#yeah its a stuff pack but its still. side eyes

[amatres]

weird that they released the complete sims 2 for free a few years back, took it down, and now are rereleasing it for money and it doesn't even have every pack in it anymore

[backinmyphase]

Being in the same Theater club as Gojo Satoru had its up and downs.

On the one hand you could see him every day - he was tall, had these beautiful eyes and his white hair was always in the right places. He was unbelievable dreamy, or maybe you were just a bit dramatic. But you were in the Drama Club, so who cares?

Yeah, it was obvious. You had a high school crush.

Normally you would celebrate because of the slight chance to even glance at him. But not here, not in the Drama Club. You had always dreamed of playing in the theater, had always wanted to be part of a play. An important part. Like Juliet.

Because on the other hand with Satoru here there was a problem. He had raised his hand to be Romeo.

And you knew you would screw up. Playing as Juliet with Satoru as your Romeo? God, as if that could work. You were a stuttering mess as you auditioned, wanting to die inside because of the way he looked at you. So intense. And then he was so close, whispering into your ear.

"It's alright. You're doing great."

Which only made you mess up more.

It was humiliating. Being told to get off the stage and that even in front of Satoru Gojo. Yeah, your Theater Club dream was going down the drain. Because of course you would be only Extra #3 in the play.

You knew with Satoru here you just couldn't act like you wanted. And that was really bad for this club. Naturally Satoru would be every main character in the future, he was Satoru. You had to work with what was given you.

Even if it was Extra #3.

So after the auditions were finished and the real Juliet was found, you just packed your things. Today wasn't your practice, since... Well, they were just getting into their roles.

Standing up and going to the door, you really didn't expect someone to call after you. Especially not him.

"Hey! Wait for a second!"

Satoru Gojo was running up to you as you held the door in your hand. Satoru. Gojo.

"What is it?" you were a bit too quiet as you liked, but at least you weren't stuttering anymore. Satoru stopped in front of you, breathing a bit heavier but still composed. He smiled and god it was so pretty. It was just so gorgeous how his eyes sparkled and... Thank god you didn't have to be Juliet!

"Where are you going? We are starting to practice our lines!" he tilted his head and a small - nervous? - laugh escaped him.

"Oh, I..." you cleared your throat. Wait, didn't you do that already? Or not?

"I have no lines, Gojo."

He looked at you so confused it was somehow endearing. He blinked a couple of times, his smile becoming a bit more smaller. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just an Extra."

He blinked again, now a big frown overtaking his features. And as he spoke again his voice was even a bit upset. "Really? But you were so good! No, that can't be right, should I talk to the teacher?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his words. "You don't need to lie and do that I was really not that good. You know, stuttering and stuff."

He didn't laugh with you, but his mood seemed to light up a bit. His smile returning a bit smaller. "Doesn't everyone stutter from time to time?"

"Maybe. But someone shouldn't stutter while performing." you shook your head. "And you don't stutter."

He stays silent for a while and somehow it comes to a seemingly infinite minute where the two of you just look at each other. Into his blue eyes. His beautiful eyes.

"You know, I was wondering..." he was whispering again and suddenly he was just a breath away from you, just like back on the stage. "If you could maybe help me practice from time to time?"

You blinked at him. He looked down. "Because with you it seemed easier to be Romeo-"

"SATORU GOJO!!!"

You looked behind him, to see the annoyed face of your teacher. "Come to the practice. Immediately!"

He groaned, a small pout on his face. He put his hands into his pockets, while a sigh escaped him. You couldn't help but chuckle, he looked adorable.

"Well, I gotta go." he mumbled, but didn't make a move to turn around. Just a slight step to the side, a half hearted turn.

"Okay, good luck." you opened the door, a cheeky smile making it's way onto your face. "And of course I'll help you, Romeo."

Part 1

WIP Announcement

[glamourscat]

ㅤ✮ Jason Todd (n)sfw headcanons ㅤ✮

SFW

24/25 years old, 6ft3, Latino (from his father's side), half Italian from his mother. Tallest and heaviest of all the kids with a muscle mass higher than Bruce’s. Tan skin colour, faint old scars —especially near his hands/back/chest. Green blue eyes, black curly hair with the white stripe at the front from the pit. I personally hc that he still has the Y autopsy scar. He has tattoos, a chest one at that, and one on his thigh particularly, that covers some of the biggest scars he has. Probably the most “hairy”— his hair grows fast. Long eyelashes, faint beard that doesn’t get too long. Chest/leg hair. HAPPY TRAIL

He uses the all blades

I see him as someone who after all of the shit he faced, he finally went to therapy and is maybe one of the first of the family who took the step to do so.

On the asexual scale and unlabelled? Vibes of “I like who I like despite of the gender but bc of their mind”.

brave, impulsive, loud-mouthed, and street-smart and emotionally smart. He can read your body language to filth. Kind of a loner. Prefers to stay in, enjoy life for its quietness after everything. He likes to keep things in order. His apartment is modest, despite having enough money he chooses to decorate it with second hand stuff. Hard to open up but once you gain his trust you have a loyal friend by your side. Someone that will literally come and see you at 3am if you need

Rocky relationship with the batfamily. Doesn’t attend galas, barely shows up at the manor but will make his appearance for family holidays. He still sees them as family, and families are complicated

A reader and lives mostly in his books thus in his head.

Theatre kid—but the one who loved watching it, never had the chance to take part in it. Lover of metal and rock music. A good chef, the best out of the guys. He was the academically inclined kid, not Tim. Jason LOVED school, to the point of skipping patrol to study because that’s who he is.

The first to retire from being a vigilante. And you bet your ass once married this man will pack you and him up and leave Gotham City with flash’s speed lmao. The most likely to live a peaceful, low life somewhere in a rural area, in a cottage with his spouse, 2 cats and 2 baby girls

Most likely to date a civilian

This man, WILL be a husband and a father one day. He just has this hidden nurturing side that not many get to see but it’s there. Biological or adoptive, stay safe, he will create his own kids army. Also dad girl all the way. 

NSFW

I see him as asexual, like I have said. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have nor craves sex, being asexual is a spectrum. For me jason is demisexual, someone who craves a sexual connection only after having established a deep intellectual and emotional connection with the other person. 

With that said, I cannot see him as some brute who will toss you around and have his way. I mean, objectively speaking, he has some traumas relevant to being emotional/intimate and sex is such an intimate act. It’s scary. As the relationship progresses, i can see him being more comfortable in initiating, trying new things, being more spontaneous and maybe a bit more rough. But gun, knife kink? The same guy who uses those everynight to hurt criminals, using the same objects on you? yeah, no. not to mention being restrained, after the trauma he faced with his death. 

So, sex with him it’s extremely intimate. He is trusting you to see a part of him he never shows to anyone else. He is most likely a virgin when you two meet, with only going as far with foreplay w past partners

Likes to be on top, but i wouldn’t say he is a dom. Switch leaning

Breeding kink… yeah, i said it lol. He does that thing of thrusting and just before finishing he pulls almost all out, leaving just the very beginning of the tip. As he starts to come he will thrust in one last time

Initially not a very big talker, but as time goes by and he becomes more comfortable, he would be more comfortable in showing his moans and grunts. Though, he definetly swears

Praises are more reserved for aftercare, soft, gentle words whispered in your skin as you two cuddle

Definitely a fan of cowgirl. I see him as a boob and thighs guy. So, fav position to hold for sure. 

He might not use many words, but his actions speak for himself. From the gentle kisses that linger on your lips and skin, to the eye contact, to the caresses… 

This man will eat you out like a starved man. Nothing else to add

His fav nights are when you two have a full on romantic night, although you dont explicitly say so. You two are more softer with each other, thrusts are less frantic and more deep than usual, making you feel every inch and vein of his. He is quietly moaning in your neck, as your legs are wrapped around his lower back, holding him so close to you that there’s basically no space left in between

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[asahicore]

all i see is gold - pjs (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. jay x fem!reader

synopsis. Pretending to be your number one's rival girlfriend to please his parents isn't how you would usually spend a Thursday night, but you really owe Jay a big one this time. You'd sworn this was just a one-time thing - and yet when his parents ask you to come again, the word 'yes' is out before you can stop it. Before you know it and much to your dismay, your feelings for Jay start to change, and you're in too deep to backtrack.

genre. college au, academic rivals to lovers, fake dating au, rich rich millionaire ceo's son jay x poor ass scholarship part-time job reader

warnings. heeseung is a mega asshole sorry to this man, slight violence like the girls are fighting, these two are pathetically in love w each other it's laughable actually, rich people being annoying slightly and also y/n's friends having way too much knowledge about fanfiction tropes... i like my fourth walls broken

word count. 27.1k

a/n. hi sisters user asahicore is back with another repost because she can't be asked to come up with anything original... sorry! i did add a new scene to this fic for.. character development. hope you guys enjoy it, as always let me know your thoughts otherwise i will find you and hold you at gunpoint, have fun love you stay healthy keep slaying bye bye!

“Actually, I think what you just said is complete bull.”

Jay rolled his eyes for the thousandth time in an hour and a few sniggers were heard around the room.

Your tutor sighed and, in an exhausted tone, asked you to “keep it polite, please. This is still a classroom setting.”

“Right, sorry.” You cleared your throat and sat up straighter. “I completely disagree with your statement, Jongseong. Just because a movie has young teenage girls as its target audience doesn’t mean it is completely insipid and has no value, like you’re insinuating. If you look at Mean Girls, for example-”

Jay scoffed. “Oh please, you’re not actually going to use Mean Gir-”

“Ah, would you look at the time? Class is over,” your tutor interrupted. “You can all go home and ponder the riveting discussion Jay and Y/N led today.” 

You were pretty sure you heard a general sigh of relief from your classmates. After all, you couldn’t really blame them: it was only the first tutorial of the semester for that course and Jay and you were already at each other’s throats, having something to say about every idea the other put forward, no matter how small.

“Oh, and Jay, I do have to side with Y/N here. There’s a surprising amount of things that can be said about that film,” your tutor admitted with an apologetic smile. You, however, were harboring a triumphant expression. Nothing better than having the tutor agree with you against Jay. 

As you packed your stuff away, mentally patting yourself on the back, Jay approached you, looking visibly annoyed. “Seriously, Y/N? Symbolism in Modern Cinema? Since where do you even care about movies?”

You gasped dramatically and put your hand over your heart, feigning shock. “Why, I’m offended that you think you’re the only one who’s allowed to love cinema, Jongseong.”

“Yeah, it’s my thing!” he whined like a child, and you gave him a look that hopefully made him reflect on what he’d just said.

You started walking out of the room and he followed, a step behind you. “I mean, there’s no way you didn’t know I was taking this class. Are you like, obsessed with me or something?”

“Yes, Jongseong, that’s exactly the case. I’m sooooo obsessed with you, I took this class just to see you.”

You were obviously joking, but he looked at you with a smirk and said, “I wouldn’t put it past you. I wouldn’t put it past anyone, to be honest; I mean I am the most good-looking, smartest, richest guy on camp- Ouch! That hurts!”

You had just punched him in the shoulder, not wanting to listen to his self-indulgent ramblings. “Get your head out of your ass, Park. I just thought it would be an interesting class. Why are you even taking it, anyway? I don’t think a cinema course is gonna teach you much on how to run daddy’s company,” you asked him, a smirk teasing your lips.

He rolled his eyes (you thought they might stay stuck at the back of his head, with how often he did that) and took a tone one might use to speak to a child. “You see, Y/N, I also major in Visual Studies. I’m not a single honors Econ major like you. Loser.”

He’d added the last word with a playful smile on his face, purposefully trying to rile you up. You were about to reply with an equally petty remark when you heard your name being called out. 

“Y/N! Wait up!”

You could recognize that voice anywhere. Your heart started beating a thousand times a minute and you felt your hands get clammy. As you turned around, you forced a relaxed smile and told yourself to stay calm, but as soon as you made eye contact with the boy, all rational thought left your brain.

“H-hi, Heeseung.” You heard Jay snort behind you but were too entranced by Heeseung’s presence to tell him off.

Clearly enjoying your nervousness, Heeseung smiled at you and bent down so that he came directly face to face with you. “It was nice seeing you last Friday. You should come to our parties more often, not many people can set fire to the dance floor like you did.”

Your cheeks had already turned bright red when he’d called your name, but now you probably looked as crimson as a fire extinguisher. Over the weekend, you’d tried so hard to forget about that party where you had gotten black-out drunk and made a fool of yourself on the dance floor. Sure, you’d had a lot of fun, but when you remembered that Heeseung literally lived in the frat house that had hosted the pre-start of term gathering, you’d felt so embarrassed and wanted to never have to face him ever again. Yet here he was, and he had obviously seen you.

“O-oh, right, haha. Um, I was pretty drunk, but, yeah, um, it was f-fun.” You cringed at yourself. Where was the Y/N that had torn down Jay’s every argument just moments prior? You were usually self-assured and confident, but whenever you were around Heeseung, you didn’t know how to act.

Heeseung stood up straighter and patted your head. You thanked yourself for having washed your hair that morning. He chuckled and said, “That’s good to hear. Guess I’ll see you around, then?”

“Yeah!” you replied with a tad too much enthusiasm. 

“Great.” As he walked past you, you didn’t need to turn around to see the nasty looks exchanged between Heeseung and Jay. 

“Jongseong.”

“Heeseung.”

The venom with which they had spat the other’s name would’ve sent a chill down your spine any other time, but right now, you were too busy mooning over what had just happened. Like many girls on campus, you’d had a crush on him since freshman year; but unlike most, you’d never actually tried to do anything about it. Realistically, you could probably bag him - Heeseung could be seen with a different girl at every party and didn’t seem to be too picky about who he finished the night with. But you also couldn’t stand the idea of being just another drunk fuck to him. So, you’d never revealed your feelings to him, although he could most definitely see the effect he had on you.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Jay burst into laughter. You turned around and looked at him, arms crossed, waiting for him to be done with an impatient look on your face. When he finally caught his breath, he had tears pooling at his eyes and was holding onto his belly.

“H-hi, Heeseung,” he breathed, trying to imitate you by making his voice higher in pitch but laughing too hard for it to come out properly.

“There’s nothing funny about this, Jongseong.”

“Oh, but there is, Y/N. And you know what the worst part is? You could do so, so much better than that guy. I mean, he’s a Business major, for fuck’s sake.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” you asked hotly, starting to get defensive.

“You’re studying Econ, Y/N. Dating a Business major, that’s like, the highest betrayal possible.”

You rolled your eyes at his stupid values and started walking towards the exit of the building, bumping into his shoulder on the way. He started following you again and added, “It’s not even just about that, Y/N. You know his reputation, he’s clearly bad news. There’s no point in liking a guy like that.”

Because you knew how much he hated it, you always made sure to call him Jongseong instead of Jay. But right now, you didn’t feel like joking around. You turned around abruptly, Jay almost bumping into you, and looked at him pointedly. “Look, Jay, I know you and Heeseung have this weird competition between the two of you of whose dad can make more money. But that doesn’t give you the right to tell me I shouldn’t like him.” And with a mumble, you added, “I can’t help liking him, okay?”

You went on your way again and Jay caught up with you so that the two of you were now walking side by side. Sighing, he said, “Whatever. When he inevitably hurts you, though, I’ll say I told you so.”

—

After flipping off Jay as your way of saying goodbye, you joined your friends in the cafeteria. You told them about your encounter with Heeseung, and as much as they wanted to support you, they couldn’t help but think your behavior at the party on Friday was hilarious. 

“I wasn’t gonna show this to anyone, but I can’t hold it in anymore…” Sunoo said, pulling out his phone.

It wasn’t hard to guess what he might be hiding in there, so you quickly protested, “It’s been three days, Sunoo. I’m sure you can hold in whatever it is longer than that.”

He looked at you with a sheepish smile and said, as if he didn’t have a choice but to show everyone, “It’s so funny though.”

Sieun and Keeho were urging him to show them, so you just hung your head as Sunoo pressed play. You didn’t even need to look at the video to know what it was: even in his drunken state, Sunoo had had the foresight to film you as you danced like there was no tomorrow, knowing this was a special occasion. Your friends tried to reassure you that you didn’t look that bad and you just seemed to be having fun, but the sniggers they tried to hold back in vain told you otherwise.

Keeho seemed to take pity on you when seeing your defeated expression. “Y/N, I promise you it’s not that bad. You were very obviously drunk, and so was everyone else. If anybody remembers this, they’re probably thinking that you were fucking awesome. Can’t you see how everyone is cheering you on in the video?”

With an exasperated sigh, you replied, “I don’t care that everybody saw me. I care that Heeseung did. I only started drinking that much because I thought it’d help me relax and talk to him. I didn’t think I’d go wild on the dance floor.”

Your friends exchanged a look and immediately burst into laughter. You wanted to get mad at them, but even you had to admit the whole situation was pretty funny. You let them make as much fun of you as their hearts desired, then, to change the subject, told them about the tutorial you had in the morning with Jay and how much fun it had been arguing with him.

Sieun was looking at you thoughtfully, until she said, “You know, I think it’s…” she paused for a second, trying to find the right word, “interesting, how much effort you put into getting into the same class as Jay when you could’ve directed that energy towards getting into one of Heeseung’s class.”

The sudden statement took you aback. “Well, I wouldn’t say I put that much effort into it…” you stammered in an attempt to defend yourself.

“Y/N,” Keeho started, an accusatory tone to his words, “you literally asked Jake to tell you what courses he was taking this semester and when his tutorials were, and when you somehow managed to be enrolled in a class that’s supposed to be reserved for Visual Studies students, you emailed the tutor to make sure you’d be in the same group as Jay. I’d say that requires some effort.”

You huffed, mildly offended. “I- Well- I just thought it’d be fun to argue with him about something else than economics, you know. There’s only so much to say about that.” Your friends didn’t look very convinced. “Plus, there are no classes that Heeseung’s taking that seemed interesting, and even if they were and I managed to get into them, I just would’ve stuttered trying to answer easy questions. At least if I’m in a class with Jay, I know it’ll be fun.”

After that last sentence, Sieun looked at you like you had proven her point. What a smartass, you thought. What was she even trying to prove? 

“Is no one gonna say it?” Sunoo asked, bewildered, looking around at your friends. “It sounds like you like him, Y/N.”

Oh.

Your automatic response was to go, “Pfffft,” but when Sieun and Keeho didn’t disagree with Sunoo, you looked at them, wide-eyed. “Are you guys serious? I don’t like Park Jongseong, that’s ridiculous.”

Sure, you liked arguing with Jay, that wasn’t a secret. That didn’t mean you liked him, or anything like that. Just the thought made you shiver. Dating Jay had never even occurred to you; as soon as you’d met, you had taken on a rival-like relationship, arguing about everything and anything. Sure, he was smart, and not too bad-looking, and he was really rich, and when he wanted he could actually be quite nice - but that was not the point! Most of the time, he was just annoying and argued with you for no reason other than to rile you up, and had the most unreasonable opinions you’d ever heard. He took his wealth for granted and sometimes came across as so privileged it made you want to puke.

