hear him slowly falling asleep. You close your eyes, your fingers tiredly tracing his arm as you think of what you just did. 

You had the best sex of your life. That’s what you did. 

As you glance at Mingyu’s sleeping figure, his sweaty hair falling in his face, you know you can’t let him go. 

But that only applies if he doesn’t do anything stupid.

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

You sit in your office with so many tabs opened on your laptop that you’re surprised it hasn’t crashed yet. It’s like any other day. You’re busy with work, barely having time to take a break and drink. But this time, it’s different after all. 

Because, on the other side of your office, Kim Mingyu is lying on your couch, a sketchbook in one of his hands and a pen in the other. You smile when your eyes wander to him. “Do you want to get out of here?” You ask, and he immediately turns to you. “Please, I’m so hungry.” You laugh, saving everything before closing your laptop and getting up. “Will you cook for us again if I let you sleep in my apartment tonight?” His eyes light up, and he nods instantly, jumping up from his place. He’s next to you before you can blink, making you giggle as he wraps his arms around you and places a kiss on your shoulder. “You know I’d do anything for you.” Yes, you do. Still, you don’t mind finding yourself an excuse to ask him to sleep over. 

“Let’s go,” you smile, offering him your hand. Mingyu intertwines his fingers with yours without hesitation, leading the way out of your office. 

Your laugh fills the hallway as you walk towards your apartment, hand in hand with your lover. Your laugh rings loud and clear in his ears, bringing a smile to his face as well. At least until he takes his eyes away from you and sees the man sitting by your front door. 

“Wonwoo?” You call out to him, making him look up immediately. Shit. Mingyu couldn’t be more fucked. Your name leaves Wonwoo’s lips without hesitation, and he quickly gets up from the floor. His suitcase is right next to him, meaning the first thing he did was stop by your apartment. “What are you doing here?” 

“Wha– Why are you with him?” Wonwoo doesn’t answer your question and gives you one instead. You blink quickly to make sure you heard him right, trying to figure out why he cares in the first place. You open your mouth to answer him, but no words leave your lips as your attention shifts to the man beside you when he lets go of your hand. You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion, looking up to meet his eyes. “You didn’t actually– He didn’t– Are you that stupid?” Wonwoo spits out, the disappointment in his voice hitting you hard. “What?” 

“Wonwoo, don’t.” Mingyu tries to stop him, his eyes desperate. “Is this how he played you? With his fucking puppy eyes?” 

“What are you talking about?” You ask, now even more confused, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “Wonwoo, we ended that morning. I don’t know what you think you can get from this, but it won’t work. I’m happy now.” Your words dig right into his heart, and you notice him swallow hard as if he had a lump in his throat. “Happy?” Wonwoo mocks your words, scoffing. “Because Mingyu told you some stories? Because he pushed me aside to play with you as if you were just his little toy–” 

“Wonwoo, that’s enough,” Mingyu interrupts him, his fist clenched, and he has to hold himself back to not hit his best friend right then and there in front of you. “No, it’s not enough at all!” He argues. “This was never supposed to happen! I never should have fucking left!” 

“But you did! And it’s not my fault she found out just how much better I am.” 

Wonwoo grits his teeth, his fist clenching just as Mingyu’s is. “Are you fucking–” 

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” You stop them, your eyes flicking between the two men. “How do you know each other?” 

“Baby, let me explain,” Mingyu starts immediately, making Wonwoo frown over the nickname. “It’s complicated, but– just don’t listen to him,” he tries to think of a way he can explain everything to you, but everything he thinks of only puts him into worse shit than he already is. 

You ignore him, feeling your heart slowly breaking apart as you glance at Wonwoo. “What the hell are you talking about?” Wonwoo sighs, opening his hand again when his eyes land on you. He hates seeing you this hurt, but he is sick of Mingyu and his toying with everyone around him. He might be his best friend, but that doesn’t give him an excuse to keep putting himself in front of the needs of others. He won’t stand that anymore. Not when you’re involved. 

He hesitates, glancing at Mingyu before he looks at you again, taking a deep breath. “I’m not going to be the one to break your heart,” he shakes his head, refusing to answer your question. “Let him explain everything. You made it pretty clear I’m done here,” he says, grabbing his suitcase. His eyes linger on you a bit more before he closes them, opening them again when he turns toward Mingyu. “Sometimes, being your best friend hurts.” 

Mingyu’s eyes soften, his heart breaking just as much as Wonwoo’s when those words leave his lips. “Wonwoo…” he starts, but the man is already on his way out, refusing to hear him out. “Fuck.” 

“This is a fucking bullshit,” he whines, hitting the ground as he squads down. You flinch, kneeling down to him and taking his hand to see if he was okay. “I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, and you already know whatever he is going to tell you will break you. “What was this all about?” You ask, even though deep down you don’t want to know. A part of you would rather live in the illusion of how perfect Kim Mingyu is than get hurt by him. 

“I–” he hesitates, looking up to see your face before he continues. He sighs, squeezing your hand in his as if it was supposed to ease the situation. “Uhm, back when you met Wonwoo in the café…that was my doing,” he explains, making your ears ring. The words only flow from his mouth after that, continuous apologies leaving his lips as he tries to excuse his behavior, tell you that it all changed when he actually met you, that it’s all in the past. But it isn’t. You’re only finding out about it now. It’s in your present, and you can’t ignore it. You move your hand back away from him, your look broken when he gazes into your eyes again. It breaks him, maybe even more than it breaks you. 

“Wait,” he tries to stop you, saying something about making it up to you, but you barely register any of his words as you get up, running away from him. You don’t know where you’re going or what you’re going to do. You just need to get away. Run from everything he just told you, from all the lies and games you have been a part of. 

You let your feet take you to the safest place you can think of at the moment—the person who was also your home. 

“What happened?” You don’t answer. Instead, you run into his arms, closing your eyes shut and trying your best not to cry. “Shh,” your best friend coos, rubbing circles on your back. He doesn’t need to know what happened, not now when you’re in this state, but he’ll make sure to ruin someone’s life when he finds out. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

It feels like you still have the knife stuck in your back when you sit on your best friend’s couch, a blanket wrapped around you as you wait for him to finish cooking lunch. You stare into nothing, your vision getting blurry as you think back to yesterday. His words ring in your ears again, and you feel like throwing up. 

I just wanted to find out more about you. I thought I needed to get you out of the picture to keep my title as the legend. I was scared of you. But then I met you—and I couldn’t– I can’t hurt you. I like you–

You shake your head, getting him out of your thoughts and turning around to see your best friend. He’s humming a song as he watches the oven to make sure he doesn’t burn anything, and it makes you smile. Who cares that your love life is terrible—you still have the greatest friends. Screw Kim Mingyu and Jeon Wonwoo, you can live without them. 

But your body says something else. You don’t feel like eating or even standing up to go out. All you want to do is lay in your bed and sleep. For as long as you can. 

“Hey,” Seokmin’s voice makes you snap out of your thoughts, questioning with your eyes what he needs. “At least drink some water,” he says, pushing a full glass in front of you. “It’ll be alright. This isn’t the end of the world,” he reminds you, and you hum. You know that. Of course you know that, but you can’t help it. You’re all over the place, and you hate that it was Mingyu who got you into this state. 

“Should I invite the others over? Maybe that could cheer–” 

“God, no,” you interrupt him. “I don’t want them to see me like this.” Your best friend nods, thinking over it. “What about Chan? Should I give him a call? Say you won’t come to work?” You hum again. It feels like a burden even to speak up. “Should I also explain what happened?” He hesitates as he asks you, and you hesitate as much when you answer. “You can,” you nod. “He’d call me anyway to ask about it if you wouldn’t give him a reason, so at least that gives me a call less,” you joke, but somehow, it only makes you feel worse. “I should go home,” you sigh. 

“Hey, relax,” he shakes his head. “You don’t bother me here, you know that. You can stay here for as long as you need,” he assures you. “I know,” you mumble, playing with the food on your plate. “Still, though. I need to work even if I won’t come to the office.” 

Seokmin sighs, trying to think of a solution. However, he gives up when he sees your expression. Maybe it would be better to leave you alone for a bit, let you rest, and figure out whatever you need. So he agrees in the end. “I’ll drive you later.” 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

As you lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind drifts off to him again. It makes you feel sick. 

You’ve never felt like this over anyone. In the past, when you had your heart broken, sometimes worse than this time, you cried about it for a bit and then collected yourself again, but this time, you can’t even cry. Everything about this feels wrong. Everything about Mingyu feels wrong. 