Sieun took your hands in hers and tried to convince you with her eyes, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. “But think about it, Y/N. It’s the enemies to lovers trope!”

You snatched your hands out from her grip and gave her a pointed look. “This isn’t Wattpad, Sieun, this is real life. And Jay and I aren’t enemies, we’re merely rivals.”

“Even better!” she exclaimed.

“I completely agree with Sieun,” Sunoo said. “Y/N, you’re such a rivals to lovers type of gal.” You rolled your eyes, but Keeho was fervently nodding his head in agreement.

“By the way, did you guys hear about his parents’ company throwing a fundraiser?” Keeho said. This piqued your interest, but after your friends’ accusations, you couldn’t look too excited about anything Jay-related, so you nonchalantly asked him to go on. “It’s for some charity, they’ve invited all the big names, and apparently it’s gonna be huge so they need some people to waiter. I’m thinking of applying. It pays really well and it’s gonna be so fancy. It’s not like I’ve got much else to do that night anyway.”

“When is it?” you asked, still trying not to sound too interested.

“Friday in two weeks.”

“Well, if it’s a Friday, I’ll be getting wasted, so count me out,” Sunoo replied.

“I’d come, but the idea of serving rich people as they give out ten thousand dollars when they could give a million and it wouldn’t even affect them in the slightest, not to mention having to do it with a smile on my face, makes my skin crawl, so no thanks,” Sieun said. She wasn’t wrong, but this was also Jay’s parents you were talking about. Not only would Jay be there, and your presence would surely piss him off, but his dad’s company was one of the top of the country and being introduced to their world, maybe even getting to know some people there, even just as a waitress, could really benefit you in the long-term. You’d never admit it to him, but you’d been dreaming of working there ever since you’d first heard of it. Nothing might come out of this, but it was worth trying.

“What about you, Y/N? You in?”

You looked at Keeho and said, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

—

The next time you saw Jay was for your Economics of Cities and Regions lecture a couple days later. As appropriate of the top students, you two always sat at the very front row along with only a few other brave students. Keeho was always bugging you to sit with him at the back, but you liked being able to look the professor in the eye so they could see how much attention you were paying to them. You listened carefully to the whole lecture, and when it ended, you turned to Jay and called his name in a sickly sweet voice, smiling as warmly as you could. He turned to you with a horrified look on his face.

“Please never do that again.”

Your smile instantly dropped. You should’ve known there was no point trying to be nice to him. “So, I’ve heard about your dad’s firm’s fundraiser…”

Before you could even finish your sentence, he interrupted you. “No. No way. You’re not working there. Nope. Not happening.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because this is an important night for me to make myself known as the CEO in line and I can’t have you distracting me.”

You didn’t question why he considered you a distraction and just pressed further. “C’mon! I promise I won’t be in your way.” He looked at you as if to say I don’t believe you. “I need the money.”

“Then get a part-time job.”

“I already have one! And it doesn’t pay very well.”

He looked at you and crossed his arms over his chest. No, you didn’t notice how his shirt tightened around his biceps. Shut up. Exasperated, he asked, “Do you even know what this fundraiser is for?”

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Why did you need to know what it was for? All you needed was to work there and make some money. You just shrugged “No.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “You’re unbelievable. It’s to help students in need of scholarships. You know how my parents sometimes pay for students’ tuition fees? Well,” he sighed, and started to pack up his stuff. “This is to encourage CEOs of other companies to do the same. They’ve invited a few students to talk about why scholarships are important for them.”

Interesting, you thought. It’d have been nice to be one of those students, but being a waitress was already good enough. You’d have to be quicker to get the role next time. “I’ll be part of the waitering team, so I won’t embarrass you, don’t worry.”

After a beat, Jay asked, “Why are you even telling me this? I can say no all I want, I’m not the one deciding on the staff. I’d just really, really appreciate it if you didn’t come.”

You eyed him for a second until realization hit you. Right. It wasn’t like Jay had any say in this, so why were you trying to get him to agree? It had just seemed natural to you that you’d talk to him about this.

You shook your head and said, “Well, I’m gonna go anyway. I just thought I should let you know. That way you know you’re gonna need to bring your best game to impress me.”

You noticed Keeho waving his arm impatiently at you, waiting for you to leave the lecture theater. Jay watched you walk away, and he couldn’t stop the smile spreading on his face. 

—

“So… Y/N will probably be working at the fundraiser,” Jay said, looking down at his notes. As on most days, Jake and Sunghoon were over at his place, half-studying, half-messing around.

The two boys in front of him groaned in unison. He raised his head and added defensively, “What? I’ve barely said anything yet.”

“Yeah, but you’re talking about Y/N. Again,” Jake said, as if stating the obvious.

“You know, I’m actually surprised he’s managed to not mention her for that long. It’s been what, fifteen minutes since we got here?” Sunghoon half-joked.

Used to his friends’ teasing, Jay ignored them and continued. “On any other occasion, I’d be more than happy to have her around” - cue another groan from Jake and Sunghoon - “but I really have to impress my parents and all the guests that evening. If I don’t, I’m gonna have to work twice as hard.”

Indulging his friend’s rant, Jake asked, “What’s wrong with her being there? She’s not gonna go around and tell everyone you’re a little shit as she hands them champagne glasses.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “No, of course not, but I’m gonna be hyper-aware of her presence and I don’t want it to distract me.” A third groan. “Plus, I don’t like the idea of her being there as a waitress. She should be with the students who talk to the guests, she deserves it more than anybody I know.”

After a beat, Sunghoon, with gracious subtlety and tact as always, added, “You know, if you had just manned up and asked her out in freshman year when you still had the chance, maybe you could’ve taken her to the fundraiser as your girlfriend and not have her go there as a waitress. Just saying.”

“It’s 2022, Sunghoon, nobody says things like ‘man up’ anymore.”

“You dumbass, is that all you’re hearing from what I just said-”

“What I think Sunghoon is trying to say,” Jake cut in, “is that this could have been avoided had you had the guts to tell her how you feel. But rest assured, my friend, it can still happen. No such thing as too late.”

“You always say that, but how the fuck am I supposed to ask her out when she’s only ever seen me as her rival? Plus, she’s head over heels for that prick.”

Sensing that Sunghoon was getting ready to deliver another one of his punchlines, Jake quickly replied. “Who cares about Heeseung? It wouldn’t be hard to make her see what an asshole he is. And once that’s done, you can just give her the Park charm,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Sunghoon fake gagged at the thought of his friend trying to flirt, and even Jay had to admit he hated how Jake had formulated his sentence. “That’s all I do though. As soon as we met, we got into arguing, and that’s just how we communicate now. She wants competition, so I give her competition. I don’t know what else to do.”

His friends sighed, unsure what to tell him after having had the same conversation hundreds of times. “Did you ask her why she took that cinema course? I thought it was weird she asked me for all that info. She wanted me to keep hush-hush about it, too,” Jake asked.

Jay thought for a second, then answered, “I did ask her if she was obsessed with me.” A fourth, deserved, groan. “She just said she thought the class seemed interesting. She didn’t even know I was a double major, by the way.”

Jake and Sunghoon chuckled, both thinking but not daring to say that, indeed, no one knew Jay also majored in Visual Studies. The three boys continued chatting for a while until they fell into silence and finally started getting some work done.

Jay managed to get you out of his head for a couple hours, but when his friends left and he was alone, his thoughts immediately drifted back to you. When the two of you first met in freshman year, you had become instant rivals, both top of your class, and always disagreeing on everything. He hadn’t minded the dynamic at first: he thought your ideas and the conversations that stemmed from them were always interesting, and he had a lot of respect for you. He wanted to know why you thought that way or what made you say certain things, and soon enough he wanted to know everything about you. He’d noticed things like how you chewed on your pen when you were in deep reflection, or how you’d look intently at anyone who was talking, as if you were making mental bullet points of their arguments only to break them down afterwards. When he finally realized his feelings for you (not without help from Jake and Sunghoon, who thought he couldn’t get any more obvious), he felt like your rivalry-almost-turned-friendship had gone too far, and you’d think he was stupid for liking you. It didn’t help that your confident attitude always broke down in front of his arch nemesis Lee Heeseung, making it painfully clear that you had a crush on him.

That night, he kept tossing and turning in his bed, trying to fall asleep. He hated the idea of you having to be there as a waitress, handing out drinks and mini toasts to entitled guests who probably wouldn’t even look at you. There had to be a few strings he could pull, right?

—

In all twenty years of your life, you had never been to a place like this. As soon as you’d entered the lobby of the building in which the fundraiser took place, you’d been overwhelmed by the sheer extravagance of the room. Every surface was shiny marble, the ceilings were at least fifteen meters high and the whole place was lit up by tiny wall lamps. You were almost scared to see what the actual ballroom would look like.

The fundraiser started at 8:00 p.m. but the staff had been advised to come earlier to prepare everything. You went further in, and now that you had somehow acclimated to your surroundings, you noticed how busy everyone was. People were running around, going from the kitchen to the back room to the main hall in quick strides. You tried getting one woman’s attention, hoping she could direct you to where you were supposed to go.

“Sorry, hi, where do the wai-”

She stopped dead in her tracks and barely looked at you as she whipped out a sheet of paper from her blouse pocket and asked for your name.

“Um, Y/N-”

She checked something off and looked up at you and smiled. “Great, follow me.” You had no time to ask anything else before she swiveled on her heels again and marched towards another room, you in tow behind her. “We’ve got a script ready for you. You just need to learn it in time for tonight and then use your charm on the guests. Oh, and don’t worry about your outfit and all that, we’ve got it covered. Good luck!” And with that, she was off. 

Script? Outfit? What was all this about? You panic-texted Keeho, telling him some lady had dragged you somewhere and told you to learn a whole script. When he didn’t answer after five minutes, you assumed he must be busy helping out, but it made you panic even more. You looked around the room and noticed a girl you thought you recognized from one of your classes. You walked up to her, and after saying hi, asked her what the hell was going on here.

She looked at you a bit oddly, as if it didn’t make sense you didn’t know where you were, but clarified things nonetheless. “Basically, the six of us are going to be wearing these tags so that the guests know who we are, and we’re gonna give them a pity story about how we’re so poor but also so smart and able to change the world if only they give us money. That’s what the script is for, it just makes it a bit nicer.” Right, that’s what Jay had told you. But why were you here when you had signed up to be a waitress? It was what you had wished for, but it made no sense whatsoever.

Registering your still confused expression, the girl went on, “They’re also gonna give us nice outfits and make us look more presentable. But not too much, you know, cause a thousand dollar gown wouldn’t really fit with the scholarship kid aesthetic.” You laughed with her. You had to admit the whole situation was a bit ridiculous, but if it could help you out, you would take it. You had needed to take out a loan when you started studying, and the enormous debt you would be in as soon as you stepped out of college already stressed you out.

You learned your script, which was actually just more like detailed examples of the things you should say and what direction your conversations with the guests should take, until somebody called out your name, telling you it was time to get you ready. You were led to another room which was full of clothing racks holding fancy dresses and suits. Your immediate thought was that the clothes in this one room were probably worth more than your entire house. 

You could only admire the room for a few moments before a stylist threw a dress in your arms and practically pushed you into a dressing room. You took a good look at black dress before putting it on. It wasn’t overly fancy; the girl you had talked to was right, it wouldn’t make sense for you to look like you were the richest person there. With its modest cleavage and mid-thigh length, it was what you assumed to be formal enough for this type of event, and surprisingly fit you like a glove. It made you look put-together and accentuated your features in the subtlest way. 

When you walked out of the dressing room, the stylist eyed you up and down, adjusting the dress here and there, then stepped back and mumbled absent-mindedly, as if thinking out loud, “Wow, he does have good taste.”

You didn’t have the time to ask her what she meant as she had already turned away, looking for jewelry to finish off your outfit. The earrings, necklace and ring she gave you weren’t huge 20 carat diamonds, but you’d never worn such delicate jewelry before, you were almost too scared to move with them on you in fear of breaking them. The stylist, however, didn’t seem too fussed, and as soon as she was done, said, “Well, that’s all for me. Off you go to hair and makeup now!”

Hair and makeup? You were going to get your hair and makeup done by professionals? You felt like a celebrity. Your whole life, your mom had cut your hair, and you bought your makeup at the drugstore. 

While they didn’t make you look like a Hunger Games Capitol citizen, when they were done with you, the reflection that looked back at you in the mirror was uncanny. You were still you, there was no doubt about that, but you looked like a perfect version of yourself, which only makeup expertly applied could create. Although they’d never seen you before, the makeup artist had managed to accentuate or make disappear lines you had never noticed on your face before, and the hair stylist had done your hair in a simple but very flattering manner, letting it cascade naturally down your shoulders.

The stylists let you admire yourself for a few moments, knowing you probably weren’t used to such pampering, but soon ushered you out to the ballroom; the fundraiser was just about to start, and you needed to be there for the beginning of it. You were made to sit at a table with the other students at the front, close to the stage. An organizer came to see you and explained how the evening was going to go down. Most of the evening would be spent standing, chatting to the guests and persuading them to donate, except when the main course was served. There was no fixed seating chart, so you could go with whomever invited you to sit with them. All in all, your goal was to be as likable as possible, and get guests to understand why scholarships were important without sounding desperate, just like the script indicated.

Tapping your foot nervously, you watched as more people trickled in, each looking richer than the previous. Soon enough, the whole room was seated, and a man you recognized as Jay’s dad arrived on the stage, welcomed by polite applause. You listened intently to his welcome speech, and you could see Jay’s presence and charisma in him; every word of his seemed to be thought out and to have purpose. He did a spectacular job at kicking off the fundraiser, and you were clapping enthusiastically when he was done, not expecting what he was about to do. 

With an extended hand, he pointed at you and the five students you were sitting with. “Of course, this wouldn’t be possible without these six brilliant students whom we have the honor of welcoming tonight. Would you all come up on stage with me?” he asked warmly, although you knew it wasn’t really a question. You all looked at each other bemusedly, but you didn’t have much of a choice, so you all got up and walked up the stairs to the stage.

You hadn’t realized how many people were attending until you were standing right in front of them. The bright spots lighting the stage made it hard to distinguish anyone’s face in the crowd, which only made your position more intimidating to you. Thankfully, you didn’t have to introduce yourself; Jay’s dad did it for you, and after a few minutes, you were free to walk off the stage and start mingling with the guests. Whew.

As soon as the six of you stepped off the stage, guests started approaching you, engaging you in conversation right away. You were a bit taken aback, but remembering you needed to be perfect tonight, you put on the most genuine smile you could muster. Them coming to you was better than having to chase after them. 

An hour and a half passed, and you had been engrossed in so many conversations that you hadn’t noticed so much time had already gone. The only time your attention had been pulled out was when Keeho came to your group, offering you toasts of caviar and bubbly champagne, and discreetly (or at least as discreetly as Keeho could be, which wasn’t very) gave you a wide-eyed look, which you returned. You had no idea why you weren’t working like him either. 

When somebody announced the main course would soon be served, a lot of guests went to sit down, so you were now stuck with the most pretentious man you had ever talked to. All the other guests, no matter how rich or famous or successful they were, had managed to stay somewhat humble and not flaunt how much higher they were in society than you, but it seemed that it was all this man knew how to do. You knew you needed to stay polite even in front of scum like him, but it was hard giving him your undivided attention when he was going on and on about basic economic principles you had learned in your first year of college. Your eyes started drifting around the room, until they fell on a certain someone.

Lee Heeseung was here. Of course he was; his parents, although they were rivals to the Park family, were still huge names in your country’s economy, and they couldn’t not be here tonight. Heeseung’s presence wasn’t required, but you imagined it couldn’t hurt his image to be seen by many adults at a gathering like this one. He was standing by the bar, talking to a girl who was clearly trying to flirt with him, but he didn’t seem to be into her. You hadn’t meant to stare, but his eyes soon met yours. You immediately felt heat rise to your cheeks. He didn’t break eye contact, even when he replied to whatever the girl was saying. His eyes started drifting down from your face to your body, as if he was undressing you with his gaze. You opened your mouth and let out a small gasp at the sheer indecency of the way he was looking at you. The sound you made made you snap out of your daze, and you turned your attention back to the man in front of you, who hadn’t even noticed you weren’t listening to him anymore, so enthralled he was by his own conversation.

You excused yourself, not wanting to be in Heeseung’s sight anymore. You weren’t sure what to make of the interaction - you loved the idea of Heeseung paying so much attention to you, but there was something about the setting and the fact that he was talking with another girl the whole time which made you a bit uncomfortable. Disheveled, you sat down at the nearest table, not paying much attention to who was there.

“Everything alright, miss Y/N?”

That voice was too familiar. Of course, you just had to sit next to Jay’s dad, a.k.a. one of the richest CEOs in the country, a.k.a. the man behind this fundraiser. You changed your expression from distressed to spirited, not wanting him to think you weren’t handling tonight well. Before you could say anything to reassure him, he added, “Not easy, is it, entertaining so many people? I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”

Relief immediately washed over you. You looked down and said, “It hasn’t been too bad, just depends on the person you’re talking to.”

He chuckled. “I thought I saw you talking to CEO Jung. Or rather, CEO Jung talking at you. Sorry about him, he’s just the kind of person you have to learn to deal with.”

You continued talking to Mr Park, and he even invited you to stay at his table when the main course was served. He was surprisingly easy to converse with; he intently listened to you, even though he probably met infinitely more interesting people than you every day, and bounced off of your words naturally. You wondered how such an easy-going man could give birth to an argumentative boy like Jay.

You suddenly wondered where Jay was. You hadn’t seen him all evening, and he wasn’t sitting at his dad’s table either. You assumed he’d be busy with other people, but you couldn’t help being curious about his whereabouts. Not wanting to look around the room searching for him and appear disinterested in his dad, you just asked him directly if he knew where his son was.

Mr Park quirked an eyebrow and asked, “Oh, you know my son?”

“Yes, we’ve had a lot of classes together since freshman year,” you explained.

He seemed deep in thought for a second, until he started slowly nodding his head as if he’d just figured something out. “Of course, you’re Y/N. I knew that name was familiar.”

Why would your name be familiar to Jay’s dad? “Oh, did Jay mention me or some-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Mr Park said, “Ah, there he is,” gaze directed behind your shoulder. And indeed, as you turned around, you saw Jay coming towards your table.

 “Dad, mind if I steal Y/N for a second?”

“She’s all yours,” he replied, sending a wink his son’s way. You looked at Jay and he seemed just as confused about his dad’s words as you. But then his eyes found yours and he motioned for you to get up and follow him with a tilt of his head.

“It was really nice talking to you, Mr Park, thank you so much for your time.”

“Of course. It was lovely meeting you, Y/N. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon enough,” he said with a knowing smile. 

You didn’t even try figuring out what he meant, and just walked with Jay as he took you to a quieter area of the ballroom. Most people had finished eating and had stood up again, so you’d needed to weave through them, and Jay put a hand on your lower back to guide you better. You ignored the warmth that spread on your skin where he touched you, blaming it on the glasses of champagne you’d had. 

When you’d reached a spot where you could talk easily, he turned towards you with a smirk. “I can’t believe you’re already charming your way up to my dad. You’re definitely ambitious, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes but then remembered where you were and thought it might be best to not give in to Jay’s taunts here, so you kept your voice low when you replied. “I didn’t even do it on purpose. I just sat there, and he happened to already be at the table.”

His smirk only grew wider. “Right.” Then he stepped back a bit, and took a good look at you. Unlike Heeseung’s gaze earlier, the way Jay looked at you in that moment, like you were the only thing worth looking at in this beautiful ballroom, made butterflies erupt in your stomach. God, you really had had too much champagne. “I knew that dress would look good on you.”

You should’ve been flustered by the compliment, but you were too confused by Jay’s words: how could he have known about this? Why did he make it sound like he had chosen the dress? The stylist’s words from earlier suddenly pop up in your mind: “he does have good taste.” There was also the fact that you had applied to work as a waitress tonight but ended up as one of the scholarship students. Slowly, things started piecing together in your mind, and you looked up at the well-dressed, smirking boy in front of you in disbelief.

“Jay. Did you do this?”

“Do what?” he said, an innocent tone to his voice, but a mischievous look in his eyes.

Your eyes widened and you lightly slapped his arm. “You did! I- You- Ugh. Thanks, I guess,” you muttered, looking down at your shoes. You were beyond grateful, but your ego stopped you from being too showy about it.

He smiled at you, and you ignored how much you loved it. “It was no big deal. Just had to change your name from the waitering group to the student reps. Took me two seconds,” he said, following your gaze down, bashfully admitting to helping you out.

“Why’d you do it?”

Because you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and the world should know about it, was his immediate thought. But of course, he’d never say that out loud, so he opted for, “I just felt bad for you, really. I know you like to think of us as rivals, so I thought the least I could do was to put us on equal footing tonight.”

Although you had a feeling he wasn’t telling you everything, you weren’t going to press any further. You chatted for a bit longer, the both of you enjoying a relaxed conversation after hours on being on your best behavior, and your ability of talking normally to Jay and not wanting to claw his eyes out surprised you, not to mention the fact that you were… enjoying yourself.

“Anyway, I’m doing the closing speech soon. I’m gonna be awesome, so look closely, yeah?” You knew he wanted to look cool, but you thought he sounded like an excited kid who was about to put on a show for his family. How cute, you thought, and immediately chased that thought away from your brain. That damn champagne must’ve been laced with something.

You both went back into the crowd, and quickly your name was called out by someone you had talked to earlier who wanted to introduce you to someone else. You quickly waved goodbye at Jay, a smile on your face. If anybody had seen him, they would’ve noticed how his cheeks fired up and how he waved excitedly back at you.

And indeed, he had been seen.

His dad had been talking with one of his business partners, but tried to keep some of his attention on you and Jay. He couldn’t help but be curious as to why his son, who had previously never expressed any romantic interest in anyone, was suddenly making sure you attended the fundraiser as a student rep and not a waitress, and why he’d even gone the extra mile and chosen your dress for you. He hadn’t missed the way his son’s face lit up when he was talking to you, and how his gaze lingered on you as you walked away. But he also hadn’t missed how you’d followed Jay without hesitation, and how relaxed you’d looked talking to him. He thought the both of you acted as if it was just you two in a room full to the brim with people. When his wife joined him at the table, he’d told her about their son’s unusual behavior, and she said that she had noticed him looking around as if searching for someone a few times during the evening. They exchanged a knowing smile.

Heeseung had also noticed Jay leading you away from the crowd, and had intently watched your interaction, not even trying to make the girl he was talking to think he was still paying attention to her. He knew you had a crush on him; you couldn’t make it any more obvious. But he also knew how comfortable, how yourself you were around Jay; he’d seen the two of you banter around campus, always arguing about something, whether it was the new law that was being put into place or whether pineapple belongs on pizza or not. Heeseung wasn’t stupid, he’d seen enough rom-coms to know that the girl always ended up with the friend she joked around with and not the hot popular guy that made her feel nervous.

Jay and him had been rivals since he could remember, and not rivals like you and Jay, but proper rivals, who actually had to fight for something. Well, technically, it was their fathers who were competing as CEOs of some of the top firms in the country, but since they were bound to take their place at some point, it had felt like their competition as well. Nothing was off-limits when it came to their rivalry, and you were most definitely not an exception, not to Heeseung. He couldn’t stand seeing Jay have something he didn’t. At that moment, he made up his mind.

Heeseung had to have you.

But before that, Jay needed to give his closing speech. As soon as he’d stepped on the stage, the chatter started to quiet down, and everyone turned their attention to him. Much like you earlier, he hadn’t realized how bright the lights were when standing onstage. He could only see over a hundred people staring right at him, and his confident demeanor from moments ago crumbled at his feet. He scanned the crowd for your face, desperately needing something, or rather someone, to anchor him. When his eyes finally found yours, he felt strength regaining his body. His mother followed his gaze and found you looking right at her son, sending a reassuring smile and thumbs-up his way.

Jay’s speech went very smoothly, and everybody congratulated him for it as they left the room.

—

Back home after a stressful but rewarding evening, all Jay wanted to do was take a shower and pass out in bed. But his parents had other plans.

“So…” started his mother, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“So?” Jay asked, already fearing whatever his mom was about to say.

“Y/N’s a nice girl,” she simply stated, hoping Jay’s reaction would give her more to go on.

And oh boy did it. He immediately started blushing and stuttering at the sudden mention of your name. He knew you’d spoken with his father at the fundraiser, but he hadn’t thought his mom would bring you up.

“Y-Y/N? Yeah, I guess. But what about her?” he said, looking away and trying to sound uninterested, but blatantly failing.

His parents exchanged a look. “C’mon, son,” his dad picked up, “you don’t need to hide something like that from us. We’re very happy that you’ve found a nice girlfriend like Y/N.”

A nice… girlfriend? Had Jay heard that correctly? His parents thought you two were… dating? 

As he stared at them wide-eyed and mouth agape, they just chuckled softly at him. “It’s okay, Jay, really. She made a dazzling impression on all of the guests tonight, and on us. She’s exactly the kind of person you should be dating, so don’t worry about us getting in your way of anything. We approve of your relationship.”

Jay started laughing in disbelief, and his parents just took it as a sign of his relief. If only they knew. “Right,” he said between chuckles, “thanks, guys.”

Why he didn’t deny what his parents were saying was beyond him. A part of him didn’t want to disappoint them by telling them the truth - his mother had always urged him to get a girlfriend, saying he wouldn’t have the time for dating later on in his career, that he should enjoy his college years as much as he could. Another part of him loved the idea of dating you, and it hurt him too much to shatter that thought.

So he just nodded along, saying he was glad they liked you.

“We really did,” said his father. “In fact, you should bring her over for dinner sometime this week. It’d be nice getting to know her in a less formal setting, don’t you think? Ask her what she likes, I’ll ask the chef to cook it specially for her.”

“S-sure,” Jay said, already panicking - he’d either have to come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t come to dinner, or with ways to convince you to be his pretend-girlfriend for a night. If he actually did ask you, he’d have to be very careful about it, otherwise it’d end up with you trying to pull his hair out.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

—

At 10:43 a.m. the next day, you were waiting for Jay in front of the library. Right when you were about to turn your bedside lamp off, you’d received a text from him, asking to meet. Apparently, there was something he needed to tell you, and whatever it was, you were absolutely dreading it. Jay always had a lot of things to say, but he’d never felt the need before to warn you in advance that he needed to tell you something. Those kinds of messages were never very pleasant, and even less so when they came from Park Jongseong. Rereading the messages, you really couldn’t figure out what was so important that required you to take a break from your weekly Saturday morning study sessions.

00:44 archnemesis: Hey Y/N

00:44 archnemesis: Are you still up?

00:44 you: do NOT fuckboy text me jongseong

00:44 archnemesis: Sorry

00:45 you: go away im trying to sleep

00:45 archnemesis: Not trying hard enough obviously

00:45 you: shut up

00:45 you: what do u want

00:45 archnemesis: I need to tell you something.

00:45 archnemesis: Can we meet up tomorrow morning?

00:46 you: wtf

00:46 you: what is it ???

00:47 you: cant u just tell me now??

00:49 you: jay ???

00:49 archnemesis: Um.

00:49 archnemesis: I’ll tell you tomorrow!

00:49 archnemesis: :D

0:49 archnemesis: library 10:45?

0:50 you: ughhhhh

00:50 you: yeah whatever

00:50 you: this better be worth it istg

00:51 archnemesis: Good night Y/N <3

00:51 you: EWWWW

You’d stayed awake for a while after that, trying to figure out whatever it was he needed to tell you, but the only thing you were sure about was that it had something to do with the fundraiser, since he’d texted you after it. Had he finally realized how superior in every aspect you were to him and would finally bow down to you? That seemed pretty unlikely. Did one of the guests there really like you and had spontaneously decided to pay for your studies and offer you an internship at their company? Were they impressed by your intellect and wanted you to become their kids’ private tutor? Possible. Or even better, maybe it was Jay’s parents whose attention you had particularly caught, and they wanted to reward you in some way. Maybe they thought you were amazing and that you’d be a perfect girlfriend for their son, and Jay, ever the daddy’s boy, would now shower you with gifts and attention in order to capture your heart.

Ha, as if, you thought, laughing to yourself. It was a lot less funny when Jay told you about the little misunderstanding.

You were sitting at the library café with Jay, who’d wanted to postpone delivering the news as much as possible and had bribed you with the promise of free hot coffee. Well, free for you, at least. Not that a coffee would create much of a dent in his bank account. After five minutes of chit-chatting, you were getting annoyed with him and didn’t understand why he was being so uncharacteristically awkward and asked him to cut straight to the chase. When he told you his parents thought you were his girlfriend and wanted to have you over for dinner this week, it took all you had to not spit the coffee right in his face. Not only was it ridiculous, it was practically exactly what you had imagined.

“Are you kidding me, Jongseong? I can barely pretend to be your friend, how the hell am I gonna pretend to be your girlfriend?”

Your words were like bullets piercing right through his body, but he had to ignore the pain, telling himself you were just shocked by the sudden news. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I just- I panicked, and I didn’t know how to tell them the truth. They seemed so happy,” he said, head hung low. You knew he was genuinely sorry, because he’d almost never actually said those words to you, so he had to mean them. The only other time you could think of was when he’d dropped his water bottle all over your laptop. The next day, he’d offered you a brand new MacBook with all of his notes already downloaded on it.

You sighed, unsure what to make of the whole situation. At any other time, your first reaction would’ve been to flip Jay off and tell him to get out of his own mess, but you felt like you owed him after what he’d done for you at the fundraiser. Even though he made it seem like no big deal, it still meant a lot to you that you’d gotten to spend the evening making yourself known to the guests and not serving them smoked salmon toasts, and that was all thanks to him.

“I guess I do owe you one, Jongseong.” His head snapped up and he looked at you with the most hopeful eyes you’d ever seen. “But before you get carried away,” you warned, “this is a one-time thing. Find an excuse, say we broke up or whatever. Fake dating is like, the most predictable trope ever,” you said, remembering all the heated discussions you’d had on the topic with Sieun.

But Jay paid no attention to that last sentence - he leapt up from his chair and came over to your side, engulfing you in a surprisingly warm hug. He muttered thank you over and over into your hair before realizing hugging wasn’t something you guys did and he might have just made things way worse. To his relief, when he took a sudden step back, you didn’t look upset at all, but rather amused at his sudden burst of excitement. 

He returned to his seat and cleared his throat. “Right. Thanks a lot, Y/N. My dad likes to have family dinners on Thursdays, so it’ll probably be then. I’ll, uh, I’ll take you there, so don’t worry about that.”

You chuckled at him. “You know I’ll never let you live this down, right?”

He sighed and shook his head, saying, “I know. But I’d rather have that than disappoint my parents, to be honest.” He smiled at you as if to take away some of the gravity of what he’d just said. You thought it wasn’t something he wanted to delve into, so you took a sip of your coffee and brought up the topic of this week’s tutorial for your cinema class, knowing it was a surefire way to start an argument with him. 

—

On Monday at lunch, you were sitting at the cafeteria with your friends. Keeho was telling them how fancy you’d looked and how you’d managed to charm everyone.

“I feel like I should be jealous, but what you did looked a lot more tiring than what I did, to be honest. When you’re a waiter at that kind of event, those rich people don’t even register your presence, so they just say the wildest shit in front of you. Apparently, CEO Cha is having an affair with CEO Liu’s wife, whoever they are.”

You chuckled at your friend, feeling even more thankful towards Jay that you didn’t have to spend your evening like that. The four of you continued chatting, which mainly consisted of complaining about how you already had so much work only two weeks into the semester. You were intently listening to the niche topic Sieun was learning about in her Bio class when someone dropped a bag on the table right next to your tray. The letters ‘Gucci’ were written on it in the iconic but simple font.

Your gaze went from the bag to the person holding it, and of course, it was none other than Park Jongseong himself.

“Hey, Y/N. Hey, guys,” he said, giving your friends a simple nod. They all replied with a confused hi. You were just staring at Jay, wondering what he was doing here.

“I got you something for Thursday night,” he explained. “Gotta wow the parents, you know?” he added with a wink.

“Uh-huh” was your very clever reply. You could feel your friends’ gaze ping-ponging between you and Jay.

Jay looked around the table, an awkward silence spreading between everyone. He cleared his throat. “Well, let me know if it fits or not. See you around.” And with that, he was gone as quickly as he’d arrived. You turned back to your friends, and their confused faces echoed your own. 

“What are you waiting for?” Sunoo nudged your arm. “Take a look inside!”

You took the bag on your lap and pulled out a magnificent green satin dress that was a lot more elegant than the one you’d worn at the fundraiser. You guessed Jay really did want for you to make a good impression on his parents. It seemed to be quite long and to not show too much skin, which you appreciated. You could only hope it would look as good on you as it did seeing it like this.

As soon as you’d taken it out, you’d heard your friends gasp. 

“Oh.”

“My.”

“God,” they’d said in turn, obviously mesmerized by the gift. 

You handed the dress to Sieun, who clearly wanted to admire it up close, and looked into the bag in case there was anything else. You were maybe hoping for a pair of earrings or a necklace, but it was wishful thinking. Instead, you found a sticky note signed Jay, which read, Wear the accessories and shoes from last week. I can’t spoil you too much just yet.

You hadn’t even noticed Sunoo was reading the note over your shoulder until he put his hand over yours in what seemed to be a confidential manner and said, with all the seriousness in the world, “Y/N, be honest with us. Is Park Jay your sugar daddy?”

Sieun and Keeho’s head snapped up and they stared at you expectantly. “What the hell? Why is that the first place your mind goes to?” you said, almost laughing in disbelief.

Bewildered, Sunoo replied, “How can it not? The wink, the Gucci gift, the note? It screams sugar daddy!”

“Wait - didn’t he say something about his parents? I’m not an expert, but I don’t think meeting the folks is sugar daddy etiquette,” Keeho mused, taking this way too seriously.

You took a deep breath. There was no point in not telling your friends what had happened, so you explained the events of the past few days to them, from Jay changing your role at the fundraiser, to his parents thinking you were dating, to dinner with them on Thursday.

When you were done bringing them up to date, they all looked at you with incredulous looks. After a moment, Sieun broke the silence: “Y/N, you’ve become a real walking rom-com. I’m so proud of you.” 

Keeho was tearing his bread apart, throwing chunks into his mouth. “I don’t know. Fake dating is kinda boring, to be honest.” Sieun let out an offended gasp and Sunoo nodded in agreement. 

“We’re not gonna be fake dating. Just for this one evening, I’ll pretend to be his girlfriend, and it’ll be over as quickly as it started,” you said, hoping that’d be the end of this conversation, but your friends wouldn’t back down so easily. 

“Y/N, that’s literally the whole concept of fake dating. You’ll think it’s only that one time, and before you know it, you’ll be married with three children, and it won’t be fake anymore,” Sieun warned, but you just shook your head and laughed, stealing Keeho’s other piece of bread from his tray.

“You guys are blowing this way out of proportion.”

“And you’ll be blowing something else soon…” Sunoo muttered, just loud enough for your table to hear. You let out an offended gasp but Keeho and Sieun just burst into laughter.

“Sunoo!”

“What?!” he replied, imitating your outraged tone but sporting an amused smile. “Your whole rivalry thing is too cute, I can’t take it seriously. You won’t admit it to yourself, but you clearly like Jay a lot more than you do Heeseung,” he said with a shrug, as if it was all so obvious. You tried to find support in Keeho or Sieun’s eyes, but they avoided your gaze, guilty expressions on their faces.

“Guys, come on, you can’t be serious. Jongseong and I are just- we’re just-” Rivals? Friends? Soon-to-be fake boyfriend and girlfriend? Who knew anymore. You took a deep breath. “It’s not like that.”

“Whatever you say,” Sunoo sighed, but to your relief that was the end of the conversation. Your friends quickly moved on to another topic, but their words gnawed at the back of your mind like rabid bunnies. Either they were completely insane, or you had gravely misjudged Jay this whole time. 

—

When Jay rang your doorbell at 7:00 p.m. sharp on Thursday, you were just done applying a thin layer of gloss on your lips. That morning, he’d texted you to ask for your address and tell you to be ready at seven. You took a good look at yourself in the mirror and headed down the stairs to get the door, but your mother had beat you to it. 

Not used to keeping secrets from her, you’d told her everything. She’d looked at you curiously the whole time, a slight smirk on her face as if she knew something you didn’t. And sure enough, when you were finished talking, she’d said, “I knew there was something between you and that Jay boy. You talk way too much about him.”

Not her too, you thought, but you didn’t need to encourage her delusions by telling her your friends thought the same, so you’d tried to defend yourself. “Mom! I just told you, I’m only pretending, I’m not actually his girlfriend. If I did like him, you’d be the first to know.”

She looked at you with a knowing smile that moms loved to wear. “I do know. You’re the one who doesn’t.” You’d dismissed her with a roll of your eyes. Everybody around me’s going crazy, you thought.

When she opened the door, it revealed a very smartly-dressed Jay (but when was he not?), bouquet in hand. He immediately handed them to her and introduced himself.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Kim. I’m-”

“Jay, I know. Y/N’s mentioned you.”

“Has she?” he asked, a genuine grin blooming on his lips. You ignored how the glint of surprise and - hopefulness? - in his eyes tug at your heartstrings.

“Just once or twice, and never positively,” you interrupted, appearing next to your mom. Taking your appearance in, she nodded at you approvingly, but Jay just stood there, mouth agape, seemingly transfixed by you. He only snapped out of his daze when you called out his name.

“You ready to go?” you asked, and hoped that the heat that had traveled to your face was hidden by your makeup.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Let’s go. It was nice meeting you, Mrs Kim.”

“You too, Jay. Thanks for the flowers. I hope Y/N will be a good fake girlfriend to you tonight.”