Yet, you never wanted to be closer to him. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

You have a missed call from Seokmin and Chan when you wake up the next morning. You decide to ignore it and roll over to the other side of the bed. You don’t have the energy to deal with them or anyone else. 

As you sit in your bed later that day, with plans of the Kims’ house, something in you breaks completely, and you don’t think anyone will be able to fix it again. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝ 

“Come on, open the door, please.” You groan when you hear your best friend’s voice from behind the door. “You know I have the keys!” He reminds you. You glance at the door, sighing as you get up from the couch, and open the door for him. Your eyes land on the three guys behind him, and you regret it immediately, glancing down at your pajamas. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath before you cross your arms over your chest, mostly to cover your hardening nipples from the cold air. “Why are you all here?” 

“Because we care about you,” Soonyoung speaks up, the sadness in his voice painfully obvious. You stand there for a second, rethinking your options before you step aside, letting them walk inside. “Wait here, I’m…going to change,” you inform them, not forgetting to send Seokmin a glare before you run upstairs, ignoring their chatter as you get to your closet. 

You glance over your back to what they are doing, closing your eyes as you already regret the question you’re about to ask. “Can you guys turn around?” For some reason, you feel embarrassed, and you guess Chan does too when you notice his ears turning slightly pink. Having a loft apartment was nice—until you had people over and couldn’t change without having to worry about them looking up and seeing you naked. Neither one of them protests and immediately listens to you. 

“Okay,” you sigh, walking down the stairs. “So, again, why are you here?” You ask, and the four boys face you again. “We were worried,” Jihoon comments. “You haven’t been picking up any of our calls,” Seokmin complains. “Sorry,” you mumble, taking a seat on your couch again. “I wasn’t feeling like it,” you say, but you know it doesn’t excuse anything. “That’s fine,” Soonyoung assures you, sitting beside you. “But a text would still be nice. To know you’re alive.” 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again and catch the four boys exchanging a glance. “I’m feeling a lot better now,” you lie. You have barely gotten out of bed for the past week, only going down to your kitchen when your stomach was being annoying about wanting food. You weren’t sure why you were feeling like this—so messed up and incapable of anything. 

Actually, you knew why. You just didn’t want to admit it. 

You couldn’t bear the thought of Mingyu, the man you felt so close to, using you as if you were his toy. 

“We brought you sushi,” Chan holds up a bag in his hands, making you smile. At least you knew these men weren’t here just to toy with you. 

“He’s been calling me,” you mumble between your bites, making all of them look up at you. You notice Soonyoung mouthing “Who?” toward Seokmin, and your eyes widen. He hasn’t told them anything. A part of you feels thankful, but you also feel bad for leaving them out of it and not mentioning anything when they are here now, doing their best to make you feel better without even knowing what got you into this state. 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, getting the attention back to yourself to explain it. “Wonwoo came back, and when he saw me with Mingyu, they started arguing,” you start, scrunching your eyebrows at the memory of it. “Turns out they are best friends—or were at least,” you correct yourself, unsure of what happened to them after Wonwoo dropped the bomb on him. 

“And also, Mingyu has been playing a fucking game with me from the start.” You spit the words out. But as angry as you are at him, your eyes soften when you remember him kneeling there in front of you, apologizing. You hate that, partly because you think he actually meant it. “Like…” Soonyoung starts hesitantly, but before he can finish his question, you continue. “Ever since we were in the café and bumped into Wonwoo. Mingyu was the one who sent him there to get closer to me.” 

It’s quiet after that, and the pity in their eyes makes you feel sick. You don’t want that from them. It makes you feel even worse when they look at you like that. 

“And now he is blowing up my phone. He said–” your voice breaks, and you stop to take a breath. “He said that was before he fell for me. That he likes me and wishes to take everything back.” — “Wonwoo also texted me. He apologized for ever being with Mingyu on the plan and for leading me on at first.” 

“Assholes,” Soonyoung sighs, receiving a look from Chan immediately. “What? I know damn well you guys are thinking it too!” He protests, not understanding why he’d glare at him like that for voicing his opinion. You chuckle, watching Chan’s freaked-out expression as he tries to shut him down. “It’s fine,” you shake your head. “I don’t want you guys to just sit here in silence while I talk.” Chan inhales but doesn’t say anything to that. 

“He also asked to meet up,” you add. 

“Who?” 

You roll your eyes, a chuckle leaving your lips. Does he have to make it sound like you have been seeing a handful of people at once? 

“Wonwoo,” you explain. 

“Do you think you’ll go?” Jihoon asks, finally speaking up too. He’s been trying to stay silent, listening to what you have to say without having comments that might make you feel even worse. You think about it for a bit, eventually nodding. “Yeah, probably. I…want to hear him out.” He nods to you, agreeing. 

However, Chan seems to have a different view of the situation. “Seriously? After everything, you want to see him and hear him out?” You know he doesn’t mean it like that, but it sounds like a laugh in your face. 

“Chan–” Jihoon tries to stop him before he can say something stupid, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint. “Both of them have been assholes to you, and that’s the nicest way to put it, and you still want to have anything to do with them?” He means well, you convince yourself, but can’t get over the fact of how mockery he sounds. “Come on, don’t be stup–” 

“Enough,” Seokmin interrupts, his voice strong. Your eyes wince, and you glance at him. “It’s okay, Min,” you assure him, surprised at his sudden reaction. “He can have his opinion.” 

“But he doesn’t need to be rude with it.” 

“I’m…sorry?” Chan’s eyes widen, looking at Soonyoung for some sort of help. “I just– It feels weird seeing you so out of place,” he glances back at you. “I’m not used to it, and it makes me worried. I don’t want it to get any worse, so I’m looking out for you.” Your eyes soften, and you send a smile his way. “I know, Chan,” you assure him. “But I’ll be okay. I promise.” 

And you’re confident you will because Wonwoo isn’t a bad person. You know you don’t have to worry about meeting him, which sadly isn’t something you can say about Mingyu. You know that if you were to meet him, you’d probably fall into an even worse place than you already are. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝  

As you walk through the door, the smell of baked cookies hits you immediately, and a smile curls up your lips. The cozy place makes you feel at home. Without you realizing it, the coffee shop turned into your comfort place over time. And so did the sweet lady behind the cash register, who always greets you with a smile. 

“Good morning,” she smiles warmly. “Good morning,” you greet her back, smiling just as much. “Caramel macchiato?” She wonders, and you nod. “Add extra sugar, please.” She chuckles, nodding as she makes a note of your order before passing it to her colleague. “He’s sitting over there,” she informs you, trying not to be obvious as she points toward the table of two you usually occupied when you came here with Wonwoo. “Thank you,” you whisper back. “I hope you have a nice day.” 

“Hi,” you greet the boy with glasses as you take a seat opposite him, placing your cup of coffee on the table. “Hey,” he looks up with an awkward smile. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again right after. “What is it?” You raise your eyebrows confusedly. He shakes his head, and it’s supposed to be a sign for you to drop it, but your expression doesn’t change, so he sighs. “You look good,” he admits so quietly you almost don’t hear him. Almost. 

His comment gets stuck in your ears, the words echoing in your head. You look down at the table, hating what goes through your mind at the moment. Wonwoo is sweet, and you know the last moments you spent with him were real—probably more real than anything you ever had with Mingyu was, but you just can’t bring yourself to him anymore. Not because of the situation he got you in or because of what he did, but because no matter how much you want to protest, your heart belongs to his best friend now. And it will for a while. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, hiding yourself behind your cup as you take a sip of your iced drink. “I know you didn’t come here because you’d want to hear those words from me, but that doesn’t change the fact I mean it.” You smile, gazing into his eyes for a brief second. “I know you do, Wonwoo,” you nod slightly. “But just as I know that, you know I can’t.” The rest of the sentence hangs in the air. It’s something you tell each other with your eyes, and it’s enough. He understands. That, you are sure of. 

Wonwoo nods. “Did he…What did he tell you?” The hesitation in his voice is obvious, but you take it as a sign of nervousness since he has an idea of how badly the conversation must have gone. You take a deep breath, staring into your cup of coffee as you repeat Mingyu’s words. They are still as vivid as they were that day, way too real. 

“We haven’t spoken since,” he admits suddenly, taking in everything you told him. To his surprise, Mingyu hasn’t changed anything to his advantage to seem like the nice guy in the end. You only hum in response. “I feel bad,” he sighs. 

“About?” 