“Oh, you told her?” Jay asked you, looking somewhat disappointed. 

“I wasn’t gonna lie to my mom about my boyfriend,” you said, nudging him out of the door. “Bye, mom!”

You ignored her reply (“Don’t have too much fun!”) and walked speedily towards Jay’s car, which looked far too expensive for this neighborhood. As you got closer, he took a few quick steps in front of you and opened the passenger door for you. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to let on how the gesture made your stomach flip. “No need to go that far, Jongseong. Don’t try to woo me.”

He hurried to the driver’s seat, looked at you with a grin and said, “Might as well get into character now.” His gaze lingered on you for a second too long, and you started feeling self-conscious when his eyes moved up and down over your body. When you coughed, he suddenly turned his attention back to the front and gulped, then started the car. He looked taken aback himself, as if he hadn’t even noticed he was staring at you. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “I really do have good fashion taste.” 

Although he was technically complimenting himself, you caught yourself hoping he also meant you looked good in the dress he’d chosen for you. “You could have included shoes and jewelry, you know. I wouldn’t have taken it the wrong way,” you said with a playful tone. 

“Sounds like you’re already getting used to a lavish lifestyle,” he retorted, making you smile sheepishly. 

“I’m just not used to dressing up nicely like this. It’s nice,” you said truthfully. You weren’t sure where the honesty was coming from, but something about being in a car with Jay made you feel like you could say anything - it felt safe, like whatever you could tell him would stay between the two of you. What happens in Jay’s car, stays in Jay’s car, or something along those lines. 

Jay wanted to tell you that if you gave him a chance, you could do this anytime you wanted. He’d buy you all the dresses you could dream of, and give you a taste of his world, which he so often found bland and shallow, but that he was sure you could light up in the blink of an eye. But he couldn’t say that, so instead, he said, “Yeah, I noticed. I don’t think anything you’ve ever done or said offended me more than that one time you showed up to class wearing a ‘where the hell have you been, loca?’ t-shirt.”

“Shut up, that shirt is amazing!”

“Maybe, but the movie it’s quoting is an absolute trashfire of a film, if you can even call it that,” he claimed, knowing it’d get a reaction out of you.

“Don’t talk shit about Twilight, Jongseong, or I’ll mess tonight up and your parents will think you’re dating a psycho.”

He turned to you with a smirk. “I’d like to see you try.”

You’d always known Jay was a confident man. It’s obvious in the way he holds his head high whenever he enters a room, or how he manages to stay calm and collected during an argument with someone who’s practically shouting at him (you, usually). And while he was always self-assured during your debates, seeing him act like this to practically flirt - could you describe it like that? - with you rendered you speechless. And you hated being speechless.

So you crossed your arms with a hmph and looked out the window, turning away so he couldn’t catch your fluttered state. 

You finally arrived at his parents’ house after a half-an-hour drive (“You live so far away, do you seriously drive to campus and back everyday?” “Yes, Jay, not all of us can live in a three-bedroom flat in the middle of the city”). As soon as you walked in, his mother greeted you with a warm hug, telling you how pretty you looked, and his father clasped your hand tightly, the lines around his eyes showing as he smiled at you. By the looks of it, you wouldn’t need to do much for them to like you.

You could tell Mr Park was a businessman by the way he didn’t beat around the bush when talking to you. As soon as you’d sat down in the (or at least one of the) living rooms for drinks and small appetizers, he asked, “So, Y/N, tell us about yourself.”

Having anticipated such a question, you started, “Well, I’m an Econ major-”

“Yes, but I know there’s more to you than just academics,” Jay’s dad interrupted with a well-intentioned smile.

You looked at Jay, hoping he could help you out. He just looked back at you as if he was waiting for your answer as much as his dad was. “Right. Um. Where should I begin?” you said with an awkward chuckle. You felt a bit put on the spot, but there was only genuine curiosity in all three pairs of eyes looking at you, so you felt comfortable enough to go on.

“I’ve always lived here. Or, technically, in the suburbs. Since I spend most of my time either studying, working at my part-time job or commuting back and forth between school and home, I don’t have much time for hobbies. I just use my free time to spend time with my friends or my family.” You looked at the three people in front of you, wondering if you’d said enough. After a beat, you added, “Sorry, was that too depressing?”

Mr and Mrs Park chuckled at you, and he instantly reassured you, saying, “No, no, not at all. Tell us about your family.”

You were expecting that one too. “Well, it’s just my mother, my little sister and me. But she’s at boarding school right now, so I only see her during the holidays.”

“Boarding school - that’s pretty impressive,” commented Jay’s mom.

You smiled fondly at the thought of your little sister. “Yeah, she’s a smart cookie. Got there on a scholarship and everything. She likes it most of the time but she does complain about how the people there are all-”

You stopped yourself before your tongue could slip up and potentially offend Jay’s parents. But to your surprise, they smiled and, in turn, said, “Rich and self-centered?” 

“Little kids who think they run the place when they’re only fourteen?”

A chuckle escaped you, not expecting them to share that kind of opinion with you and your sister. An amused tone in your voice, you nodded your head and said, “Yeah, exactly.”

“Yeah, I know all about those. Your boyfriend here might have been born into wealth,” he started, and you tried not to choke on your drink at Jay being referred to as your boyfriend, “but my father’s company, the one I’m in charge of now, only started being successful when I was in high school. My dad worked his way up from the ground, so he and I both know what it’s like to not be well-off. I’ve tried to not turn Jay into one of those rich kids who think they’ll rule the world just cause they have money, and… well, I hope I did a good job.”

You looked at Jay with a grin. He looked right back at you as if to say, I dare you to tell my dad he’s wrong. If this was anyone else in any other situation, you definitely would’ve told them Jay is one of the most privileged people you’ve ever met. You thought for another second - yes, Jay was definitely privileged, but there was a sort of innocence about him. He’d never used his wealth to make you feel inferior to him or anything of the sort. When he’d bought you that MacBook, it was to apologize, not to show off. It was as normal for him to have his meals cooked and laundry washed as it was for you to sigh in defeat every time the price of milk went up, even by just a cent or two.

So, still looking at him, you replied, “Yeah, I’d say you did a pretty good job.”

The way Jay’s eyes looked in that moment, fond and soft, made you want to never look away. But you didn’t want to make it awkward, so you turned back to his parents, who were watching the two of you with affection. Maybe Jay and you were a little bit too good at this whole fake-dating thing.

A maid came into the room to announce dinner was ready, and you all headed to the dining room. When plates of your favorite food arrived, you looked at Jay, astonishment written all over your face.

“How did you know?”

“You might’ve mentioned it here and there…” he sheepishly answered, knowing fully well that he’d gotten the information from a tweet you’d made eight months ago.

As conversation picked up again and you exchanged with his parents over a bunch of different topics, from childhood memories to that weird new Netflix show that’s strangely addicting, you tried to ignore Jay’s stare that was burning into the side of your face. 

“What about your dad?” he suddenly asked, catching everybody in the room off guard. Noticing your confused look, he continued, “Earlier. You said it was just you, your sister and your mom. What about your dad?”

His mom furrowed her eyebrows at him and said, “Jongseong, leave her be. If she hasn’t told you, she probably doesn’t want to talk about it.”

You took a deep breath. “No, it’s alright. I don’t mind talking about it, I just don’t usually bring it up cause it makes people think of me differently? Like they start to pity me just because my dad’s out of the picture, when, really, it hasn’t affected me that much. I’ve never known him, my mom has always raised the two of us on her own.” You looked down at your hands. You hadn’t even realized you’d been fiddling your fingers. “It just seems too cliché, the poor girl who lives in the suburbs and is on a scholarship and doesn’t have a dad and redeems herself by having good grades. Which is why I like to usually keep it to myself.”

You looked back up at them and were relieved when you found understanding and not pity in their eyes. If there was one thing you didn’t want to happen, was for them to think you were leeching off of Jay or trying to get his money. Even though you weren’t actually dating, it would’ve still damaged your ego if they had seen you that way.

A few hours later, dessert was finished, and you could tell everyone was starting to tire (or had had too many glasses of wine) by the way the conversation was starting to make less and less sense. Jay was looking at the three of you in amusement, stone cold sober, as he knew he’d have to drive you home later.

“Well, Y/N, son, we’re not going to hold you hostage here any longer. You still have classes tomorrow,” Jay’s dad said.

His parents led the two of you to the door as you gathered your coat and bag. “It was so lovely getting to know you more, Y/N. You truly are a sweet girl, and we can tell you’re making our Jay very happy,” his mother said, pulling you into a hug.

“You better treat her well, son,” said Mr Park. Jay looked over at you, and there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite explain; all you knew was that it sent shivers straight down your spine. “I will,” he simply said, but with so much honesty, it made you wonder if he actually did mean it.

“Oh, and Y/N, there’s an event this Saturday. It won’t be as fun as ours last week, but I’m sure you could find a way to enjoy it. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt for people to see what a nice, hardworking girlfriend Jay has,” his father said, beaming down at you.

Jay and you exchanged a look, and the panic at the sudden invitation made you say, “Yes, I’d love to attend!” instead of finding a palatable excuse.

You exchanged final goodbyes with his parents, and as soon as you were in the car, you let out a hearty groan.

“My God, what’s wrong with me? Why did I have to say yes to that?”

Jay started the car. “I’m surprised too. If you had given me three seconds, I could’ve come up with an excuse for you. But I mean, I’m not gonna complain.”

You turned your head towards him, a pout on your face. “What do you mean?”

Jay kept his eyes straight on the road as he answered. “Well, like he said, it won’t be a bad look for me to have you on my arm. As much as it pains me to admit, you’re charming and intelligent, and,” he glanced quickly towards you, “I have good fashion taste, so you don’t look like an absolute fool in that department either.”

You snorted at his coyness. “Just say I’m pretty and move on, Jongseong.”

“Is that what I said, though?” he asked, a devilish grin on his face. 

You gasped dramatically, trying to appear as offended as possible. “Your dad literally just told you to treat me well, I’ll have you know.”

“They really fell for it, didn’t they?,” he said with a sigh. “I have to say, you did a pretty good job tonight. Almost got me wondering if you’re not used to being people’s fake date for the night.”

“Yeah, it’s my side job actually.” You smiled at each other, and when the eye contact lasted a second too long, you both quickly turned your head to the road. “So, what’s Saturday night about?” you asked, wanting to break the silence.

“Oh, it’s probably just another boring event where the grown-ups go to socialize and flaunt their wealth or their children’s prowess.”

“Wow, look at you being all critical. I thought you lived and breathed that kind of stuff.”

“I like it when it has a purpose. Like a fundraiser, or a company opening, or whatever. But this is just another excuse for people to show themselves off. You don’t have to come, you know. I can probably find a way out for you.”

Once again, without thinking, you immediately answered, “I’ll come.”

Jay glanced at you quickly, an eyebrow raised. “Wh- Really?”

You shrugged, trying to stay casual. “I mean, I don’t have anything on Saturdays. Might as well keep you company. Turns out you’re not always insufferable.” You’d lowered your voice for that last sentence, only half-heartedly admitting it. But of course, Jay wasn’t going to let you go with it.

“Huh? What was that? I don’t think I heard you,” he teased, leaning slightly towards you.

You gently nudged his shoulder, saying, “Shut up, you heard me. Just because I tolerate you slightly more doesn’t mean you’ve stopped being my number one rival.”

You’d never seen Jay smile that much. You sometimes caught glimpses of it when he was with his friends, but with you, he usually had an arrogant smirk, so seeing his genuine grin made your heart swell with joy you couldn’t explain. 

“Of course not. I wouldn’t assume anything else.”

He dropped you off at your house and made sure you were inside before driving away. When you told your mom about your night, she watched you with a smile, that knowing glint in her eyes still there. When she tried hinting at you having feelings for the boy, you’d gotten off your chair and shouted good night! before heading to bed. 

—

Saturday quickly rolled around the corner, and you were in your room with Sieun, trying on the two dresses Jay had given you to pick from. “They’re both good, I just wanted to see if you’d choose the best one,” he’d said. This time, he’d also included a new pair of shoes and a set of matching jewelry. Your friends kept teasing you about him being your sugar daddy (“you can’t deny it anymore, Y/N”), and you had to admit you were starting to feel a bit like that, even though you weren’t really giving him any sugar. He was just spoiling you like it was his day job.

He was right; both dresses were gorgeous. They were both black, but one of them was body-fitting with an open back, while the other cinched in at the waist and had puffy sleeves. You couldn’t deny that you looked good in the first one; Sieun had let out the loudest gap when she’d seen you in it. But you both agreed that it was on the riskier side, and it was probably more appropriate to wear the second dress.

You were laying on your bed, talking about this and that. It’d been a while since it was just the two of you, and it was nice catching up with her.

“So…” she’d started, an impish tone to her voice. You knew immediately what she wanted to talk about and let out a loud groan, but that didn’t deter her. “Wanna tell me about Jay?”

It was obvious what she was trying to get at, but you weren’t going to give her what she wanted. “Well, he’s rich and has a huge house. Not surprising. He drives well. He’s not half as annoying when he’s in front of his parents. Probably not trying to be as much of a smartass. He seems to think he’s all that. He-”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” she said, laughing. “What I mean is, has anything changed between you two? Have you finally come to your senses about the boy?”

You thought about it for a second. Something had definitely shifted in your perception of Jay. You felt it in the pit of your stomach every time he smiled at you. But it was scary: this wasn’t you and Jay. You and Jay argued, and riled each other up, and got on each other’s nerves. You didn’t crack jokes so you’d hear the other laugh, or agree without thinking when they asked you for a favor. It was confusing, so instead of voicing out those concerns, you lied. “No. Not really.”

But your friend wasn’t buying it. “C’mon. The guy buys you dresses, gets your mom flowers, drives you to his parents’ for dinner. I know it’s not for realsies, and you’ve got integrity or whatever, but you can’t completely be indifferent to it, Y/N. Even you’ve got to admit Jay’s hot.”

You laughed at your friend’s reasoning. “Fine. Maybe he’s not just someone to beat anymore. I guess that’s what fake dating will do to you. But that doesn’t mean I have to say he’s hot.”

She turned to fully face you. “Not even when he’s all dressed up? Or when he hands you a bag that has contents worth thousands?”

Her eyes were telling you that you had to agree with her. You tried to suppress a smile, still not wanting to admit anything. Just because you and Jay had been rivals since you’d met didn’t mean you went blind every time you saw him. Of course, you knew how attractive he was. But you had conditioned yourself to never see him that way, so letting on that you didn’t think he was completely repulsive felt like betraying yourself. 

Sieun laughed at your reaction. “C’mon! Say it!”

You pursed your lips together, suppressing a smile, and shook your head. The tilt to Sieun’s head and the devilish glint in her eyes told you your friend was up to no good - and indeed, a second later, she was on you, tickling your sides and asking you to “say it! Say it!”

“Fine, fine!” you said between breathless giggles. She finally relented. “I think Jay’s hot.”

“Do you, now?”

The sudden male voice made you and Sieun shriek. You sat up in your bed and found its owner - sure enough, Jay was standing in your doorway, leaning against the wall and clearly liking what he’d just heard. Your mother soon appeared behind him, explaining that he’d knocked and she let him in, telling him to go up to your room. She mouthed sorry and quickly scurried down the hall.

“I’m not sure why it took you so long, but I’m glad you’ve finally opened your eyes, Y/N.”

Sieun’s eyes were going back and forth between the two of you, until she stood up and said, “Well, I guess that’s my cue to go. Have fun you two, and tell me all about it on Monday, Y/N!”

Before you could protest, she had already left your room, sending Jay a wink as she passed by him. It was silent for a few seconds as you sat there in embarrassment, cursing the Gods for your awful timing. He walked in and sat down at the edge of your bed, comfortable and keeping his distance at once. The sentence there’s something perfect about him flashed in your mind but you were quick to brush it away. “So, which dress did you choose?”

“The one with the puffy sleeves,” you replied, unable to look him in the eye.

He tutted, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Wrong choice.” You rolled your eyes. “Show me?”

This made you look at him. His smile was taunting, but his eyes were soft. With the way he looked right now, you thought he could ask you anything and you’d say yes. You hadn’t imagined that him sitting on your bed would make you stammer like a schoolgirl in front of her teacher crush, but here you were, almost rendered speechless by the mere sight of him. The fact that he was manspreading and leaning back on his hands, the top buttons of his shirt undone and his trousers stretching against his thighs, wasn’t particularly helping. More shyly than you intended, you told him to turn around and close his eyes, then quickly put the dress on. You were thankful for its lack of zipper - you don’t know if you could have handled Jay zipping your dress up for you.

“Okay. You can turn around now.”

This was already the third time Jay was seeing you all dressed up, but his gaze managed to make the heat rise to your cheeks every time. The corners of his lips rose slightly. “Wrong choice,” he repeated, “but you still look really good, Y/N.”

You couldn’t stop the smile spreading on your face as you coyly replied, tugging at the hem of your dress, “Why thank you, Jay.”

“You gonna be ready to go soon?” he asked, checking the time on his phone.

“Yeah, just need to put on jewelry and shoes, and I’m good. Sieun did my makeup for me earlier.” You put on the thin silver earrings and ring Jay had gotten for you and checked your reflection in the mirror. You put a hand to your collarbone, thinking the area looked a bit empty without a necklace.

“Should I wear the necklace from last time? It looks a bit weird without anything right now,” you asked Jay, keeping your gaze on the mirror. 

“Um, I’ve got something, actually. I forgot to give it to you with the rest of the things.” He fished a small box out of his bag and got up to stand behind you. He took out the necklace and put it around your neck, asking you to hold your hair up. You complied, looking at his reflection in the mirror. His hands slightly brushed the back of your neck as he locked the necklace, and you had to keep yourself from visibly shivering at his touch. This was infinitely worse (or better) than him zipping up your dress.

He absent-mindedly let his hands slide along your shoulders until they came to a halt on the sides of your arms. His eyes met yours in the mirror, and with a smile, he said, “All done.”

—

Nothing, not even the fundraiser of the previous week, could’ve prepared you for how lavish this party was. Whereas the fundraiser has been in an 18th century ballroom, in the old part of your city where most of the architecture was traditional, this event was taking place in the newer, richer part of the city where skyscrapers constituted most of the area. You were at the top of one of those skyscrapers, and from the huge windows that made up two of the four walls of the spacious room, you could see the whole city laid out right in front of you, as if it was yours to take. If having money meant seeing this everyday, you thought you could understand why rich people got addicted to it. 

As Jay and his dad had warned, the atmosphere that evening was very different from that of the fundraiser. Instead of gathering for a cause, this just felt like an excuse to get drunk and eat tiny, tiny appetizers that probably cost a hundred dollars each, all while looking rich and fashionable. The room was quite dark, only the moon outside and the small LED lamps on every table bringing light in. You’d never seen such an impressive collection of alcohol (to be fair, you’d only ever been to frat parties where most of the alcohol was cheap beer and dodgy brands of vodka), and you were really going to have to restrain yourself from trying out every cocktail the barman offered. Although most of the people there were in their forties to sixties, and the younger people were only there thanks to their parents, the dress code wasn’t as formal as you’d have imagined it to be, and Jay’s assessment of your dress as the “wrong choice” now made more sense. The women wore dresses that showed quite some skin, or didn’t leave much to the imagination, and the men had left their suit blazer behind and hadn’t buttoned their shirt all the way up.