“Everything. About everything I did in the past two months.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“But it is,” he argues. You breathe out, not having enough energy to argue with him. Especially since you know he is right. He wasn’t innocent. It was just easier to blame Mingyu and hope that might make you hate him. Even just slightly. 

“I should have never agreed to do this. I should have talked him out of it and told him how bad of an idea that was. I wish I could go back.” You frown at that. “You can’t go back.” 

“I know.” He sounds exhausted now that you pay closer attention to it. Your eyes flick up to meet his, and you notice the dark circles under his eyes. Suddenly, his skin wasn’t as flawless as when you met him for the first time. You feel bad for him somehow. You know that should be the last thing you’re thinking of, but you can’t help it. 

“I’m aware it might not look like that now, but he isn’t a bad guy. He’s just sometimes…putting himself before others in a way he shouldn’t.” 

You sigh, feeling the exhaustion hit you as well. 

“I don’t know what is so important to him about the painting or why he thought he needed to do this in order to buy it for himself, but I’m sorry. For ever being a part of this and doing things I normally wouldn’t.” 

“What painting?” You ask confusedly, and Wonwoo’s eyes widen when he realizes you don’t know everything after all. “I’m not– I think it goes up next week,” he answers, trying to remember what Mingyu told him about it. Honestly, it wasn’t much. Wonwoo wasn’t exactly oriented when it came to art. That was more of Mingyu and Minghao’s thing. 

“Is it this one?” You quickly unlock your phone, going through the upcoming list of auctions to find what you have in mind. You show him the phone, and he nods. You scoff. Of course. “It’s part of a collection,” you mumble, turning the phone toward yourself again. “I completely forgot it was going up for sale.” 

“It all makes sense now,” you sigh, looking at the picture on your phone. It’s a part of the Shadows and Glimmers collection, the same one your Whisper of Hope belongs to. It only makes sense he wants the painting. You would have too if he hadn’t outbid you back then. 

The painting shows a calm autumn scene. There’s a water path in the middle, small rocks lining the side, along with trees covered in orange and yellow leaves. Just like Whisper of Hope, it’s supposed to signal warmth and peace in nature. As far as you’re aware, it’s supposed to be from the other side of the mountains, showing that even cold places like these have another side to them. 

“Does it make sense? Because I can’t see what’s so good about it.” — You chuckle, shaking your head. “I think it has a deeper meaning to the both of us,” you mumble as you stare into your phone. You catch Wonwoo raising an eyebrow at that, but you don’t say anything. Not when you realize what you had just said. 

It does have a deeper meaning to both of you, something Wonwoo or your friends couldn’t understand. But you understand, and you know Mingyu does too. 

You close your eyes, trying to push the thought aside and not do anything you’ll regret later, but your heart takes over at the moment, and there’s nothing you can do now that you’ve decided. 

You’re going to the auction. 

And you will fight for what’s yours. 

If your thoughts drift to the painting or the man himself at the moment is something you’d rather not pay attention to. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝  

“Sometimes, whatever is going on through your head scares me,” Jihoon comments, making you chuckle. “Why? I don’t see anything weird about this.” He raises an eyebrow at you, Seokmin copying his movement. “Alright, yeah, maybe it is a stupid idea,” you admit with a defended sigh. “And I might regret it. But I’m not going there for him.” 

“Right,” Seokmin hums, exchanging a look with Jihoon. You roll your eyes at them, fixing your dress. “I’m only going because I want the painting. He might have gotten the first one in the collection, but I’m taking this one,” you say confidently. “I’m going to have my fun, maybe find a cute enough guy to leave with, and not pay any attention to Mingyu. That’s tonight’s plan.” 

“Well, good luck with that.” The tone in Jihoon’s voice makes you doubt yourself for a second. If they don’t believe you when you say you won’t break down the moment you see the handsome, tanned man, how are you supposed to believe in yourself? 

Honestly, you can’t blame them, though. Because you don’t believe in yourself either. 

As you step into the familiar building, you feel anxiety rush through you. Your eyes keep wandering around the room without you being able to control them, searching for the man himself. 

You only get to snap out of your thoughts when you hear your name from behind yourself, turning around to see who was calling you. You sigh, every sign of hope that was previously in your eyes disappearing as your eyes land on the man behind you. “Joshua,” you greet him politely, looking around once more, this time to find an escape route. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he comments, offering you the glass of wine in his hands. You decline with a slight head shake. “I was busy,” you excuse. “So busy you couldn’t call again?” 

Joshua Hong. One of the finest men you got to play with in your past. He wasn’t anyhow bad as he was, and you probably would have called him if you had met under different circumstances, but it wouldn’t have been you if you had done that to him. It was already enough that you had used him before to get some extra money for an art piece you wanted. 

“I’m sorry, but you know how it goes.” 

“Do I?” He chuckles, looking down at his wine. “I guess I know how one-night stands go, yeah,” he nods, his eyes meeting yours again. “But what if I say I don’t care about the past? That we could start again and pretend you never toyed with me?” A part of you pities him. You open your mouth to apologize, say just how sorry you are, but you realize it wouldn’t change anything. 

“We could leave tonight acting like nothing happened,” he offers. “And get to know each other again.” You know everything about what he just said was meant sexually, and it makes you feel gross. “Uhm…” You start, trying to find an excuse for yourself. 

“I don’t think she wants to explore you in any way.” You freeze when the familiar voice reaches your ears. It’s loud, deep, and strong. The sound echoes in your ears, making you look up to see him immediately. His arm wraps around your shoulder, holding you close to himself, and you feel like your heart stops for a moment. “So why don’t you get lost?” He hisses at Joshua. The shorter man glances at you, but you just send him an apologetic look, not saying anything else. You feel like even just opening your mouth might cause him to leave. 

You barely register Joshua walking away as Mingyu turns you to face him, his eyes soft when he sees your face. “Sorry,” he swallows nervously, bringing his arms back to his side. “I just–” he swallows the rest of his sentence when you take a step back. It feels like he can’t breathe. He hates being this close to you and yet being so far. What happened in front of your apartment back then might have hurt him more than it did you. 

“Thank you for that but…I will take my leave now,” you mumble, barely looking him in the eyes as you quickly turn around, running off to the bidding room as fast as you can without looking awkward. 

It’s only then that Mingyu exhales, closing his eyes in regret. There was so much he needed to tell you. And now that he knew you were here, he wasn’t sure if he could focus on the whole auction. But he has to. He has to do this no matter what. 

Mingyu takes a seat on the other side of the room from you, trying his best to keep his eyes off you. But it feels impossible. With the way your dress hugs your body and how you try to be inconspicuous when your eyes search around the room, he is sure to go crazy soon. He isn’t sure if you’re looking for the guy he pushed away from you earlier or him, but he hopes for the latter. 

The bidding starts soon after, making him snap out of his thoughts and focus on what’s happening on the podium. One painting goes after another, but Mingyu doesn’t care enough to try for any of them. He knows that if he wanted them, he would have had no problem getting them, but there is no reason for him to do so. He is here for the star of the show. 

There is a wave of fear that rushes through him when his eyes land on you again and he realizes you haven’t tried for any of the paintings so far either. This was exactly the situation he wanted to prevent. He isn’t so confident now, knowing you could go for the same painting he wants. 

With anyone else, he didn’t have to worry about a thing. Thanks to his reputation, the moment he’d raise his number, all other interested parties would give in, and it’d be like a walk in the park for him. But with you in the game, that isn’t going to work. He inhales through his nose, ignoring the stares from people around him as his grip on his number plate tightens. 

“2 millions.” He hears the familiar voice and looks your way, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head as he raises his number. “5,” is all he says, trying his best not to meet your eyes. If he did, he’d have to give up the whole auction. He wouldn’t be able to go against you. 

It’s a fight against the two of you the whole time. If anyone else raised their number plate and called out a number, Mingyu didn’t even notice it. All he can hear is your voice. It echoes in his ears, the soft, clear sound making his heart ache every time he has to bid higher than you again. 

“For fucks sake,” he mumbles. “I’m not letting you pay for it,” he says, squeezing his number plate even more, to a point he knows it will break if he doesn’t let go immediately. “I’ll take it for 32,” Mingyu calls out and watches you stare into your lap. Your shoulders tremble in regret, and he hates seeing you like this. All he wishes to do is run to you right away and pull you into a hug. 

But as the moderator announces he has won the painting and he sees you standing up from your place, excusing yourself as you pass the people around you to get to the nearest exit, he can’t even be happy about getting the painting. 