It was all a bit mind-boggling at first, but you soon got used to it, and Jay’s warm hand on your lower back reassured you. At first, the two of you walked around together, talking to different people, and hoping you were making your “relationship” clear to them. You were glad Heeseung or anyone that would’ve recognized you wasn’t there: you could handle pretending to be Jay’s girlfriend in front of his parents and other random people, but in front of the whole school, that would’ve been a whole other level of fake dating.

Watching people slowly slip into a drunk state as the hours passed was just about the only source of entertainment you got that night. The two cocktails you’d tried out were way too strong to your liking, so you didn’t feel like drinking anymore, and Jay couldn’t because he was driving you home later on. When most guests were beyond the point of being able to hold a coherent conversation, you and Jay took it as your cue to leave. You found his parents among the crowd to tell them goodbye, and you could tell they weren’t completely sober by the way they kept telling you you were amazing and made you promise three times you’d attend more of these events. Guess you couldn’t back out now.

And indeed, as weeks passed, it became a normal thing for you to accompany Jay every time he had an event to attend. Your wardrobe was going to burst from all the outfits he kept buying you, but you weren’t going to complain. Jake and Sunghoon, as sons of CEOs of smaller but still important companies, were sometimes present. They usually ditched these types of events, and you couldn’t blame them, but they still made the effort from time to time. You were already friends with Jake before; the two of you had lived in the same dorm building and kept finding each other in the study room late at night, then started to bond over insolvable questions and watered-down instant coffee. Sunghoon, on the other hand, you hadn’t had many chances to talk to, and you couldn’t lie, judging by his appearance alone, you had first thought he was even more self-centered than Jay. But after talking to him for just a minute, you found that that cold facade quickly broke down and he was easy to talk to and very funny - in his own way, but funny nonetheless.

Heeseung wasn’t always at these events, but whenever he was, you couldn’t miss him. He always garnered attention, especially from the female guests, but he always kept his eyes trained on you. In all your three years of liking him, he’d barely spoken a word to you, so why the sudden interest? Usually, you’d have craved his attention; but for some reason, at those parties, you felt indifferent towards it. You hated how he was always with a different girl and never approached you, yet wasn’t trying to keep his glances towards you discreet at all. Jay noticed it too, and a couple times you’d even had to stop him from going up to Heeseung and asking him what the hell he wanted. 

Since you didn’t have money to bedazzle people with, you always tried to make a good impression with your conversation and intellect, but some nights you just weren’t up to it and spent most of the time laughing with Jake and Sunghoon, as Jay was often too busy talking to someone else. Tonight was one of those nights; half an hour into the party, an important businessman approached Jay and started talking to him, completely ignoring you. He always ended up apologizing later on, but you didn’t reproach him for it - you knew he had a reputation to uphold and that these events were important for him. Plus, it wasn’t like he owed you anything - you weren’t his girlfriend after all, even if the line between real and fake had started to blur more and more often as of late. 

Feeling out of place, you looked around the room and found Jake and Sunghoon at the bar, six shots lined up in front of them. You had never gotten drunk at any of these events, not wanting to risk embarrassing Jay or his parents, but tonight seemed like it was gonna be the most boring one as of yet. So you gestured to Jay that you were leaving and joined the two boys.

“Room for one more?” you asked when you reached them. They turned around and smiled at you; this was clearly not their first drink of the night. 

“Of course!” replied Jake excitedly, beaming at you. You could tell he already had a few drinks in his system. Without further ado, you each took a shot glass in your hand, clinked them and brought them to your lips, dipping your heads back. The burning of the alcohol as it glided down your throat was both repulsive and intoxicating, and you were soon reaching for the second one. The boys cheered you on and quickly mirrored you. 

Although you’d promised Jay you’d always be on your best behavior, as the evening went on, you never refused a drink that the servers approached you with or the boys offered you. Without Jay to make snide remarks about the snouty guests with, the evening was a lot less fun, so you couldn’t help but down every glass of alcohol that came near you; since Jake and Sunghoon were doing the exact same thing, none of you were realizing exactly how drunk you three were getting. At least, you weren’t going around the room, mumbling drunkenly to everyone; you were staying at a table in the corner, mumbling drunkenly to each other.

Jay was observing you from afar, trying not to worry and stay focus on the conversation (no matter how mind-numbing) he was having; but when he saw you almost fall out of your chair and burst into laughter right away instead of regaining your senses, he thought it was time to come check on you. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for having left you alone for most of the night, and he knew Jake and Sunghoon never stayed sober through these events, but in his defense, he didn’t think any of you would go that far.

He took a seat in the chair next to you, leaning close to you so you could hear him over the music and chatter of the guests. He asked you how you felt, and you gave him a lopsided smile in response. “Me? I feel great. This place is awesome once you’ve had-” you hiccuped, “a few drinks.”

Jay sighed but had an affectionate look on his face. “Right. I think it’s time to get you home.” He saw you open your mouth in what was probably going to be protest, so before you could say anything, he added, “And don’t even argue with me. I’m taking you home, let me just go let my parents know first. You two figure it out on your own,” he told Jake and Sunghoon, who had already started to doze off on their chairs.

He got up and headed towards his parents, and you watched him walk away with a pout on your face. Your vision was blurry from the alcohol and you could barely make out any faces, but you waved in what you hoped was the general direction of his parents. 

“She just keeps getting better, doesn’t she? Even when she’s drunk, she doesn’t embarrass herself,” said Mr Park when Jay announced your departure. “I’m glad you have her, son.” Jay was glad for the dimness of the room, which meant his dad wouldn’t notice how hard he was blushing. Even if it was all an act, thanks to his parents, he had gotten closer to you than he thought he ever would.

He bid goodbye to his parents and a few other guests, including Jake’s and Sunghoon’s parents, making them aware of their kids’ state, then went back to get you. The trek to the car wasn’t the easiest as tiredness had started to hit you and your body grew heavier against your will. You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the back of the passenger seat and Jay couldn’t help but think you were the cutest thing in the world. He then realized how far gone he must be to think you still looked precious in your current state.

The car ride was silent, your quiet snores and the soft chatter of the radio the only sounds filling up the space. Jay thought you were dead asleep as you didn’t wake up when he fished your keys out of your bag and carried you bridal style out of the car and to the door, but really, you just didn’t wanna have to walk. When he got to the door, though, you thought it would’ve been unfair to make him struggle that much, so you opened your eyes and quietly told him to let you on the ground. He walked you to your room, tucked you in bed and even got a wet wipe to take your makeup off for you. 

As he gently swiped it over your eyes, trying not to hurt you, your drunken state got the best of you and you asked, voice barely over a whisper, “Why are you doing all this?”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, and you thought he might not have heard you, until he replied, “Because I want to.” You were too tired to press the matter any further, although you desperately wanted to. You’d have to wait until you were sober - if you’d have the courage to bring the subject up then.

When he was done and got up from your bed, the sudden absence of his presence around you made you panic, so you called out, “Jay?”

“Yeah?” he said, and you hoped you weren’t imagining how expectant he’d sounded.

“Will you stay?”

Your eyes were too heavy to even open, so you couldn’t see his reaction. After a second that felt like an eternity, he answered, “Of course.”

You heard him steal a pillow and lay down on the carpeted floor next to your bed. Maybe it was the remnants of alcohol in your system, or the fact that spending so much time together, especially as his girlfriend - fake girlfriend - had made you see him in a new light, or the fact that you felt like your whole world would collapse if you didn’t have him next to you at that moment, or all three of those things. All you knew was that something beyond your control made you whisper “come here” in the quiet of your room, and, when he got under the covers with you but kept his distance, made you wrap your arms around him and cling onto his shirt as if he would disappear.

You slept like a baby that night, but Jay barely got a wink of sleep, the sound of his own heart beating uncontrollably keeping him awake.

—

You woke up that Sunday morning with a ringing headache, an upset stomach and a thirst you knew you wouldn’t be able to quench no matter how much water you drank. Your bed was empty, and the only thing that reminded you Jay sleeping overnight wasn’t a fever dream was his scent lingering on your pillow. The pang in your heart at his absence was hard to ignore - you were definitely curious about what it’d be like to wake up in Jay’s arms. 

The busy chatter coming from the kitchen forced you out of your bed, although you would’ve rather stayed there all day. As soon as you opened your bedroom door, the smell of pancakes and sizzling bacon attacked your nose, and you hurried downstairs.

The sight of Jay cooking breakfast for you and your mother alone was enough to cure your hangover. You sneakily watched from the staircase as he expertly flipped pancakes and cooked eggs at the same time, all while holding a conversation with your mom. You walked into the kitchen and poured yourself a cup of coffee before taking a seat next to your mom, trying to but failing to suppress a smile. “I didn’t know you were also a housewife, Jongseong,” you said, voice still groggy with sleep.

“I thought it was the least I could do after making you attend such an awful event,” he answered, and you had the suspicion he was only being nice because your mom was there, even though she knew you two weren’t actually dating. 

He kept that energy all throughout breakfast, making your mom laugh, and you watched him play his charm on her, glad you didn’t need to participate in the conversation. Any mom would be lucky to have him as a step-son, you caught yourself thinking.

Your mother hugged him when he left, and turned to you with a smile as soon as she’d closed the door. “Y/N, there’s no way in hell you don’t wanna date that boy. Hell, if he wasn’t half my age, I probably would.”

You took a cold water bottle from the fridge and said, “We’re not talking about this,” then headed up the stairs to your room. You ignored her calling after you and laid down in bed. Last night had given you a lot to think about.

—

You never got as drunk as that night again, not wanting to repeat that situation. Your relationship with Jay had already changed so much in so little time, but now, there was a lingering tension that always kept you on edge, and it wasn’t due to the constant arguing. It was due to the way you couldn’t get his scent on your sheets out of your head and the way he couldn’t forget how you had held onto him that night. You two had always said whatever was on your mind to each other, especially if it was something that would annoy the other, but now unspoken words constantly lingered between the two of you.

Your friends saw right through you; even though you tried to play it cool, it was painfully obvious that Jay was much more than just competition to you now. You hadn’t told them about the time he’d slept over and made you breakfast, knowing you’d never hear the end of it; but they didn’t need to know about that to see something had changed. It was clear in the way you talked about him, which had gone from irritated to excited, or how you never mentioned Heeseung anymore. One time, you’d even said “dating Jay” instead of “fake-dating,” and Sunoo had immediately picked up on it.

“That-that’s what I meant!” you’d exclaimed defensively, but they’d all looked at you with teasing smiles.

Jay hadn’t been very discreet when he’d given you bags of designer clothes all over campus, like in the cafeteria, in a random hallway, or in a lecture hall, and given his immense popularity (you know, being handsome and rich and all that), a few rumors about you two dating were being spread around. But they hadn’t really blown up, since the both of you always denied them whenever someone asked you if they were true, because you didn’t need to keep the pretense at uni. 

The pretense - because that’s all it was, of course. Play pretend. Fake dating, keyword fake. But everything with Jay felt too real - the laughter in his car on the way to and fro the events, the smiles you exchanged from across the room, his hand brushing against yours when you sit next to each other during lectures. It wasn’t enough to have his arm around your waist once or twice a week, and it drove you crazy that you had him in bed right next to you but that you’d let him go. You needed to have him close, and for it to be real.

It was a sunny March afternoon when you realized this. Your week was surprisingly unbusy - along with the preparation for your lectures and tutorials, you only had two small online quizzes to complete, and all your bigger deadlines were so far away that even you didn’t see the point in starting on them already. So, armed with your favorite book and plenty of snacks, you’d decided to head to the park next to campus and spend a relaxing afternoon in the sun. It went as planned for about an hour, when an all too familiar voice called out your name - a voice that used to make you sigh in annoyance and roll your eyes automatically, but that now made your heart skip a beat in nervousness, you realized with some alarm.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” He sat down next to you on your picnic blanket, beaming at you like you were his good old friend he’d just run into. He had a professional-looking camera with him, something you’d never seen him carry around. You were so taken aback by his excitement at seeing you that no words formed in your mind, and you just raised your book and waved it stupidly.

Jay chuckled when he saw what you were reading. “Twilight, of course. And that’s the last one, isn’t it?” He shook his head in mock-disappointment at you. “I can’t believe you would put yourself through the torture of reading four of those books, Y/N.”

You just mumbled something about them being fun to read, turning your gaze back to the cover of the book you were holding. What the hell was wrong with you?! Usually, you’d be quick to shoot an answer back at Jay, either defending yourself or attacking him on one of his own weird preferences (you’ll never forget the day they had corn at the cafeteria and Jay had scarfed down at least five cobs in one sitting). But right now, Jay’s presence next to you turned your insides to liquid and rendered you unable to think properly. You hated it.

But then you noticed something on the book cover - “Jay, how do you know this is the last one?” From the corner of your eye, you saw Jay’s head snap up while you turned the book in your hands. “There’s no number on it.”

“O-oh,” he started, and judging from the growing blush on his face, you knew you’d caught him. This brought some of your usual confidence back to you. “Isn’t it common knowledge that Breaking Dawn is the last book in the series?”

You giggled at that. “Absolutely not.” His guilty expression only made you want to press further, and you added, “That’s something you’d only know if you’d watched all the movies and made the effort to remember the separate titles.”

He looked away, letting out a small hum as he found sudden interest in his camera. You were still smiling at him in disbelief. “Jongseong, have you seen all five Twilight movies?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and kept avoiding your gaze. “Pffft. No.”

“Jongseong.”

At the sound of his name, he abruptly turned his head in your direction, and his glare only made you smile even more. “You’ve actually seen all five movies, I can’t believe this,” you said, almost laughing. Jay’s eyes softened slightly, just enough for you to notice. He turned his attention back to his camera, but he was smiling down at it as he spoke this time.

“It’s just that you’ve mentioned them so often, I thought I should check at least the first one out. Turns out they’re pretty addictive,” he admitted sheepishly.

“So you watched them for me?” you asked, and your voice was more admirative than you’d had intended it to be - you wanted to tease him, not let him know that what he’d just said actually touched you.

“I watched them for… research purposes,” he conceded. Your eyes met. Your cheeks were starting to hurt from all the intense smiling this conversation was bringing you, but you couldn’t help it. This time, you were the one to look away.

“Research purposes, of course.” A short silence ensued, the sort of silence you should’ve been used to with Jay by now but that always made you feel giddy - the sort that’s awkward in a lighthearted way, the sort where you’re repeating all the words that have just been said in your head and committing them to memory. The sort where you hope the other is feeling all the things you’re feeling.

You broke it first. “What about you, what are you doing here?”

Jay raised his head, looking like he’d just remembered he had come here for another purpose than just talking to you. “Right. I have a project for this elective I’m taking, so I need to film some stuff and I thought it’d be nice to do it here,” he explained, shrugging.

“Sounds cool,” you said, and you hoped he knew you actually meant it. He looked at you again, and he seemed surprised. “Tell me more,” you added, and from the way his features lit up, you could tell you had said the right thing. You positioned yourself more comfortably on the blanket as you listened to him.

“Oh, well, our professor’s a bit of a romantic so the project is all about finding beauty in the small things, the happiness around us, love…” 

Your gazes locked the moment he said that word, but it only lasted a second. Jay was quick to clear his throat and go back to his explanation, but it took you a few more seconds until you could focus on his words again. When you snapped out of it, he was showing you some films he’d already taken. They were all very short, just three or four seconds long, but a peacefulness emitted from each of them. An encouraging message scribbled into a lecture hall table, a cat laying on a windowsill, enjoying the sun, an old couple walking slowly hand-in-hand, teenage girls celebrating a birthday at an ice cream parlor, the metro passing quickly through the frame as the sunset paints the sky orange in the background. All beautiful moments that make up life, but that you never take the time to fully appreciate.

“This… this is beautiful, Jay,” you breathe, mesmerized by what he’d manage to capture.

“Yeah? Not too cheesy?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

“Not at all. I think your professor will love this, you completely grasped the subject.”

He let out a shaky breath of relief, his smile getting wider. “Nice,” he said under his breath. Then he suddenly turned his head to look at you, an intensity in his gaze you hadn’t expected. “Would you mind if I took a video of you? Add you to the film?”

“W-what, like here? Right now?”

“Yeah,” Jay said, and when he smiled at you like that, who were you to say no?

“Okay, sure.” You tried to shrug, play it cool, but something about Jay looking at you through his lens and adding a video of you to all those beautiful ones he’d just shown you made your heartbeat speed dangerously.

“Great,” he beamed. “Just read your book. Pretend I’m not here,” he instructed. As if you could be anything less than hyper-aware of his presence, you thought.

Thankfully, the video was shot in just a few minutes as Jay searched for the best angle to take it from. Before you knew it, he was already back next to you, mirroring your position on the blanket as he laid on his stomach. You tried to ignore how his shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned on his forearms, showing you the video. You had to admit, it looked really nice - from this angle, the sun shone down on you perfectly, and you could see the wind blowing through the tree leaves in the background. It fit perfectly with the other videos.

“Beautiful,” Jay whispered, looking at the film with nothing but fondness in his eyes.

You didn’t linger on his words too long, just took the chance to tease him: “Are you complimenting me or your videography skills?”

The look in his eyes didn’t change as he turned his head and gazed down at you. “You, of course.”

A smirk tugged the corners of his lips up as he took in your flustered expression, your incoherent mumbles. “Whatever,” you mumbled when you regained the ability to speak. 

Another comfortable silence settled between the two of you as Jay busied himself with his camera while you read the same paragraph over and over, unable to concentrate on the words. You desperately wanted to say something, but had no idea what, so you were grateful when Jay broke the silence.

“Just need to edit this all together on my laptop, and then I’m all done. Thanks for your help, Y/N.”

“I didn’t do anything, though,” you said with a small smile. His compliment from earlier was still ringing in your ears.

“But you did. I think that shot of you will end the film perfectly.” 

Sure, Jay had gotten nicer and nicer to you as time passed - but today, he was really laying it on thick. He was making it hard to breathe properly. All you could do to save yourself was change the subject.

“So, this is for the Visual Studies part of your degree, right?”

For the second time today, Jay’s expression went from surprise to delight - you remembered, he thought. “It is, yeah,” he replied, with a wide grin he couldn’t control. He seemed to hesitate for a bit, as if deliberating whether he should say whatever it was he wanted to say or not. You were happy to see he opted for telling you. “If it was up to me, it’s the only thing I’d have done.”

You studied him for a bit. With just this simple sentence, you realized Jay’s life wasn’t as simple as you’d always imagined it to be. “But it’s not up to you, I’m guessing.”

He smiled sadly, and you had to resist the urge to take him in your arms. All these things you had been feeling for him, they weren’t supposed to be there, and you were getting really tired of fighting them back.