You’re not sure what you feel as you walk out of the building. Resent, anger, shame, or maybe you don’t feel anything at all, actually. One thing. It was the one thing you wanted to take away from him after everything, and you failed again. “Screw you, Kim Mingyu,” you mutter, taking out your phone to call yourself a taxi. You freeze when, at the same time, your screen lights up with an incoming call, and his name pops up. No. No, you can’t give in. Not now. 

It takes everything in you to turn off your phone, closing your eyes so you won’t be able to see it anymore. But he just can’t leave you alone. 

You hear your name behind yourself, his voice desperate, pleading. “Go away,” you whisper, unable to say it out loud. Because deep down, you don’t want him to leave you alone. You want to be close to him just like you were before everything. 

He doesn’t answer anything, and it makes you go insane. He messes with your head no matter what he does, no matter if he says anything or stays silent. You hate what power he has over you. 

You feel the warmth of his hand on you, and it makes you flinch. Before you can pull your hand away from him, he reaches for it again, turning you around with one easy pull so you would face him. 

His eyes are soft, apologies written all over them. His lips are slightly parted as if he were about to say something, and his wavy hair reaches under his eyes. It has grown since you last saw him. 

“Look me in the eyes, tell me you want me to leave, break my heart however much you want, and I’ll go, but please, hear me out first.” 

He takes a step forward, closing the space between you, and you feel like you can’t breathe. With him this close, you can’t avert your eyes or protect yourself from him. “You took another painting from me.” Your complaint sounds more broken than you’d want it to. His eyes soften as he exhales, squeezing your hand in his while his empty hand reaches to cup your cheek. His thumb brushes over your skin, and your breath shakes. When your eyes lock with his, you know you can’t escape him again. Not now, not ever. 

“I didn’t,” he shakes his head, his thumb moving up to your eye to stop the tears falling from your eyes. “Did this for you.” — “No,” you shake your head rapidly, trying to build a wall between you again so he wouldn’t be able to hurt you. “You don’t do anything for anyone else.” 

“I’d do anything for you,” he argues. 

“Stop lying.” 

“I mean it.” You gaze into his eyes, and you hate that you can’t find a single sign of this being another one of his games. There’s nothing but honesty in his eyes, and it breaks you even more. Your head falls on his chest, and you raise your hand, weakly hitting him. “No,” you’re desperate. Desperate to find a reason to hate him, to turn around and run from him. 

You break in his arms, tears rolling down your cheeks as he wraps his arms around you, rubbing circles on your back to calm you down. He keeps you close, not saying anything as you hit his chest over and over again. “I hate you,” you mumble, but you both know you don’t mean it. 

You look up to meet his eyes, biting the inside of your cheek. “I’ve never regretted anything in my life as I regret ever hurting you,” he whispers, his hand moving from your back to your waist. “I’ve never thought of anyone as much as I’ve thought of you. Never chased someone like this, never needed anyone as much as I need you.” 

“Mingyu,” you say his name with the last bit of strength in you, but your poor attempts at keeping him away go to waste as you feel his lips press against yours. The kiss is urgent, fragile, and conveys all the emotions Mingyu is unable to say out loud. 

“I hate you,” you cry again, trying to convince yourself more than him. “And I love you,” he responds, chasing after your lips again. You give up at that moment, allowing yourself to kiss him back. You don’t want to fight it anymore. You can’t. 

“The painting is for you,” he breathes out. “What?” Your eyes widen, but he doesn’t answer your question anymore. Instead, you find yourself wrapping your legs around his hips and tightly holding onto his shoulders as he picks you up, not caring about anyone around. “I came here just to buy it for you,” he proclaims, trying to search with his eyes for his car while his lips stay on yours. He is unable to keep his mouth away, needing you as close as possible. 

“But you–” He interrupts you with another kiss, making you yelp as he walks towards his car. “I don’t care about the painting anymore, nor the collection. I’d give it up anytime for you.” His words ring in your ears, playing on repeat until your back hits his car, and he finally places you down. The hunger in his eyes is obvious, a whine leaving his lips in protest when you slide inside his car and close the door behind yourself. He just can’t get enough. 

The car ride is blurry in your eyes. You’re not sure what was said, which road he took, or how long it took him to park in front of his house. All you can think of is his hand on your thighs, squeezing the flesh every chance he got, stealing a kiss from you every time he stopped at a red light. 

“Wa–wait,” you stop him as your back pressed on his front door, his lips on your neck. You regret it immediately when you see the puppy eyes he gives you. “We shouldn’t,” you say, but your body does something completely different as your hands wander over his stomach under his shirt. “We– I–” 

“Let me make it up to you,” he mumbles against your skin as he places another kiss on your collarbone. “Apologize for everything I did. And the things I didn’t do.” Your head hits his door, and a moan escapes your lips, your breath heavy. “Okay,” you nod in the end, unable to resist him much longer as you feel a wet patch creating between your legs. 

And that’s how you get to his bed again, your dress thrown to the floor, long forgotten along with Mingyu’s shirt. “So pretty,” he coos, his tongue tracing your inner thigh, making its way up to your needy pussy. His thumb rubs slow circles on your clit through your panties, groaning when he sees how wet the piece of clothing gets when he touches you. “I missed you. Missed you so bad,” he mumbles, pushing your panties to the side. “Kept thinking about you. All the time.” You’re unsure if his words are just needy blabs or if he means them, but you definitely aren’t in the right mind to figure that out now. 

“Min–” you swallow the rest of his name as you feel his tongue slide between your folds. You gasp when he tears your panties apart with ease, throwing them on the floor. His fingers part your folds, and he takes a minute to watch you as you try to thrust your hips up. “Patience, baby,” he coos, leaning down again to kiss your clit. His kisses slowly turn into sucking, his two fingers pushing inside to stimulate you more. “Oh, God,” you moan out, throwing your head back while your fingers find his locks, pulling on his hair. 

“That isn’t my name,” he says, pinching your clit as he looks up to see your face. Your whines fill the whole room, and it’s like pleasure to his ears. “Mingyu! Mingyu, Min,” his name leaves your lips repeatedly until he goes back to sucking on your clit and his fingers thrust into you again. 

The whines and groans that leave his lips as he presses his nose against your clit and licks your slick make your head spin. You’d let him do anything if it meant hearing him like this. If you had known he could get so pussy-drunk, you might have ignored the whole situation in the first place. 

“I’m– so close,” your moan comes out broken as he sucks harder. “Mhm,” he hums against your pussy. It doesn’t take much longer, and as Mingyu makes out with your cunt, you cum on his lips. Your breath grows heavy as you ride out your orgasm on his face, trying not to feel embarrassed as he starts blabbing again. 

You look at him, your heart beating faster as you lock eyes with him. There really is nothing but pure love behind them. You hesitate before you slowly sit up, his eyes watching you confusedly. “Come here,” you speak softly, and he doesn’t question you and does as you say. You tug on his belt, getting it off along with his pants while keeping eye contact. The change in his eyes when you do so is something you could watch forever. 

“What are you–” 

“Returning the favor since you’ve been so good,” you mumble, his mind going blank. He’s been good? The words repeat in his head, his mind wandering to fantasies he’d rather not tell you about yet. 

He helps you pull his boxers down, his already hard cock leaking with pre-cum. You look up at him one more time before you focus on his trembling cock, kneeling down in front of him and lightly squeezing him in your hand. 

Mingyu groans as you slowly move your palm up and down, your fingers quickly becoming coated in the shiny layer of his arousal. Rolling your wrist over his tip, you swallow hard as you feel his cock twitch under your hands. You squeeze harder, your movements becoming faster. “You– f-fuck. How much have you been training for this?” He breathes out, and had it been a different situation, you might think he’s calling you a slut. But you know he isn’t in his right mind at the moment. He hasn’t been since he kissed you for the first time after the auction. 

He tugs your hair behind your ear, his fingers softly brushing over your cheek. You look up at him, nodding to yourself when you see him biting his bottom lip. His hips buck up against your hand, and he lets out a strangled noise. “Slow–Slow down. Gon–Gonna cum soon.” That’s what he says, but when you let go of his cock, the disagreeing whine he lets out tells you all you need to know. 

You switch your hand with your mouth, giving his leaking tip a kitty-lick before you take as much of him as you can, his cock twitching in your mouth. He doesn’t hesitate after, his hands holding onto your face as he fucks into you, his tip hitting the back of your throat. “Shit– you’re too good, baby,” the praise leaves his lips before he can even realize what he’s saying, too lost in the moment as he watches his cock disappear in your mouth. You gag when he pushes into you with full force, but don’t pull away, ignoring the tears creating in your eyes and sucking on him harshly. 