“It isn’t, no.” He turned over to lay on his back, and you imitated him, so that you were now both staring up at the sky. He sighed before speaking again. “My father isn’t a particularly conservative man, but he does like tradition. He wants to keep the company in the family, and as his only child, I’m the one the responsibility falls upon. He’s never even asked me if this was what I wanted to do, just assumed I’d be happy with it.”

In your three years of knowing Jay, you’d thought how unfair it was that he wouldn’t have to go through the hoops of job applications and job interviews. He already had a top position waiting for him as soon as he got out of college. But now you realized that he was completely trapped in the position - all of the decisions you’d taken academics- and career-wise had been your own, while Jay’s had been chosen for him in advance.

“I picked up photography as a hobby to get away from it all and ended up really falling in love with it. I have control over my camera even if I have zero control over anything else in my life,” he explained with a defeated chuckle.

You let your head fall to the side and looked at him. “I had no idea about any of this.”

Jay met your eyes and smiled. The sun was right behind you, so he had to shield his eyes from it to look at you. “Of course not. I never mentioned it.”

“I feel like I should’ve known, for some reason.”

His smile got wider. You looked away. “Why?”

“Just ‘cause. Maybe I would’ve gone easier on you if I knew you were also struggling.”

“I wouldn’t have let you.” He bumped your shoulder with his, making you let out a chuckle.

A beat passed before you spoke again. “Guess we both have a lot of pressure on our shoulders, huh? Even if they’re different kinds.”

“Guess we do.”

“Then we’re more similar than I’d thought,” you said, and looked at him again.

“Guess we are.”

A smile bloomed on your lips, and Jay’s eyes drifted down to it. That simple action made you panic, and you suddenly sat up. He didn’t have time to ask if everything’s alright, you were already throwing your stuff back in your bag and mumbling something about the time and having to go. You stood, and turned to Jay before scurrying off. “I’ll see you around.”

Jay chuckled, slightly confused, but let you go. It wasn’t until he left himself that he’d realized you’d left without your picnic blanket.

— 

After that afternoon, you tried to pretend nothing happened, and that you hadn’t run away just because of Jay glancing down at your lips. You were already getting worked up over things you shouldn’t even be thinking about when it came to him - you didn’t need to have Jay kissing you on your mind.

Thankfully, Jay didn’t bother you about it, and you got back into your routine of arguing by class and pretending to be a couple by night. Everything was fine.

That is, until Mr Park happened.

You had waited all week, hell, all month for this: Jay’s dad was about to give a special talk for the School of Business on how to get a company started and efficiently run it, but most importantly, he would announce how to apply for a summer internship at his firm. You’d made sure to get there early so you could get a good seat. He noticed you when you walked in the amphitheater, and motioned to you to come see him.

“Y/N! Lovely to see you, thanks for coming,” he greeted, beaming down at you. It always surprised you just how similar his smile was to his son’s.

“Of course, Mr Park! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Come and see me after the talk, yeah? There’s something I want to tell you.”

God, what was it with Park father and son to announce things like that? Why not just say it straight away? You kept those thoughts to yourself and nodded, then sat down at a seat in the front.

You listened intently the whole time and took down rigorous notes. When it was over, you had to wait another twenty minutes as people asked him questions, until he finally announced that was all he had time for today. You headed down towards the stage, and complimented him on his talk. Most people in the room had started trickling out, but there were still a few students waiting at the doors, hoping to catch him before he left.

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” he said with a chuckle, before taking a deep breath. “I realize now what I said earlier might have made you nervous, but don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.” 

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Good. “I just wanted to thank you for being such a good girlfriend to Jay. I’ve always been proud of him, but I know he has a lot on his shoulders, so it’s nice to see that he has someone like you to rely on.”

You smiled at Mr Park, saying it was nothing, but you felt guilty. He truly believed in you and Jay, when the two of you were only pretending. Even though it didn’t always feel that way anymore. 

“Oh, and for the internship, I’m sure you’ll understand that it wouldn’t look too good if I gave it to you. But don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word for you wherever you decide to apply.”

A second passed. Then another, and another, until your lack of answer was becoming weird, and you had to say something. “Oh. Right. Of course, I understand,” you replied, hoping the disappointment in your voice wasn’t too obvious. You exchanged a few more words until you said you needed to get back to studying.

As you turned around to exit the room, you noticed everybody who had been waiting for Mr Park was staring right at you, wide-eyed. You tried to ignore them and get to the doors, but a girl stopped you. “So the rumors are true, you really are dating Jay?”

You’d never seen her in your life and were a bit shocked that a stranger could demand information about your love life, but you nonetheless shook your head and started to say, “What? No.”

“Why are you lying? We just heard everything,” said another voice.

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter anyway, just don’t lie.”

You turned your gaze away from the students to look behind you at Mr Park. Or more precisely, at the lecturer mic wrapped around his waist. From where you were, you could make out a tiny red light on the mic, signaling it was still on.

Crap.

—

As soon as you were outside, you called Jay. He picked up after a few rings, groaning, “What? I’m at the library.” Ah, there was the Jay you knew.

“I’ll be here in two, come outside.”

“But-”

“Right now,” you said sharply and hung up. 

Jay had wanted to scold you for disturbing him like that, but as soon as he saw you, eyebrows furrowed and biting your lip nervously, worry overcame him. “Hey. You okay?” he asked gently, placing his hands on your forearms.

“Yeah. I’m fine, but, um, everybody knows. »

He looked at you questioningly, and when you wouldn’t explain further, he asked, “Knows what?”

“You. Me. That we’re dating. Well, they think we’re dating.”

“What? How do they know?”

“Your dad. We talked after his presentation, and he thanked me for being a good girlfriend, except his mic was on. So everybody heard. And you know how gossip travels here, so everybody’ll know by tonight,” you said, sighing in exasperation.

Jay thought for a while. “Well, who cares if they know? We don’t have to change the way we act with each other. That’d be more suspicious, if anything. We’ll just have to not deny it when people ask if we’re dating.” 

Your frustration got the best of you and you scoffed, giving Jay a harsher look than you wanted to. His hands left your forearms. “How far is this gonna go, Jay?! How much longer do we have to-” You realized how loud your voice was, and switched to whisper-shouting instead of just shouting. “To pretend? I can let you parade me around those CEOs and whatnot, but I don’t wanna have to keep the charade up on campus, too.”

Jay’s law locked. He looked like you’d just punched him. But he didn’t say anything, so you dropped it. “Anyway, that’s not even the bad part. Your dad told me I wouldn’t get the internship.  And it’s fine, I guess I can get one somewhere else. But I wasn’t expecting it, and I was really looking forward to working at your dad’s firm.”

Again, he was silent for a small while, until he muttered, “Right.”

You looked up at him, and he was avoiding your gaze. Why wasn’t he surprised, or angry? Why wasn’t he reacting?

“Did… did you know?” you asked, unable to keep your voice from shaking.

Nothing.

“Jay. Did you know?” you repeated, tone harsher, more impatient.

“Um. Yeah, I knew,” he mumbled. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. 

You shut your eyes for a few seconds, trying to grasp the situation. “Wh- you knew? And you didn’t say anything?” 

“Sorry,” he said, eyes trained on his shoes.

“Sorry? That’s it?” You shook your head in disbelief. You almost wanted to laugh. “How long have you known?”

“Since the beginning, really. My dad’s not the type to do favors, and he wants to keep up that image. So if you’re my girlfriend, he wouldn’t give you the internship.”

You couldn’t say anything. Not getting the internship was one thing. You could get over it. But Jay knowing from the start and keeping it from you, that was what really hurt you. You could feel tears forming in your eyes, but you walked away before Jay could see just how much he’d upset you.

“Y/N!” he called after you. He grabbed your wrist, making you stop in your tracks and turn around. The sight of you, teary eyes and staring at him with fury in your eyes, and knowing he was the reason behind it, made him indescribably angry at himself.

“Whatever it is you have to say, I don’t wanna hear it, Jongseong.” He tightened his grip on your wrist before you could snatch it away from him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know you wanted that internship. If I did-”

“If you did? Then what? You wouldn’t have asked me to be your pretend girlfriend? You would’ve let me have a chance at the internship?” You shook your head. “Of course not. So save it.”

You managed to get out of his grip and continued walking away, ignoring him as he called out your name again. When you were a few meters away, you turned around and said, venom only in your voice, “I hope you realize how selfish you are, Jay.”

That’s when his heart broke.

—

Jay had been right when he said people wouldn’t care about the two of you ‘dating.’ However, the people who did care, your friends, were more confused than anything: you had gone from bickering non stop, to denying couple rumors, to not talking to each other. It’d been a week since your argument with Jay, and you still didn’t want to hear him out. You didn’t want to have anything to do with him: you straight-up ignored him every time he tried to get you to talk to him, had blocked his number and shut down your friends and mom whenever they mentioned him.

You missed him; you missed his stupid arguments, and his stupid jokes, and his stupid face, and how it had started to feel like he genuinely cared for you. Or at least, that’s what he’d made you think. And he’d made you think it so well, that you thought you might have been starting to genuinely care for him as well. Which only made his betrayal a hundred times worse.

You’d decided to drown your sorrows in textbooks, and spent most of your time at the library. On Thursday, you were searching for the week’s essential reading in the Econ section, and as you took out the book in question, you saw a pair of eyes staring right at you. You tried not to shriek but you felt like your soul had left your body. You’d barely had time to gather your spirits when the culprit had come round to your side of the bookshelf, and of course, it was none other than Lee Heeseung. God, you thought, could that boy get any weirder?

“Trouble in paradise, or so I’ve heard?” he asked in lieu of a normal greeting. Whatever happened to hello?

“That’s none of your business, Heeseung,” you replied curtly, opening the book.

He tried not to be taken too aback by your attitude. He was used to stammering and blushing Y/N, not you-better-not-give-me-any-shit Y/N. He wouldn’t say he disliked the change.

“I’m not sure why you thought dating a guy like Jay was a good idea in the first place, anyway. You could do a lot better, you know,” he said, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of it all. When you didn’t answer, he went on. “You know, we’ve missed you at the frat parties. I know you’ve been going to all those boring company events, but don’t you think it’d be more fun to let loose with us? Tomorrow night?”

This made you look up at him. He had that gaze again, the one you’d seen all those times, and you remembered why you’d liked him for so long. Something about his eyes, about the way he was waiting for you to say yes, made you reply, “I’ll think about it.” You returned his smile and headed back to your seat. You did think going to his party would be fun, and you definitely needed some of that right now.

Plus, you had the perfect dress for the occasion.

—

So here you were, standing in front of the frat house’s door, Sieun, Sunoo and Keeho at your sides, in the tight black dress Jay had given you but you hadn’t chosen for that one event. They were all used to this kind of party, but you’d only been a few times, and although they’d all hyped you up for it, you suddenly felt yourself deflate. 

“Guys, what if I just embarrass myself like last time? I don’t think I could live with that-”

“Nope! We’re not having this conversation again!” Sieun exclaimed, already pushing you inside. “You look hot as fuck, and tonight you’re gonna have so much fun and forget all about Jay.”

Keeho and Sunoo gave her a stern look. “Sorry,” she quickly apologized, but you barely heard her over the bass of the booming music. It was 11 p.m. and the party was well into motion. People were drunkenly dancing on the designated dance floor, and you tried to not conjure up memories of that last party. There were people everywhere you looked: on the staircase, in the backyard, in the kitchen. 

Your friends and you headed first to the mini-bar and shot down some vodka for liquid courage. As you started chatting, trying to see who was there, Heeseung approached you.

“Y/N! You came! And you look really good,” he said, taking in your figure. He pulled you into a hug which you returned warmly. The vodka was already having its effects on you, apparently.

“Can I get you guys a drink?” he asked you and Sieun. Keeho and Sunoo had already disappeared to the dance floor. 

“Sure,” you said, smiling up at Heeseung.

Sieun looked between the two of you, and said, “Actually, I’ll join the others. Come dance with us soon, Y/N!” And like that, she was gone, giving you no time to protest. She thought she was being slick, that one.

You and Heeseung chuckled. He got you a red cup and you watched him as he expertly poured different juices and liquors in it. “So, what made you decide to come?” he asked, handing you your drink. You took a sip of it and nodded approvingly.

“I just needed a good party. To let loose, like you said. Plus, who am I to deny an invitation from the great Lee Heeseung?”

Neither of you was sure where all the confidence was coming from. As soon as you’d said that, you looked down at your cup and smiled shyly. Heeseung looked at you curiously, but he couldn’t help but grin as well. You chatted a bit more, drinking one, two, three cups of the heavenly concoction Heeseung made for you. 

“Wanna dance?” he suddenly offered, extending his hand. Right at that moment, you saw Jay enter the house with Jake and Sunghoon. You saw him look around the room until his eyes zeroed in on you and the boy in front of you. Perfect, you thought. You smiled at Heeseung and took his hand, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

Somebody had dimmed down the lights and Lost in the Fire by The Weeknd was playing loudly, creating a sensual atmosphere in the whole room. Your body started swaying to the music, and you were thankful for the alcohol in your system, ridding your mind of any negative or self-conscious thought; you were just enjoying yourself, exactly like you’d wanted to do tonight.

You were getting lost in the music, when a pair of hands on the sides of your waist brought you back to reality. Heeseung got so close to you, you could feel his lips on your ear as they moved to whisper, “Having fun, princess?” 

You nodded fervently, leaning your head back on his shoulder, closing whatever gap there was between your two bodies. His hands traveled from your waist to your hips and you could feel his broad chest against your back as you two moved to the rhythm of the music. From where you were, you had a view of the living room. Jay was sitting there, a girl sitting so close she might as well have been on his lap, but he was staring right at you. You knew never hooked up with random girls at parties, so he had to be doing this to get a reaction out of you. You hated that it worked, that it only made the fire in you burn harder - so as a response, you started grinding your ass against Heeseung.

When the girl actually sat on Jay’s lap, you couldn’t look anymore, so you turned around and put your arms around Heeseung’s neck and faced him. His eyes had glossed over and he was looking at you with a hunger you’d never seen before. Well, that wasn’t true - you’d seen him look at other girls that way, and you always knew what happened after that, but you chased the thought out of your mind, forgetting all about that promise you’d made to yourself of never becoming another one of his drunk fucks. Now that his attention was on you and you only, you felt yourself wanting more. His hands traveled further down your body as he grabbed at your ass, bringing your hips closer to his. He bent down to press wet kisses up your neck until he reached your ear. 

“Wanna take this upstairs?” he asked. It sent shivers down your spine, but you couldn’t tell whether they were good shivers or not. You willed away your hesitation, smiling at him as he took your hand once again, this time leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom. As you walked up the stairs, you scanned the room and sure enough, found Jay sitting on a couch, staring right at you. You thought the beer can in his hand might explode, he was holding it so tight. Feeling you slow down, Heeseung tugged at your hand, and you detached your gaze from Jay’s, trying to drown out the feeling of guilt that was creeping up inside you.

As soon as he’d closed the door behind you, Heeseung wasted no time in pressing you up against the wall and kissing you hungrily. You hadn’t been kissed many times before, and surely not with such energy, but you were sure it was supposed to feel better. Heeseung was in no measure a bad kisser, he seemed to have the technique down to a T and kept a perfect rhythm. But you felt no fireworks, no butterflies, no light-headedness you’d always hoped would come with a good kiss. There was just no passion to it.

After a few minutes of making out, when you were starting to hope he’d get on with it, he said, breath irregular, “What would Jay say if he saw this, huh? Probably hates the idea of me kissing his precious girlfriend, don’t you think?”

The mention of Jay hit you like a ton of bricks. “Wh-what?” you stammered, not letting Heeseung kiss you when he leaned in again.

“Jay? Your boyfriend?” he repeated, looking at you bemusedly.

You chuckled once. Then twice. Then you just started laughing. “Oh, Jay? We’re not actually dating,” you revealed, your filter completely gone because of all the alcohol.

“What?” Heeseung took a sudden step back from you. His confused gaze had turned cold.

“We’re not dating, I said. It’s all fake, it was to make his parents happy,” you explained, yourself confused by Heeseung’s sudden attitude change. 

It was his turn to laugh. “Wow. That’s impressive. You managed to fool me.” His smile dropped. “Now get the fuck out.”

“Excuse me?” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

“You heard me. Get the fuck out. There’s no point in fucking you if you’re not Jay’s girlfriend. You’re just a random loser.”

You stared at him for a few seconds, until you started laughing. It only seemed to make him angry. “What the fuck are you laughing about? I told you to get out.”

You sighed amusedly as if Heeseung was just joking around. “I just think it’s funny that you won’t fuck me because I’m not actually Jay’s girlfriend, when that’s not stopped you from getting with a different girl every single weekend. Whore,” you said, adding that last part in a whisper. You didn’t actually care that Heeseung slept around, not anymore, at least, but you wanted to get a reaction from him after the way he’d treated you.

But perhaps you went too far, because Heeseung’s eyes turned even angrier, and he pushed one of your shoulders harshly, making you almost hit the wall. “I’ll tell you one last time. Get out, you pathetic little bitch.” 

Just at that moment, the door burst open, revealing a very angry Jay. 

“What the fuck did you just call her?” he growled, heading straight for Heeseung and grabbing him by the collar. The other boy didn’t seem fazed, a smile back on his face, as if this whole situation was funny.

“Aw, Jongseong is mad I’m not being nice to his little fake girlfriend?” You guessed Jay must’ve looked confused, because Heeseung continued, “Yeah, she told me. To be fair, I should’ve known even you wouldn’t date a fucking beggar like her.”

You weren’t quick enough to stop Jay from bringing his fist up to Heeseung’s nose. You swore you heard something crack. But as soon as you saw him get ready for another punch, you ran to him and held his arm, shouting, “He’s not worth it, Jay!” and God, you almost wanted him to punch you because of how cliché that had sounded, but you truly thought Heeseung wasn’t worth losing any energy over.

Your voice seemed to make Jay snap out of his fury, and he looked at you, worry written all over his face. However, that only lasted a second, as his expression then shifted to something you’d never seen on his face before, and he grabbed your wrist, leading you out of the room. The commotion had gathered some attention, and you left the house under a bunch of people’s curious looks and chatter.

What was it with men grabbing you and leading you wherever tonight? You were tired of it, so as soon as you’d reached the front yard, you got your wrist out of his grasp, and demanded to know where he thought he was taking you. He grabbed your wrist again, and said, “To my place. We need to talk.” 

The tone in his voice told you it was better not to test him, so you got in his car. Jay was always a safe driver, but this time, he sped through the whole city, even burning some red lights, reaching his apartment on the other side of town in a matter of minutes. You quickly texted your friends your whereabouts so they wouldn’t have to worry. The whole car ride had been silent but you could feel him fuming next to you, and you had no idea what to expect when you entered his apartment.

His place was exactly like you’d imagined it: modern, spacious, and way more organized that any other university student’s flat would be, but also had a lot of personal touches. It was very Jay, and if it hadn’t been for the tension between the two of you, you’d have immediately felt at ease there.