Mingyu doesn’t bother telling you as he gets closer to his climax, releasing in your mouth without any notice. You gag again at that but make sure there isn’t a single drop of cum leaving your lips as he pulls out with a groan. “Fuck,” he breathes out, his dick twitching again when he watches you swallow. He’s never been this obsessed with a blowjob before. 

You straighten your back again, placing your hand behind his neck and pulling him closer until your lips meet. The bitter taste of his cum makes him frown for a second before your tongue meets his, and it becomes the last thing he is worried about. He pushes you back onto the bed, deepening the kiss as his hands wander over your body, squeezing your breast, his fingers brushing over your tummy, his hands harshly gripping your waist, and lastly, his fingers reaching your clit again. You moan at the touch, trying to tug on his hair again, but it’s no help. He needs to make you cum again, no matter if you’re already feeling overstimulated or not. 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝  

As the smell of freshly done eggs reaches your nose, you groan and turn around on the bed. Slowly opening your eyes, you blink a few times when you see the mess on the nightstand. Your place definitely doesn’t look like that. 

Then it hits you. A wave of realization runs through you and you sit up, looking around the room to see if he was there. You breathe out and close your eyes when you don’t see anyone, collecting your memories of last night. Seokmin is going to kill you when he finds out. 

You run your fingers through your hair as you try to figure out your next move, but all your thoughts disappear when the door opens and your eyes land on the man you have so much history with. He is shirtless, his sweatpants hung low, and he is holding a plate in his hands. Your eyes soften at the sight. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he smiles, and you melt immediately. You can’t even be mad at him. 

You know you should regret it, collect your things, run away as fast as you can and never see him again, but it’s impossible when he looks at you like this. 

“Sleeping beauty?” You raise your eyebrow at the nickname, watching him as he walks over to you and sits at the edge of his bed. “I have a feeling you’d kick me in the balls if I called you a princess,” he chuckles, offering you the food in his hands. “And you are a beauty, so why wouldn’t I call you that?” 

“Come here,” you whisper, putting the plate aside. Mingyu’s eyes follow you confusedly, but he listens, moving closer to you. His hand runs up your covered leg, holding eye contact to see your reaction. He isn’t sure what he can and cannot do at this point. You hesitate, looking into his puppy eyes before you lean closer to him, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Let’s start again and better,” you mumble, and the way his eyes lit up makes your heart skip a beat. Only he could have this kind of power over you. 

“I’d love that more than anything.” 

♡⸝⸝ ♡⸝⸝  

“I don’t trust you.” 

Mingyu chuckles awkwardly, looking around the room for some help. However, all he is met with are killing stares from your friends, who haven’t grown to like him yet so much. 

You laugh as you put your hand around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder. “They are just teasing you,” you assure him, but he isn’t so sure about it as Soonyoung narrows his eyes at him, not breaking their eye contact as he holds his girlfriend beside him. “Right…” 

“Okay, who wants a drink?” Adel stands up to ease the awkward situation. Hansol—her now boyfriend—gets up with her, counting the raised hands so they could get everything. “Please, don’t kill him while we are gone,” she adds, purposely sending a glance at Seokmin and Soonyoung. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to miss it,” Hansol laughs, and she smacks his arm immediately. “Just go.” 

You shake your head at them. “Come on, guys. We talked about this,” you sigh when their stares don’t stop. It’s been a month since you decided to forgive Mingyu and left the whole thing behind you and three weeks since he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. Yet, the guys couldn’t seem to find their way to him. For some reason, they made it seem like he had hurt them more than you. 

“You guys are making it look like he killed your moms or something.” You turn your head to the side, smiling. “See? Even Wonwoo thinks it’s stupid.” 

Jeon Wonwoo, your past lover and Mingyu’s best friend. Chan said it was weird for you to still talk after everything, but when he and Mingyu made up, and he reached out to you to offer a friendship, you couldn’t just send him away. If he didn’t mind seeing you with his best friend, you didn’t have a problem with it either. 

The quiet tsk that leaves Seoonyoung��s lips makes you roll your eyes. They were holding a grudge against him for no reason. “Look, if you have such a problem with him, then we are leaving,” you proclaim, making sure they know you are a package deal. “Baby,” Mingyu stops you before you can stand and prove your point, shaking his head as he strokes your arm lightly. “It’s fine, I get them.” 

“It’s not fine,” you disagree. “Seokmin and Soonyoung need to pull their heads out of their ass and realize I couldn’t care less if they approve of you or not.” 

Your best friend gulps down as he watches you. You’re mad and not just a little annoyed with him mad like you always are. You’re pissed. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Seokmin apologizes, encouraging Soonyoung to do the same. “I admit I took this little too far.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Soonyoung mumbles, Hanni beside him shaking her head at him. “Sorry.” 

You sigh. Mingyu wraps his hand around your shoulders to put you at ease, and you turn your head to him with a smile. He returns your smile, leaning closer to place his lips on yours. There’s a grin on your face as you kiss him, ignoring the presence of all your friends. Because when you are with him, you forget about everything and everyone else. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, a secret for you and him only. You bite the inside of your cheek to constrain your own smile. Otherwise, you might look like a middle schooler who has just got together with her first crush. 

“I love you too,” you whisper back, and as if to seal the secret, you place another kiss on his lips. 

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @adel222 @liaatiny @cherrylovescheol @bamgeutsz @codeinebelle @gyuguys @ninigyuuu @whoa-jo @lixisoul99 @archivegyu @very-important-army @blaycke @cxsmicgyu ✶⋆ want to get notified? join taglist here!

[gangstalkerbarbie]

You can do this. You know how. This isn't your first run-in with the Inquisition, and it's not going to be the last. Your hands are wet — you think of your children, of your reputation, of your man. But look at her — look at her, she's a child, she's a child too. The Inquisition is stealing children. Their children first, yes, witches' children, whoever the witches are now, but it never ends there, does it? And in the meantime here she is, here she is. Where you once were.

"Be quiet." Good Ecclesian girls aren't afraid of beadles or city watchmen or paladins. They don't quail from the amulets that purport to detect spiritual evil. Good Ecclesian girls exhale sparkles and sweat rosewater, they want to marry Inquisitors and give them ten babies, they want Inquisitors to like them more than anything in the world. You could fake that, once. You faked it to get here, didn't you?

But she doesn't have it in her. Kids don't know what you know: how to glide when you walk like you belong on these streets, how to look distracted and coquettish as a kirkmouse for public consumption, how to swallow every urge you have to say anything, do anything that might give you away. Kids think maybe now is a good time to grow up, maybe now is a good time to resist, little flowers fighting for sun in a wheelrut. They have to do it like that; there has not been invented another way to be a child.

And this is a child, and what a child — a child like you were, an almond-eyed little horned Azara. Ishkuzi, unlike you, or maybe a daughter of wildshade slaves from the Tavrida. In your day they disbudded children hoping to hide them; you remember the cold of that winter night, and the bitter anesthetic herbs, and the pain. Do they not do it anymore? Did she have no one to do it for her?

You remember why you had it done, though you were born too rich to need to. And then you tricked your father out of your mother's wedding ring and of his livelihood and of his soul; you ran away to marry a good Ecclesian boy, Isca, you stupid whore... (He had money, he had ships, so did the pirates, woe to you. We all do what we can for ourselves.)

Are her parents anti-assimilationists? Maybe her father is a sage, a dreadnought, maybe he's horned, like they should be, despite it all. Maybe she never knew they do this in cities. She looks country. She has wild-tiefling eyes, Ishkuzi eyes. She knows to be quiet, but not how to be quiet, not here. That's why she looks at you like that, already half betrayed.

But she listens. She lets you decide what to do for her, and what you decide is this: not here. She can't stay with you. She has to find somewhere they have no reason to come back to, and if Renzo's house on High Street in this beautiful city that is not, cannot be your city, was ever a place like that, it's not anymore.

Two female figures drift like unhurried black swans to the quay. You are a citizen, wife of a citizen, and this is your daughter, see? You slipped out the servants' door with her while your husband's footman spoke to the Inquisitors, yes, and you didn't know her until an hour ago, but now you are two respectable city ladies off to go and watch the ships come in. Perhaps one of them is yours? Yes, if one of them is yours then you must be an Ecclesian merchant goodwife who's taken in a dirty horned rat to save her soul. (You will be her intentionally and quietly and as hard as you can, now.)