Jay walked through the dark apartment to the kitchen, where he turned on a single light. You followed him, unsure what else to do. He leaned against his hands on the island counter, head hung low, and you went to stand on the other side of the counter, waiting for his next move. When his head snapped up and he peered straight at you, you could barely decipher the look in his eyes, but thought it contained a mixture of jealousy, anger, and… hunger. He’d never looked at you that way before, and his gaze itself created a ball in the pit of your stomach. You told yourself it really wasn’t the moment, but you couldn’t help but feel desperately attracted to him.

“What the fuck were you doing with Heeseung?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

You scoffed. “What the fuck were you doing with that random girl?” 

“I wanted to make you jealous.” He hadn’t hesitated a second before answering, and his confidence destabilized you. You’d guessed that had been his plan, but hearing him say it made you feel weirdly shy. “Now answer me. What the fuck were you doing with Heeseung?” 

You couldn’t hold eye contact anymore, so you looked down at the counter, and replied, “I um, I was drunk, and I… I wanted to make you jealous too, I guess.” You looked back up at him, wanting to gauge his reaction. He was now wearing a smug look, like he’d won something over you. He slowly walked over to your side of the counter, and when he reached you, he put his hands on the counter on each side of you, making you lean back against it. You gulped at the way he towered over you

“And why did you want to make me jealous?” He was so close to you now that when he uttered those words, voice barely over a whisper, you felt his breath fan over your face. As much as you tried to keep eye contact, your gaze fell down to his lips, and you saw him smirk. He caught your chin between his index finger and thumb, nudging your head up. “Eyes up here, doll.”

Your eyes met his again. He was looking at you so intently, you thought your knees might buckle under you. He cocked an eyebrow, patiently waiting for your reply. “Because I…” 

It was so obvious, but you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to say it, or even let yourself think it, before. But it needed to be put out there, once and for all. There was no point in fighting it anymore. “Because I like you, Jongseong.”

To your surprise, his smirk turned into a cheeky grin. It made some of the tension dissipate, but not enough for you to breathe properly again. “I like you too, Y/N.” You sighed out of relief at his words and mirrored his smile. 

“Can I kiss you?” he said, the thumb that had been holding your chin caressing your bottom lip.

“I thought you’d never ask,” you breathed, and he leaned in, your lips meeting delicately. It stayed that way for a few minutes, until the pent-up feelings that had been threatening to come out finally did, and hunger and passion took over the kiss. Jay was kissing you like a man starved, and all you could do was return everything he was giving you. This was nothing like you’d imagined it; it was infinitely better. Talk about fireworks, or butterflies, or light-headedness, you felt like you were on another plane of existence, like a kiss that felt this good and was this freeing wasn’t humanly possible. 

Your hands slipped under his shirt and the sudden contact of your cold hands against his warm skin made him shiver. You were glad to see you had as much effect on him as he had on you. Never breaking the kiss, he led you to his bedroom and sat down on his bed, gesturing for you to straddle his lap. Your dress rode up your calves a little bit, and he used this opportunity to pull it further up until it bundled up around your hips, leaving your lower half almost naked. You could feel how hard he was getting underneath your clothed core, and as the kiss grew needier, you started grinding against him, getting the both of you off. When you heard him groan against your lips, something snapped in you, and you wanted to hear that sound over and over, so you doubled down on your actions. 

His hands, which had been resting on your ass, came up to the nape of your neck, and he grabbed you by the hair, exposing your neck to him. He started pressing down eager kisses along your jawline, throat, and collarbones. When he found a spot in the crook of your neck you particularly liked, he started attacking it like crazy, sucking at the skin and turning you into a moaning mess. One of his hands came to cup your breast and he was very glad to find you were not wearing a bra. Your nipple had hardened through the fabric, and he started playing with it. That, as well the feeling of him in your neck and against your core, was overwhelming, and you felt like you were about to pass out because of how good it all felt. You didn’t know what to do with your hands so you alternated between running them over his arms and tugging at his hair.

As your lips met again, teeth almost clashing because of the intensity, you started unbuttoning his shirt. When it was off, you couldn’t not stare at him. You’d had an idea already, but you still couldn’t believe how toned his arms, chest and abs were. You thought to yourself, God, he’s so hot, and hadn’t realized you’d actually said it out loud until he jokingly said, “Yeah?”, looking up at you with the biggest smile. His hands ran over your calves, your thighs and your ass, sending shivers along the way, and he said, “You’re not too bad yourself, doll.” He kissed you with much more gentleness than before. “In fact, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

You kissed him so he wouldn’t see the blush spreading on your face. He put his hand on your lower back, and guided you down on the bed until you were laying on your back, him hovering over you. He pulled your dress all the way up, helping you get rid of it. You were now left in only panties in front of him, and you would’ve imagined that to be intimidating, but his gaze was truly making you feel like a goddess. Nonetheless, you didn’t want to be the only one naked, so you tucked your fingers under his trousers’ waistband, gesturing for him to take them off. He chuckled but immediately obliged, getting rid of them in a matter of seconds. You had an even better view of his now fully-hard cock, and its size made you gulp. Your mind was quickly off of that, though, as he started trailing kisses all the way down to your breasts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth as his hand came up to the other. Your back arched at the sensation, and you only wanted more, more, more. Your fingers tugged at his hair and you breathed out his name between moans. 

After a few minutes, he traveled further down your body, until he was face to face with your dripping core. He hooked his fingers under your panties, looking up at you and asking you if this was okay. You nodded impatiently and he chuckled at your reaction. How could you be so cute even in this moment? He took your panties off excruciatingly slowly. You wanted to take your time, but you also wanted him where you needed him the most.

You did feel a bit shy when he stared at your sex with the utmost wonder, musing to himself, “So pretty.” He slid a finger between your folds, making you moan in relief and pleasure, and added, “So wet, too.”

You had lifted your body onto your forearms so you could take a good look at him. He peered up at you and, with a small smile, asked gently, “Tell me if it feels good, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, nodding fervently.

Without wasting another second, he licked a stripe up your core, making you moan again, louder this time. He took that as confirmation to go on and continued exploring your pussy with his tongue. You practically screamed out in pleasure when he found your clit, and by the time he started sucking on it, your thighs were shaking like crazy. You didn’t have any strength left in your body and your forearms gave out under you, so you just lied down on your back, fingers still tangled in and pulling his hair. You hadn’t been able to actually tell him it felt good, but you were sure he understood that much.

One of his fingers, and then a second, entered you, filling you up. “Shit, doll, you’re so tight. How are you gonna handle my cock?”

He curled his fingers inside you and they hit a certain spot that made you see stars, and you were coming all over his fingers and tongue in a matter of seconds, screaming out his name and a string of blasphemies. You had to physically lift his head from your core, telling him it was too much, otherwise he would’ve kept going. He gave you a sheepish smile and you couldn’t believe the boy grinning at you was the same one who’d just said and done all those lewd things to you. He pressed a small kiss on your inner thigh, then lay down next to you on the bed, taking in your flushed cheeks and blown-over eyes. He couldn’t believe he got to have you like this, in your most vulnerable state, all to himself. 

When you’d calmed down from your high, you managed to say, “That was amazing, Jay.”

He let out a soft chuckle and kissed your forehead, then trapped your lips with his own. You could taste yourself on his tongue, but you didn’t mind. After a few minutes of lazily making out, you threw your leg over his to position yourself over his hips, and started pressing feather-like kisses down his neck. He’d made you feel so good, and you intended to return the favor.

You felt him sigh at your touch, but before you could go too far down, he stopped you by bringing his hands to both sides of your face, making you look up at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” you immediately asked, worry laced in your voice.

“No, no. God, no, you’re perfect.” he replied. “I just… I still feel so guilty for what I did, and I feel like I don’t deserve you right now.”

“Jay…”

He hid his face in the crook of your neck and held your waist tightly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You’re right, I was being selfish. I should’ve known you wanted that internship, and I knew you wouldn’t get it if my dad thought we were dating, but… I’ve wanted to be with you for such a long time, and when I had the chance to have you, even if it was just pretend, even if it meant lying to you, I couldn’t bring myself to not take that chance. I’m so sorry.”

You had completely forgotten the events of that week, and of that night. Your argument with Jay and Heeseung’s words seemed light-years away. “How long have you liked me?” you couldn’t help but ask. You should’ve been surprised by Jay’s confession, but for some reason, it made sense - what didn’t make sense was how you hadn’t noticed it, or how you’d thought it wasn’t possible that you might like him, too.

“Since we met,” he admitted shyly. “I would’ve told you, but you seemed to enjoy arguing with me so much, I was scared you’d just make fun of me.”

Since you’d met… so, three years? And he’d never said anything? “To be honest, I probably would’ve made fun of you at first,” you agreed light-heartedly. “But I also think it would’ve made me realize what an amazing person you are earlier. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“That’s okay. I would’ve waited my whole life if it meant I could have you at the end.” Butterflies erupted all over your stomach at his words. You kissed him like you’d stop breathing if you didn’t.

Now that Jay had gotten what he wanted to say off his chest, you’d hoped you could continue your previous actions, and started pressing kisses down his neck, but he soon stopped you again.

“I’m getting the feeling you don’t want me to go down on you,” you said, half-joking.

He grinned and closed his eyes, as if fighting himself back. “I do, I promise you, I do.” When he opened his eyes again, they were full of affection. “But we’ve got so much time for that later. I just want to feel you around me right now. Would that be okay?” he asked, voice soft.

Your core pulsed at the thought of Jay inside you, and you nodded, breath growing erratic again. Jay gently lay you on your back, and took off his black boxers so that the two of you were finally completely naked, revealing his throbbing cock. He was right, how were you going to handle it? He rummaged around in his bedside drawer for a condom, and put it on with nervous hands. 

He lined his tip at your entrance, pressing soft kisses all over your face and neck before pushing in as if to get you to relax. He kissed you gently on the lips. “Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop right away.”

He waited for you to nod again, and finally entered you. It immediately stretched you out like never before. The sound of you taking a sharp breath in made Jay stop in his tracks. You wrapped your hands around his biceps for support, then, letting out a deep sigh, told him to go on. He pushed in inch by inch until he finally bottomed out. You both let out a hearty moan at the feeling. It was so perfect.

He didn’t move for a few minutes, letting you adjust to his size. You had your eyes closed and were focused on relaxing, until all at once the pain of the stretch turned into pleasure, and you breathed out, “Please, move.” He obeyed and started rocking in and out of you, making you feel each inch of his length inside you. The sensation was intoxicating. You couldn’t stop any of the moans escaping your throat, and Jay took that as a green light to go gradually faster. Your bodies were moving at the exact same pace and you thought the two of you molded together perfectly, as if this was what you had been meant to do your whole life. His fingers were tightly gripping your hips as he thrusted into you harder and harder, making you moan so loud you were practically screaming in pleasure.

“You feel so fucking good, Y/N,” he said, throwing his head back and letting out a deep moan himself. Your hands roamed all over his body, unable to stay in one place at a time. He suddenly changed the angle of his hips and started hitting that spot inside you he had found earlier with his fingers, making your mind go hay-wire. 

“Fuck, right there, Jay!” you screamed out, as he brought your hips down to his faster than you thought was humanly possible. Soon, you were coming again, and the feeling of you clenching down around him made him shoot his release into the condom. He fell on top of you, unable to carry his weight on his arms anymore. He only had enough strength to pull out and discard the condom, before nestling his head between your breasts. Tiredness seeped through your bones, and you both fell asleep in seconds, completely naked and arms around each other.

Jay woke up a few hours later, a cramp in his arm because of how you were laying down on it - the two of you had apparently switched positions at some point during the night. He softly pulled his arm away, trying not to wake you up. He checked his phone; it was 4:29 a.m. He looked down at you, admiring how soft you looked when you were sleeping. He still couldn’t believe his luck, it all felt like a dream to him. But then you shifted slightly, letting out a small whimper, probably because of a dream, and Jay knew this was happening for sure. He hugged you tightly, breathing in the scent of your hair, and, knowing you were fast asleep, murmured, “I love you.”

—

The sunlight peeking through the curtains and hitting your face softly was what woke you up the next morning. You were relieved to feel Jay’s arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind. You gently turned around, curious about what he looked like in the morning.

As expected, he was perfect.

You observed him for a while until his eyes fluttered open. “Good morning, handsome,” you whispered, pushing away the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

“Good morning,” he replied, smiling sleepily. “Creep.”

Quietly, you gasped dramatically and said, “Is a girl a creep for looking at her boyfriend as he sleeps in the morning?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Boyfriend, huh?” he teased.

You grinned at him. “Yeah.”

“Well,” he said, returning your grin and tightening his grip around your waist, “my girlfriend can look at me all she wants.”

You’d technically been dating Jay for over three months now, but knowing it was finally real and not just pretend made you giddy. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and kissed him there, trying to hide your shy smile. 

He took your head and lifted it to place a delicate kiss on your lips, which you returned like it was second nature. When you pulled away, you jokingly said, “Mh. Morning breath,” but Jay’s eyes opened wide and he immediately put his hand over his mouth, asking, “Seriously?”

You laughed at him and pulled his hands down, going back in for a kiss. It soon escalated, and you were reminded of the fact that neither of you had clothes on when you could feel Jay’s hardness pressing against your thigh. He apologized shyly, but you told him it was fine, and that you’d take care of it. 

This time, when you two made love, it was much slower and light-hearted than the previous night, as if the two of you had finally realized that you had all the time in the world and could enjoy every single second. It was the perfect thing to wake up to.

You two lazied in bed, alternating between slowly making out and daydreaming together, until his stomach rumbled loudly and you really needed to pee. When you joined him in the kitchen, he was heating up waffles on the stove. You hooked your arms around his waist, pressing your chest to his back, and he hummed softly.

“Jay?” you whispered, lips just millimeters away from his ear.

“Yes, doll?”

“I love you too.”

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl (ask to be removed/added!) © asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

[untoldstar]

male yandere! farmer x fem! spoiled city girl reader [Introduction]

lowkey hate this but I still love the concept.

This is based on an ask I got but since it’ll. e jumbled if I put everything in one post I’ll be posting it in parts so as much as it pains me to say this..no yandere shenanigans in this post<:33

You were spending the summer at a farm and you were absolutely dreading it.

You have been living, in your words, the high life but in your fathers words irresponsibly. Going out every night, partying, spending money on stupid things, and it seemed like you were only interested in going to college because of the parties your classmates host. Frankly, your father has had enough of it.

In the middle of his lecture, he had the bright idea to call up an old friend who owns a farm and ask him for a favor, and from the expression on his face you already knew it was something dreadful.

Turns out it was to have you work for him for the summer. To toughen you up a bit. Teach you some responsibility just so you could be a little more mature when you come back (and maybe not turn him penniless like you're about to with the way you're living).

His friend, which you learned his name was Blaze, didn't mind. In fact, he was happy to have an extra set of hands to help around.

Naturally, you threw a fit. You tried every trick in the book you even gave your best puppy eyes and promised not to spend too much money anymore, you would even stop going to so many parties!

Nonetheless..you ended up packing your bags when the day came.

You slammed the passenger door shut and made your way to the cars trunk to get your bags. You could hear both men exchange warm welcomes and rave over how long it's been.

You roll your eyes. A little more and they'll be going down memory lane over coffee.

Your father turns to you when you make it to his side, his face still pleasantly beaming. It was honestly freaking you out "Ah! honey, say hello to my friend, Blaze. He'll take good care of you here." You offer him a tight-lipped smile and shake his hand. You immediately remove yourself from the conversation as your eyes take in the scenery. A large field you can't even tell where it ends. Within it, a house is close to where you're all standing, not small, not too big while the barn is a little further away. You also see a dark blue truck parked close by. You don't see any of the animals yet. He must have animals right? You wince as you think of dealing with their waste.

And the heat. The heat. You have a small tube top and shorts on which would be lovely back in your city but here it does absolutely nothing to help with the intense heat.

Too distracted by your torment, you don't notice Blaze's eyes glancing in your direction every few seconds as he talks to your father taking in every detail of you. Smooth skin, soft hair, delicate hands that haven't worked a day in their life. He honestly doesn't think you'll last a day.

"Well! I'll be off then." You snap out of your daze "Oh. Okay then." You reply curtly. You're being petty and you don't care "Come now don't have that look on your face, lighten up will you? Don't give Blaze too much trouble" with that he makes his way to the car and you almost tear up watching him drive off.

Blaze clears his throat "Here let me help you with your stuff." He leads the way to his house and already you can tell how awkward this is going to be "I take it you're not familiar with working in a farm?" you only offer a small shake of your head "That shouldn't be a problem, you know I didn't wake up one day and decided to milk a cow. I had to learn and work every day...Not just that but everything else, of course." He clears his throat and you giggle. His shoulders relax a bit upon the sounds. You too enter his house and he sets your luggage down "Right, let me give you a tour, yeah?"

He leads you throughout the entire house, which doesn't take long considering its size, he leaves your room for last "This is where you'll be sleeping, this room doesn't have a lock yet but if you want I can install one for ya." you only nod and head inside and shut the door behind you.

What the fuck?

Blaze blinks then huffs knocking on the door "Hey uh- If you're tired from the trip we can start tomorrow at dawn" He looks down as he patiently waits for your response "Yeah that would be great!" He sighs. He doubts you had plans to start today anyway.

Blaze finally walks away from your door rubbing his neck 'Lets hope this runs by smoothly..'

Turns out, he had..a few things to worry about.

The first day was a pain, for both of you, but he'd argue it was more of a pain for him.

"You do it!"

"I'm supposed to be teaching you." he replies gruffly

"What if she bites my hand off?"

"She's a horse you're not feeding a lion- look just put the carrot closer to her mouth." he guides your hand closer and his heart skips a beat. So soft. Your hands were so soft-

He clears his throat "There, it'll just start eating it, it's fine if a little dribble gets on your hand." You grimace and he clicks his tongue "Oi, stop being a brat, a little drool is the least you should be worried about while working here." You whine "Can I just be in charge of feeding Stella here instead?" He crosses his arms "No can do sweetheart." You only pout and continue feeding the horse not noticing how the corners of Blaze's mouth lift slightly.

You kept running off from your chores to play with Clyde (his dog) and of course, he was chasing you around like a babysitter trying to get you to finish your work.

It was truly a nightmare when you had to clean after the animals. You were gagging, whining, he was honestly convinced you were going to start bawling at that point it was quite amusing.

After that, it seemed you were a bit desensitized from that experience and you were managing the rest of the chores with few complaints but for your sake, he won't mention how he heard you cussing out your father while you were cleaning the barn.

When you were finally done with everything the sun was beginning to set. You wanted more than anything to fall face-first into your bed but you stunk and you desperately needed a shower.

When you're done you open the door only to bump into Blaze "Oh, sorry.' You squeeze past him and continue your way to your room not noticing the shade of red Blaze's face turned in your wake.

His pants tighten and the scent of your shampoo and body wash wafting from the bathroom doesn't help.