There's a ship bound for somewhere-anywhere-not-here, one ship whose captain you can trust, and from there she can pawn your jewels until she's wherever she wants to be. Or not — mingle with the pirates, the dead know they don't care about horns or anything.

It's a risk, but the captain of that ship is a ducal family's retainer who used to look at you exactly like you look at her. He helped you once, for no reason but his kirkmouse sense of good, and it is an insane thing to ask in this climate but maybe it isn't, you know? You don't know what else to do. Even you in your townhouse are eating the same soup as your maids now, and everyone knows how expensive tickets out have become.

You can't keep her safe, but he can, and from there...

You had a fiancé once, who gave you his greatest treasure — a key to a house in Astiga, from before the Inquisition took root there. ("Someday we'll go home together.") He might know her by it, he might know she's yours now, he might take her in. Maybe he's gone on homecoming, maybe whoever flies the halfmoon flag over that land has let him be a dreadnought there, maybe he's not going to be there to see — you have no idea. You have no time to send letters and verify, and you're not sure the Postmen's Guild wouldn't open them anyway, whether you're a(n admittedly impoverished) contessa or not.

And then —

"Listen," you say to her, slipping the key to the old house around her neck on a length of twine from your chatelaine. "This is all I can do. Be brave, be cunning, don't listen to any man who promises you riches in the New World." That's an old lure for enslaving prostitutes. A country girl wouldn't know that.

"This key once opened a door to a house I was promised. The man who gave it to me will recognize it. If you ever chance to meet Hasdai Twoflower, show him."

She looks at you silent and wide-eyed as an owl. Behind you the regular watch carries on its business, but you can already see that she'll fight not to startle at the sound of hobnail boots and sabatons for a long time.

"Twoflower," she echoes.

"Yes."

Her eyes crinkle with amusement, despite it all. She doesn't know if she should believe you. Why?

"You know the Great Dreadnought in Ergetz?"

Is that where he is, now? Is that what he became? And you are a kirkgoing merchant's wife in a city that made you mutilate yourself to stay out of its ghetto, in the light, where the people are. You could have undone that, unmade the choice, at any time before you had little horned children, also mutilated, under your hand. You don't even remember how to pray, anymore. How to read. Still...

"I do." She has no recourse but to believe you. "I used to. It's a long story."

Ergetz. Not a true island but a demiplane in the Avid North, called into being by wild shades and the secret lore of your mothers and the mystic arithmetic known to dreadnoughts. They keep trying to find it, trying to invade it, wondering if there's anyplace to put a colony — you were not even sure until now that it really existed.

It may be that he helped it come to exist. It's too late for you now, anyways, but if that's so, then maybe your key is an amulet, and maybe it will see someone to some home somewhere. Not that one, not you. This child. You don't even know her name.

The ship (you don't recall her name either) pulls into port. You make your arrangement; they'll hide her until they go, and she's for Ergetz if they can find it, Vasco and his crew of oars for hire, and if they can't, then they owe it to you to find someplace else. Someplace else that is free, is safe, that will find the girl a husband. What else can you do?

You want to turn and go home, but — "Wait," she says, that little girl in your daughter's veil, in your dead daughter's veil, who died of the ash plague, which your kind are not supposed to get, seven years ago. "How shall I pray for you?"

What a hell of a question. Do you deserve prayer? "My name is Isolda," you begin to say, and she looks at you like a liar, a liar, you know? So you have to admit it. "Isca, Leia's daughter."

"Dolça, Isca's daughter," she says, before she turns to go. You can't tell if this is an endorsement of you or if her mother is your namesake, someone you could have been if you hadn't been what you are. You'll never know. It's time.

"It was good to know you. Next year in the Twilit City."

You never help another one — the soul could not survive it, but also they just do not fall into noblewomen's lives that often.

You never see her again.

This time next year, you are still in this city, not in that one, and your oldest son leaves home to become an Inquisitor. You wave your handkerchief from the balcony, like any good woman would.

All other available moves have been made. There's nothing else you can do.

Not now, not anymore.

"P-please. Don't let them take me…" A witch, a young girl pleaded as she hides in your shed. You see the fear in her eyes as you hear the armored footsteps of the inquisition approached your home. Your heart thumps. They don't take heretics lightly nor one that shields them from their hold.

[chaot1c0]

valentine's day w/ hsr men <3

I have never celebrated valentine's day with anyone so if I seem lost then that's why ..

sunday -

for sure would be a HUGE perfectionist when planning it all

has to make sure every detail is perfect, and if not, he will freak out

asks the astral express members for help but if it's pre-charmony festival, he'll ask robin for help [ I know FOR SURE he'd bother robin with every little detail .. ]

makes sure to get you whatever you like as a gift, and your favorite flowers with roses

settles for chocolate, but not just any chocolate, expensive chocolate that you like

has been planning for weeks or maybe even months ahead [ he just likes to be super accurate .. ]

even subtly gets information out of you for what you'd like

if he notices you staring at something/taking an interest in something, he'll buy that as a gift secretly

would keep his eyes on you the whole day

"..what's with the stares?"

"nothing, just keep looking pretty, angel."

probably takes you sightseeing or out on a walk, then dinner at a restaurant, and ending with a movie

definitely holds your hand and keeps you next to him the whole day and is more affectionate than usual

jing yuan -

despite it seeming that he hasn't planned anything, he actually has some stuff prepared

he'd just prefer to spend the morning in your arms, is all

skips on work just to have you all to himself the whole day

gets you a huge bouquet of roses and obviously chocolates, with jewelry and a teddy bear

takes you out for lunch and then more cuddles later while watching a movie

if you insist or suggest on doing something, though, he will comply

a little more teasing the entire day, more than usual

definitely takes the day as an excuse to be extra clingy and more affectionate

"what? can't I treat my spouse/lover the way they deserve to be treated?"

allows yanqing steal you away from him for a bit if you insist on seeing the boy [ he pouts and sulks because your attention isn't on him anymore ]

ALWAYS has you in his arms at every given opportunity

"I don't want to lose you, love."

obviously a gentleman the entire day [ even more so than usual, actually ]

dan heng -

from the moment he started liking you the astral express knew about his obvious soft spot for you ..

it's STILL obvious TO THIS DAY.

makes sure your gift is suitable to give to you, even goes so far as asking stelle and march 7th for help

it's safe to say they spent a lot of time considering the perfect gift ..

still gets a bit flustered but otherwise confident [ the back of his neck is red when he's affectionate with you ]

buys you whatever you like along with some flowers for your gift

has march 7th, himeko, welt, and stelle suggest ideas on where to take you

..all their ideas clash with each other and so he ultimately decides to ditch it and instead collect information on what you'd like to do

more pda than normal because if that's what makes you happy, he'll gladly do it

very, very, very, very, and I mean VERY polite the entire day

"happy valentine's day."

aventurine -

it's pretty obvious that he'd go all out and spend a lot of money for you [ does that on a daily basis, actually ]

he'd be extra grand when it's valentine's day

expensive chocolates, expensive flowers, expensive gifts, and takes you out to expensive places

has a hugeeeee bouquet of flowers prepared, with a basket full of chocolates and every item your eyes have lingered on for longer than usual the past week

you guys probably won't be back home till late because he's been spoiling you rotten [ when does he not spoil you .. ]

he'll take you shopping and only buy stuff for you and not him, and when you insist that he should buy something he refuses

"just let me buy you whatever you want, okay?"

if anyone dares to give you a bad time on valentine's day, he'll be even more aggressive, but it'd be masked behind that smug facade of his of course

when you guys do come home, he'll be cuddling you the whole night

very affectionate and very flirty the whole day

veritas ratio -

has absolutely zero idea on how to be romantic, so of course he does some research on it

has prepared ahead of time to know how lovers act on valentine's day

takes you out on a date at a fancy restaurant and makes sure you're comfortable with it

is a huge gentleman the whole day

goes old fashioned and gets you a bouquet of flowers and a simple box of chocolates

also makes a statue of you two together and presents it to you proudly

a lot more pda and affectionate since it is valentine's day after all

he has no idea how to be romantic, so if he messes up and embarrasses himself, then that's why

if he does, he will become flustered and his face will be all red

has no problem with just holding you in his arms the entire day instead of going out

I personally feel like he would take you dancing, just for the sake of it

and if you don't know, he'll be more than happy to teach you.

"follow my steps, dear. you'll be fine."

ever since he started dating you, he's been more polite to you, and there's always a softer look in his eyes

there's no difference on valentine's day, either.

he admires you all day with that tenderness in his eyes and instead of insulting you, he compliments you [ his compliments are shown in a rather interesting way, but it's the thought that counts ]

gallagher -

just like jing yuan, he prefers to spend the morning sleeping in with you

also very clingy the entire day

definitely kisses you a lot, too, even if it's for simple things

gets you flowers and anything you'd like

takes you drinking later on in the night to make sure you have fun but doesn't let you get very drunk and looks after you

"how about I make a drink for you, that sound good?"

very loving and affectionate, even more so than usual

always has a hand on your waist or is holding your hand the entire day

sort of like a guard dog, always making sure that no harm comes your way and that you're safe

caelus -

cracks jokes the entire day and tries flirting [ ends up embarrassing himself instead ..]

gets you a stuffed animal and some chocolates and then drags you to the arcade to win you more items

ends up carrying huge plushies for you on the way home

will later take you to see a movie if you're up for it, of course

decorates your shared living space with roses and valentine's day decorations the night before so that when you wake up, you wake up to a surprise

so much pda and kisses, takes this opportunity to be more loving with you

half of the time he's staring at you with a lovesick expression that makes you laugh

when you mention it to him, he gets all flustered

"..what? no- I wasn't staring at you! you're just.. imagining things. yeah."

overall, he's just making sure you enjoy your day and that you're having fun

argenti -

the first thing you see when you wake up is a huge bouquet filled with roses and a note that says, 'happy valentine's day, my rose!'

there's also 5 boxes of chocolates stacked neatly next to it and an adorable stuffed animal holding a heart

he also went through the trouble of decorating your room to fill it with roses

will already be making you breakfast by the time you're up, and it's your favorite food to eat for breakfast

very affectionate and loving, as usual

also compliments you more than he usually does

firmly a gentleman when you two go out for dinner later on in the day and always makes sure you're safe

when you two return home, he lights all the candles he set up earlier and turns off the lights to make everything look lovely

holds you in his arms as he declares his love for you over and over again, making sure you have at least a small grasp of how much he loves you

also combs through your hair gently as he holds you

if you end up falling asleep, he'll carry you back to bed, put out the candles, and fall asleep with you

gepard -

very nervous about the whole day, does not want anything to go wrong

buys you your favorite flowers along with some other gifts

obviously had to ask serval in advance for some advice on what to do

absolutely showers you with affection all day, from the moment you wake up

takes you out on a walk, holding your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours

decides not to go anywhere and just relax indoors with you the entire day since he wants this day to be between only you and him

tries flirting for a change [ serval's idea ], instead flusters himself in return ..

has you laughing at him but at least he can see you happy

tries his very best to make the day a memorable one since he knows how much you mean to him and how much he loves you

blade -

usually not very romantic and doesn't show affection often

however, just for the occasion [ kafka and silver wolf educated him on valentine's day ], he'll make an effort to be affectionate around you

will take you out on a date somewhere but when you ask or tease him about it, he'll stay silent with a slightly noticeable blush

also will get you flowers and try to smile at you

"..these are for you."

when you both are standing somewhere, looking at the nighttime view, he'll turn to stare at you with the faintest smile

if you catch him staring, he'll hurriedly look away before his gaze returns to you, his cheeks pink

buys you all sorts of gifts and what-not

keeps you close to him at all times and is very protective of you

will let you walk on the sidewalk and he'll take the road for you

when you guys get home he'll let you run your fingers through his hair as you talk to him and he'll make an effort to respond

boothill -

jokingly wakes you up with a grin and a rose in his mouth

"g'morning, sugar."

presents you with a bouquet and chocolate with that sharp-toothed grin of his

as usual, his eyes are filled with warmth as he watches you read- or try to read- his hand-written note

presents you with a bunch of jewelry, eagerly watching you for your reaction

"what do you think, sweetheart?"

lets you wear his hat the entire time you guys are out as he holds your hand, fingers intertwined with yours

buys you lots of sweets and if you have one in your hand he might try eating it right from your hand

starts complaining if you let go of his hand even once

takes you out for both lunch AND dinner

if you get tired of walking, he'll pick you up bridle style and carry you all the way home

will spend at least a bit of the day cuddling you

also does tip his hat over your eyes and kisses you

jiaoqiu -

spends the entire morning begging for you to pet his ears and tail before gifting you with a pretty heart-shaped bouquet and a warm smile

makes sassy remarks all day but they're intertwined with affection

instead of taking you out, he'd have you cook with him

if you don't know how, he'll teach you, of course

..you guys end up getting covered in flour, but at least the heart shaped cake tastes good!

would watch movies at home, cuddling under the blankets with a bowl of popcorn between you both

eventually you both end up falling asleep on the couch and even if you wake up later on, none of you make a move to go to your shared bed

mydei -

has an obvious soft spot for you

buys you a bunch of chocolate just for the occasion

when you go out, he'll be holding your hand the entire time and keeping you close

treats you with huge affection, sometimes kissing your cheek at random

if anyone dares try to ruin your special day, he'll silence them with a sharp glare before going back to staring at you all innocent

would definitely take you to a flower field while the sun is setting, just so you two can enjoy the scenery

also settles for a picnic instead of a restaurant and tucks a flower into your hair with a fond smile

will carry you home, even if you insist you're not tired

phainon -

absolute gentleman, writes a whole letter and has white roses for you in a bouquet

takes you out to a fancy restaurant for dinner, also takes you shopping in the evening to buy more gifts for you

has his arm wrapped around your waist so he doesn't lose you in the middle of a crowd or at random

when looking at you, he often smiles fondly to himself

takes a dozen pictures of you and saves them to his folder that he has dedicated to you

can you tell I was struggling ..

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

You Had Me at...

He didn't know why he was even still awake.

No, that was a lie.

He knew exactly why, but he also knew it was stupid and silly and completely outside the realm of possibility. He just hadn't been able to help himself.

He'd stayed up and watched the clock, waited as the minutes ticked by until it was officially Valentine's Day, and held his breath...

And then nothing.

He'd huffed out a laugh, telling himself he was more embarrassed than disappointed because honestly, what had he expected?

Evan to show up at the door to declare his love? To want to get back together?

To want him?

That wasn't Tommy's life. That was fantasy. The stuff of romcoms, not the real world.

Reality was getting into his ratty pajama pants and an ancient, worn-soft LAFD t-shirt (that still had a B and a U and a half-peeled Y on the back) and accepting the fact that he was once again alone for this stupid, fake holiday...that he absolutely loved.

Sighing, he made his way out to the kitchen and dug around in his freezer until he found the pint of cookie dough ice cream that Evan had left there and Tommy had been avoiding for the past three months. What was the point of leaving it? Evan was never coming back. It wasn't like he'd be there to get mad at Tommy for eating it and why let it go to waste?

He stood there, staring at the ice cream.

His therapist would have plenty to say about him struggling to let himself have things, but that was a problem for Tuesday Tommy.

...screw it.

He was eating the ice cream.

Tommy snatched the container out of the freezer and set it down on the counter, ignoring its accusing stare as he grabbed a spoon out of the drawer.

"This is for the best," he muttered. "I'm putting us both out of our misery, okay? We can't wait forever. He's never coming back."

He tapped the spoon against the lid, frowning when a faint knock sounded back.

"What the fu-"

The knock again, louder this time and clearly coming from the front door.

Tommy set the spoon down beside the ice cream, grabbed his phone, and crept down the hallway toward the door. He was still debating calling 911 when he caught sight of a familiar silhouette through the window and his heart stopped.

He'd know those curls anywhere.

Evan startled, hand still raised when Tommy whipped open the door.

"Shit," he said, eyes going wide. "I mean, not sh-not that, I just...I wasn't expecting you to answer so quickly and I'm still kind of working on what I'm going to say..."

"...did you want me to close the door and give you a minute?" Tommy asked after another weighted beat passed between them. He'd stand back in the hallway for as long as it took. As long as Evan needed.

"No!" Evan jolted forward, hand flexing like he was ready to catch it - as if Tommy would willingly close a door between them ever again. "I..."

Tommy waited, drinking in the sight of Evan as he fidgeted on the front porch. He itched to tug the lip free that he was chewing on, but he was equally afraid to touch him.

He didn't think he could bear it if this turned out to be a dream.

"I watched them all," Evan blurted out suddenly. He rubbed at the back of his neck, cheeks going red. "All of the movies I could remember from your shelves. T-the romance ones? And then Maddie recommended some more."

Tommy didn't know what to make of that. "Why-"

"Because everyone said I wasn't allowed to bake anymore," Evan said, as though that was a sentence that would clear things up. "But I had to do something, right? To stop myself from calling you every second that I was awake."

Wait, what?

"And I figured, if I couldn't stop thinking about you, then at least, I could maybe get inside your head and try to understand where we went wrong - where I went wrong," Evan barreled on like he wasn't completely upending Tommy's brain. "I watched them all and in every single one, ever single one, the couple has a fight and b-breaks up because, well, for all kinds of reasons, but it was because they were always missing what was right in front of them."

Evan took a deep, steadying breath, bracing himself on the doorframe. "I said a lot of stuff that night, but I missed saying the most important thing of all. I felt it, felt it so much it felt too big to say, but that was a mistake." He looked up, meeting Tommy's gaze with bright eyes.

"I love you, Tommy. I love you. I'm sorry I did everything backwards and managed to leap ahead all at the same time." Evan shook his head, blinking back tears as Tommy fought to hold back his own.

"I'm sorry I ever made you doubt that what I feel for you is real," he said "The most real and right thing I think I've ever felt in my life and I don't want to lose you. The last few months have been...I felt like I was missing a part of myself. Like my heart has been out there in the world without me and I've hated every minute of it."

"Please," Evan said, searching Tommy's face, hope threaded through every letter. "I know we have a lot we need to talk about, but can we - can we try again?"

Tommy took a shaky breath, still half-convinced he was about to wake up and have all of this ripped away from him.

"Please say something," Evan whispered, his shaky plea finally snapping Tommy into action.

He reached out to cup Evan's cheek, stroking a thumb against his skin as he leaned in. "You had me at 'shit'," Tommy said, a helpless smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

Evan's mouth dropped open as Tommy's words sank in. Relief warred against an extreme pout as he poked at Tommy's chest. "Did you seriously just Jerry Maguire me? I can't even-"

The rest of his protest was cut off when Tommy yanked him inside the house for a searing kiss, kicking the door shut behind them.

"I love you too," Tommy murmured against Evan's lips as he pressed him into the wall. He tried to get the apology he'd been agonizing over for the last three months out between kisses. "I'm sorry I ran. I got scared and stupid and I want this. Want you. Want everything."

Evan groaned, grabbing at him as he gave back as good as he got, kissing every part of Tommy he could reach without letting him move an inch out of his arms.

"Stay," Tommy gasped when they finally broke apart for air. "Please stay and just sleep beside me and we can talk properly in the morning?" He wasn't prepared to let Evan out of his sight any time soon.

"Try and get rid of me," Evan said with a little laugh as he rested his forehead against Tommy's. They kissed once more, softly, knowing they had time now. Letting out a happy sigh, Evan dropped a tiny peck on the end of Tommy's nose before releasing him and moving toward the kitchen.

Tommy went to lock the door, freezing when Evan let out a garbled noise of outrage.

"Is this my ice cream?"

Biting back a grin, Tommy headed toward Evan and his continuing grumbles...

And let his grin actually spread when he rounded the corner to find Evan standing there, holding out a second spoon.

[worthyprnce]

✶— merlin · [falco columbarius]:

a small species of falcon

✶— gawain · [celtic]

name with celtic origin, meaning battle hawk, white falcon, little falcon or white hawk

✶— falcon

in medieval times, falcons symbolized power, status, nobility, love, daring and mystery. in late medieval courtly literature, falcons were associated with daring, mysterious and catastrophic love.

✶—tulip [tulipa]

"I declare my love for you"

✶— honeysuckle [lonicera]

devotion, affection

✶— cornflower [centaurea cyanus]

"hope in love"

✶— ivy [hedera]

fidelity, attachment

[I don't know exactly what I wanted with this. I did this mostly for myself, just because I couldn't stop thinking about this little parallel between merlin's and gwaine's names. I made gwaine's falcon with white and lighter colours because I wanted to represent the other meaning of his name, white falcon, but I made sure to let the top of his head gray/blueish because that's what a male merlin falcon looks like. also, gwaine's not albino, at least it wasn't my intention, but it's okay if you want to interpret it that way. I noticed I used colours that would make him look like he's albino only when I finished this lol but all I wanted to do was differentiate the two falcons and make that reference to gawain's name meaning.

anyway this took me a good amount of 19 hours and it crashed my app and phone. I lost my original canva but thankfully I had saved the art in my phone in time. it was a fun experience, I've never drawn feathers like this, so it was a bit challenging but I like the results :]

[littleestkirby]

I don't know if you want this perspective, so I'll put it below a cut, but here's what I can say as a practicing christian who also gets fed up with the church sometimes.

1. I think you may have been mistaught that story; Jesus never refused to heal someone. It could either be (a) the story where he doesn't travel to heal a believer's daughter becaus he heals her from that distance. (Basically, the girl's father said "I know you can heal her from here" and Jesus was impressed by his faith and said "ok I will") or (b) the story where he stops to heal someone else on the way (a bleeding woman who had been cast out from her community) and the girl dies before he gets there. He then raises her from the dead

2. The goal of Christianity is to know God. As someone smarter than me (CS Lewis, maybe?) once put it, "we don't love God because we want to go to heaven, we want to go to heaven because we love God." Basically, heaven isn't a magic rainbow land where everything YOU want comes true, it's a perfect union with god. Following Jesus (in the christian belief, anyway) is the closest you can get to heaven on earth. So, OF COURSE Jesus cares about "good christians" (though the bible says no one person alone is truly good; most who would refer to themselves as "good christians" are... misguided to say the least) Because christianity isn't a pass/fail class where if you feed enough homeless people and don't have sex before marriage, you get to go to rainbowland; it's a personal relationship with your Father/Savior/Creator. That relationship (I believe) DOES make your life better, but not in a "you'll drive a nice car and never get sick" kind of way, but a "you'll be at peace with yourself and those around you" kind of way.

3. Jesus doesn't go out of his way to meet with sinners because they're the ones whose souls are in danger, he goes out of his way to meet with sinners because they actually have the humility to listen. THEY actually WANT to know him and have been kept out of the synagogues. There are no good, already-going-to-heaven people in the bible. The Pharisees (self-appointed and societally recognized "good religious people" in the gospels) are NOT fans of Jesus and they are NOT obeying God; the reason he doesn't seek them out is because they wouldn't have listened. They BELIEVED they were already right about everything, so they were just threatened by his influence instead. They were too busy LOOKING righteous and trying to trap him in doctrine to try to know him or God.

4. Obviously, you don't have to listen to any of this. Of course I can't explain why suffering happens, or why it affects who it does. That's one of like, the main things that the collective efforts of christians through history can't explain. I'm not expecting this to convert you, but just wanted to help you understand why so many people still believe all this despite, yknow. All the suffering and stuff

One of the biggest eye-openers for me back when a I went to church was that like…

Oh man how do I explain it.

There’s this prevalent idea I see a lot in Christian circles that if you pray right, if you follow God correctly, if you’re a truly virtuous person, your problems will be solved, right?

If you suffer, if you fall ill, if bad things happen, it’s because you aren’t good enough. You don’t need medicine because if you’re worthy, if you’re faithful enough, God will reward you by healing you. Right?

But like. Discussing this with my mother, and travelling out east with our pastor… Jesus didn’t spend all his time with perfect, virtuous people. Jesus didn’t seek out and heal well-to-do, faithful, perfect Christians. In fact, there’s a specific story in which he straight up doesn’t travel out to heal a believer’s dying daughter, because she’s already “saved”. Her earthy death is okay because she’s going to heaven already.

And like… coming from our Pastor, who is one of the best guys I’ve ever met- there seems to be an ongoing, underlying message of, “Jesus doesn’t care about you if you’re a good Christian”. If you’re a good Christian, if you’re living a virtuous life on earth, then any suffering you experience is only temporary- your ETERNITY is secure. Jesus goes out of his way to meet with sinners and the unfaithful because those are the people whose souls are in danger.

So like. In that perspective, being good doesn’t make your life better, it’s just good for others and good for your soul. Praying and doing good probably won’t cure your cancer, but it may mean you don’t have to worry too much about your death.

And like. I dunno. I wouldn’t call myself a Christian, but I find myself thinking about that concept a lot

Does suffering mean you deserve a reward?

Is suffering proof that you’re unworthy?

Or is suffering just an unfortunate facet of life that doesn’t reflect on your worth, that you still have to deal with as best you can?

Maybe suffering is just suffering.

Maybe the bad things you experienced weren’t about you

And maybe you just gotta try your best and be kind anyways, so you can rest easy when you go