Yeah..a few things he has to worry about

[3rachaslut]

SMUT ! MINORS DNI ! dom!changbin X sub!reader femme

cw: slapping, degradation, pet names (slut, whore etc), rough, choking, jealousy, dom/sub dynamic

this has been sat in my drafts for about 8 months lol (i’ve proof read about 4 times but i got bored so i’m sorry for any mistakes there may be)

EVERYTHING WRITEN IS CONSENSUAL ON BOTH PARTS

It was 11:45pm and you, Changbin, Chan and Jisung had been in the studio since 6:30pm. Mumbles could be heard in front of you, although you wasn’t really listening, sipping on your iced coffee to keep you awake. You never was any help work wise in the studio but your boyfriend Changbin and the boys loved having you around and you loved it too.

“Y/n” Jisung called over to you and you whipped your head to look at him. “Listen to this bridge, what do you think is missing?”. You made your way towards him, taking the headphones and sitting gently on his knee. Changbin shot daggers in yours and Jisung’s direction. His glare on the both of you caused a smirk to tug on your lips, although jisung didn’t notice.

You readjust yourself, grabbing onto the sides of the chair, lifting yourself up and gently back down onto his lap again. You listen to the recording, feigning innocence as you slowly push yourself backwards into Jisung’s lap, causing him to cough and attempting to hide the slight moan he just let out. You spin idly side to side on the chair and the friction from you moving over his crotch was causing a reaction from Jisung and you felt it straight away. You smirk as you turn your head from the recording to face Jisung and rais your eyebrows. He taps either side of your waist twice, indicating you to get off his lap. He clears his throat. “Sorry guys, I’ll be right back, I just need to use the bathroom. Two seconds”. He quickly walks out of the studio, praying his friends didn’t notice the tent forming in his joggers.

You briefly look Changbin’s way and his death glare on Jisung never left his eyes, only when he was out the door to the studio did he tilt his head to look at you. You shrug in faux confusion as he looks at you with narrow eyes, causing a sly smile to form on your lips.

“Okay so.. any ideas y/n?” Chan asks, looking at you with tired eyes and Changbin interjects. “Chan hyung, we’ve been at this for hours! I say we go home, get some rest and come back to it tomorrow with a clear mind”.

“Yeah okay, let’s call it a night” Chan begins to pack his stuff and you feel Changbin’s threatening eyes back on you. You make your way to the sofa and sip on your iced coffee, pulling out your phone.

“Night guys, I’ll text Ji and let him know we’re heading home so don’t wait up for him” Chan says, walking out the studio, leaving you and your boyfriend alone. Changbin barely waits until the door was closed until he shoots up off his chair and marches over to you. Hearing his footsteps getting closer, a smirk makes its way on your lips.

“What the fuck was that y/n?!” He spits out as his form towers over you and his fierce aura makes you shift slightly in your seat.

“What?” You ask, faking innocence and still staring at your phone. “I don’t know what you mean”. You shake your head in confusion as you continue to look down, too scared to look at him.

“Don’t play fucking dumb y/n! You know exactly what you did! Acting like that much of a whore around my bandmates that Ji had to excuse himself. Fucking slut” He says with narrow eyes and a feigned disgusted look on his face.

“I’m talking to you y/n..” Changbin says sternly, grabbing your chin and forces you to look at him. “When I talk to you, you fucking look. at. me.” He emphasises his words with a slap across the face, causing you to whimper slightly at the sudden pain but you couldn’t ignore the way your clit throbbed from the sting on your cheek. You giggle at him, the brat in you loving this. He shakes his head at you in disapproval.

“Slut” he says, throwing you backwards onto the sofa. He towers over you and puts his hand around your throat, adding just enough pressure for you to let out a strained moan.

“Stupid girl… you would have thought you’d know better by now..” Your eyes rapidly scan his face sensing a ‘punishment’ was incoming, although Changbin’s punishments only ever had you internally begging for more.

Changbin roughly grabs both your legs and practically throws you sideways so you are lying down on the sofa. He yanks your skirt up towards your tummy and rips your panties off, tossing them somewhere onto the floor.

“We won’t be needing them, will we doll?” He says with a chuckle. He forcefully parts your legs so your were spread out right in front of him, your breath hitching at the sudden air against your clit. You look away from him in shame at being so exposed when your boyfriend was still fully clothed.

“Such a pretty pussy” Changbin coos whilst his fingers brush over your sensitive clit, rubbing small circles and making you writhe in pleasure.

“Let’s see how red I can make it baby, hmm?” He laughs as your eyes widen, already knowing the punishment you were about to receive. His words were quickly followed by a firm slap to your pussy, making your whole body jolt. You let out a gasp from the sudden, intense stimulation. Changbin was always so brutal with this specific punishment, so you certainly knew the pain and pleasure you was about to endure.

“’m sorry sir! Didn’t mean to! I’ll be good!” you frantically beg. Changbin laughs and quickly dismisses your pleas by delivering another harsh slap to your pussy and you squirm underneath him. Your face contorts from the torment and you moan loudly.

“Not so fucking bold now, are you little girl?” He says with a sadistic look on his face, teasingly rubbing over your sensitive clit making you whine. “I expected you to know what happens when you act like a whore around my friends baby but clearly you don’t listen” He delivered a particularly harsh slap to your pussy that elicited a loud moan from you, practically verging on a scream.

“FUCK” you cry out as tears begin to fall from your eyes. You throw your head back in fear of the next slap you were about to receive.

“Language baby” Changbin shakes his head in disapproval and raises his hand again. You flinch and squeeze your eyes as you lay in expectation of the next blow. But it never came. Confused, you lift your head off the sofa armrest and saw Changbin staring at you with a mischievous grin.

“Aw… cute” He says smirking. Another slap landed on your sensitive pussy and you squeak in pain.

“You love this don’t you? Fucking whore” He says, a look of faux disgust on his face.

“No ssir… h- ’hurtss” you whimper, panting in between words as you try to catch your breath.

“Really? Are you sure?” He takes two fingers and eagerly thrusts them into your soaked cunt, making you gasp at the intrusion then moan in pleasure. “Because your pussy is telling me you’re lying darling” He slowly speeds up his movements in your cunt and your mouth falls open as he starts to curl his fingers inside you. Your legs begin to lift upwards and close together in an attempt to make his fingers go deeper inside you. You begin to writhe in your spot, moaning uncontrollably.

“Legs” Changbin barks, instructing you to keep your legs open wide and low.

You groan in frustration and your legs began to tremble involuntary as you whine from the pleasure.

“Such a naughty girl... You’re dripping all over my fingers from getting your little pussy abused.” He laughs. “What a fucking slut” He emphasises the last word with another brutal slap to your clit that was now pulsing more than ever. You cry out and your legs automatically close together from the sudden pain.

“Y/n I swear to god, if you don’t keep those fucking legs spread, I’ll take this belt off and whip that little clit with it so hard over and over again, you’ll be sobbing for hours. Now.. keep those legs OPEN!” You flinch at his raised voice and he grips your knee with his hand, pushing it down towards the sofa.

You squirm in place as you try your best to keep your legs spread however, you feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach and you know you’re close to squirting.

“Sir! M’ close!” you yell out, your eyes scrunching together. Changbin didn’t say a word back to you instead, his fingers speeding up inside your pussy. He smirks at the scene if front of him, admiring the state he’s put you in. He takes his fingers from his unoccupied hand and rubs little circles on your clit, smirking at the scene of your body writhing underneath him.

“oh, FUCK. Bin i’m gonna come”.

“Beg.” he instructs and you do. You want nothing more than to come undone underneath him and you were prepared to throw away all your dignity right now to get it.

“Please! Please let me come! I’ll be so good, i won’t flirt with your friends anymore- ah! Ever again just please! Fuck- please let me c- cu-“ Your body is jolting uncontrollably and you’re sure you looked a state. Changbin brings his face just inches away from yours, tantalising close.

“Come for me baby” He whispers.

You scream out a thank you as you squirted over his hand, your chest heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath.

“Oh baby, you made a mess all over my hand. What do you say?” He tuts, eyebrows raised.

“Sorry I made a mess sir” you say pouting.

“And?”

“Thank you for making me cum sir”

“Good girl” He says approvingly, kissing you and grabbing your panties from the floor beside you and wiping his hand clean with them. He cups your face with his hand and rubs at your cheek.

“My beautiful girl.. I’m so proud of you. Come here” He brings you into a warm hug and you melt into his arms, smiling. As much as you loved Changbin’s punishments, you also loved his affectionate aftercare that followed, making sure you’re okay.

“I knew flirting with your friends would get me in trouble. Clearly my plan worked..” You chuckle into his chest.

“Such a brat.” He smiles and shakes his head. “Are you okay? That wasn’t too much?”

“Binnie, it was amazing!” He lifts your face to look at him and brings you into a gentle kiss, pecking your lips over and over again.

“Come on baby, let’s go home”

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Jan behind the cut; "YJ packs up and gets pupped". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon feels like an idiot, but he’s fucking embarrassed. He’s going into heat and–and–Superman knew he was presenting, yeah, but it wasn’t, like–it wasn’t this far along, and he doesn’t know if Superman knew what he was presenting as, because– 

But he definitely, definitely smells like an omega now. And he doesn’t even know if the Super-Cycle can tell about that kind of thing or even has a way to register anyone’s scent or pheromones at all, but . . . but it’s still embarrassing, being around somebody else when he’s–when he’s like that for the first time. Being . . . being an omega around somebody else for the first time. Even if the Super-Cycle can’t tell or can’t talk about it or . . . 

“Uh,” Kon tries, and swallows roughly, feeling his face burn as he tries to hide his weird scavenged mishmash of nesting stuff behind his back, suddenly embarrassed by it too. The Super-Cycle beeps at him, wriggling its back again. It’s–excited, he thinks, so maybe it thinks there’s an adventure or a mission to go on or maybe it’s just happy to see one of them when it wasn’t expecting to, maybe, but–but he doesn’t– 

It’s just–embarrassing. 

“Uh,” he tries again, digging his fingers into his nesting stuff where it’s all bunched-up behind his back. “Hey, man, do you . . . do you know if . . .” 

He swallows, and the Super-Cycle tilts to one side with a maybe-questioning little trill of its horn. 

“IneedsomeofRob’sblockers,” Kon blurts, and his face burns. “I–I–do you know if he–if he left any in–in any–” 

It’s not gonna answer him. It doesn’t even understand the stupid question, probably. It’s just gonna realize he’s not here to take it on a joyride and get bored and–and leave, and–and– 

Kon grits his teeth and doesn’t cry about the idea of the damn bike ditching him. He’s not–he’s not that pathetic. He’s just–not. 

He definitely is. 

“Sorry,” he manages. “Sorry, I–I just–didn’t mean to, like–” 

The Super-Cycle trills again, its headlights flashing a few times, and then rolls up to him and makes–a weird noise, suddenly. Kind of a . . . pop, almost, coming from the console and . . . 

Oh, Kon realizes, and feels his eyes dilate. 

He bolts into the driver’s seat and leans down over the console, and there’s a sort of–like, a hidden little . . . glove compartment kind of thing, almost, and it’s popped open. Inside it there’s a neat, careful little row of stuff that’s either recognizably Robin’s or generic to a fault, and tucked in at the very end of the neat little row of stuff, there’s four flat packs of scent blockers all sealed up in matte black foil wrappers. 

Kon snatches up all four of them and tears one of them open in his teeth so he doesn’t have to put down any of his nesting stuff, and gets an immediate noseful of the same neutral, barely-there blocker scent that means Robin in his head. And then, like–and then he does cry again, kind of, but it’s relief again, because–because that means– 

That’s all of them, he thinks, crumpling up the unwrapped blocker in his fist so the scent spreads out a little more, and feels so much better. And Robin’s blockers last for, like, for-fucking-ever, so . . . 

Kon sniffles a few more times, and then curls up around his collected little pile of stuff–Cassie’s shirt and Cissie’s towel and Suzie’s blanket and Bart’s weird cowboy outfit and Robin’s blockers–and sort of . . . shudders, kinda, feeling all shaky and overwhelmed and relieved. 

“Thanks,” he manages to choke out, and then cries some more. The Super-Cycle trills in concern, and he feels the driver’s seat adjust a little bit under and around him, like it’s trying to–like it’s trying to fit him better, maybe. 

Almost like the Super-Cycle’s trying to figure out how to hug him, kind of, though Kon doesn’t know if that’s actually what it’s thinking. 

He squeezes himself tight with his TTK, because that–that helps a little, still, and makes him feel like . . . makes him feel a little more . . . 

The Super-Cycle doesn’t usually get scent-scrubbed, so it smells a bit like everybody too. Not as much as his nesting stuff does, but–definitely it still smells like them. 

That’s–it helps, kinda. The base doesn’t smell like anybody at all, just all–empty and neutral and . . . like, it smells like him a little now, probably, but . . . but that just makes him feel even more stray than he already knows he is, and the Super-Cycle smelling like everyone else is–is really–

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Too Old

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Synopsis: Dean confronts you about a strange habit, and you have to confess something to him.

Author’s note: hey guys! Currently obsessed with supernatural (I’m very late to the fandom, and just about done the first season), so I took a tiny break from my Sherlock series to write this! Maybe there’ll be more Winchesters in the future, we’ll see!

“Y/N, why is your stupid dog on my bed again?”

You returned from the measly motel breakfast only to find Dean glaring at you, holding your stuffed dog with two fingers like it was made of acid. You bounded forward, snatching it up out of his hands.

“Gee I don’t know, why are you stealing him?” You hugged the animal to your chest, a feigned innocent expression on your face as you looked up at your big brother. At Sam’s light chuckle, you dropped the expression and giggled, punching Dean playfully on the arm when his glare hardened. “Aw c’mon, you gotta admit that was kinda funny.”

Dean only rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, hilarious. Seriously though, keep the dog on your own bed.”

You scoffed.

“What bed?”

Every motel you went to, your big brothers instantly claimed the two beds, leaving you with the fold out couch. Every. Time.

Dean quirked his eyebrow, staring down at you.

“Someone’s feeling sassy this morning.”

You ignored him, turning around to stuff your dog in your backpack and double-checking that you had everything packed. Dean turned his back on you to do the same, tossing over his shoulder-

“Aren’t you a little old for that stuffed dog anyway?”

Your hands stilled, nearly dropping your bag before you regained your composure quickly before your brothers noticed.

“Nope, I don’t care what you say,” gosh, if only that were true, “I’m not tossing him out.”

Dean just scoffed and, you assumed, rolled his eyes.

“Alright, whatever. Hurry up, I wanna get out of here.”

Not twenty minutes later, you were on the road again, another days-long drive ahead of you. When darkness fell and the moon arose, you dug around in one of the bags for a blanket, pulling out your dog with it and cuddling up in the back for some rest. You pressed the soft fur of the stuffed animal up against your face, breathing in its calming scent contentedly.

“You alright back there?” Dean’s gruff voice broke the silence, and you mumbled a positive response as you shifted, trying to get comfortable enough to get to sleep.

…

Two days later, the pattern started over again. Checking into a motel for the night, the fold-out couch, the small bag by your side filled with only the necessities–you weren’t staying long. You never did. And that was fine, just fine.

What wasn’t fine was the next step in the pattern. You awoke in the middle of the night, the back of your neck and your forehead drenched in sweat, your breathing labored. Another nightmare, stupid, stupid nightmare, of yet another stupid, stupid monster attacking you. Was it a monster? Maybe it was a demon tonight. Not that it mattered, you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again either way. You hugged your stuffed dog to your chest and tried to breathe in its scent, before you remembered that you had washed it with the blankets as soon as you’d gotten to the motel.

Sighing in annoyance, you stood with the dog in hand, tip toeing over to Dean’s bed before hesitating. Would he get mad? Would he be suspicious about finding the animal in his bed again? No, you wouldn’t let him, you’d just have to get up before he did in the morning and take it back before he noticed. He couldn’t figure it out, he just couldn’t. You’d die of embarrassment if your big brother ever found out the real reason that he kept finding your dog in his bed.

You’d just have to be more careful next time.

…

Despite your surety that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again after the nightmare, after hours of tossing and turning, trying to rid yourself of the demons that haunted your dreams, you finally fell asleep. Unfortunately, because it took you so long to fall asleep, you didn’t wake up before your brothers in the morning, as you usually did.

“Y/N,” a voice cut through your sleep just as a hand shook your arm, “Y/N c’mon, time to get ready.”

You groaned, rolling over and blinking up to see Dean hovering above you, just before something dropped onto your head. You grabbed at it with your hand, and pulled it away enough to look at it. When you saw what it was, your stomach dropped.

Your dog. You’d left it in Dean’s bed again, and you hadn’t gotten up to retrieve it.

Dean was frowning at you, “That thing was in my bed again. Why do you keep putting it there? I know it’s not getting there on its own, and I know that Sam’s not determined enough in pranking me to lose precious minutes of sleep just to put this darn thing in my bed.”

You shook your head groggily, trying desperately to hide both your guilty look and your embarrassment as you shoved the animal into your bag.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean. I didn’t do that.”

Dean grabbed your arm and turned you to face him.

“Come on, don’t give me that, I know when you’re lying,” He sighed. “Look, you’re not in trouble or anything, I’m not mad. It’s not that big of a deal, I just can’t figure out why you’re doing it.”

You shook your head.

“Dean, I mean it, I’m not-”

“Hey!”

Dean’s sudden change in tone made you flinch. You hadn’t expected him to get so persistent about something so small, but you should’ve known him better than that. He never let anything go.

“I told you, I’m not mad. I just want to know. C’mon, you can tell me anything.”

You weren’t so sure about that, but you also knew that Dean wouldn’t drop this no matter what you said. You figured you might as well get it over with now, with Sam out–probably getting coffee. The less people who had to hear your confession, the better.

“It smells like you,” You kept your voice so quiet, you almost hoped Dean hadn’t heard you.

“What?”

Ok, that backfired. Now you wished he had heard you, so you didn’t have to repeat it.

“When I leave it on your-on your bed. It smells like you.”

Dean was frowning at you now, curiosity covering his features.

“I don’t understand.”

You cleared your throat, blinking rapidly and trying desperately to look anywhere in the room but at Dean’s face.

“I leave it on your bed, because then it smells like your cologne. It-it’s a nice smell, it helps me sleep.”

Dean was trying desperately to catch your eye, but you wouldn’t let him.

“Ok,” Dean said slowly, thinking through your explanation. “You could’ve just sprayed my cologne on it, I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

You huffed in frustration, your cheeks growing more flushed with embarrassment by the second.

“It’s not just-just your cologne. It’s like this mix of your cologne and shampoo and-” you stopped your rambling, too embarrassed to go on. “Look, just forget it, ok? If it really bugs you so much, I can stop.” You swallowed hard, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t tell you to stop. You were having a hard enough time sleeping as it was, you weren’t sure how well you would do if Dean made you stop your little routine.

Dean shook his head.

“No, no it doesn’t bug me. I just don’t get it.”

Your lip was quivering now, and the longer Dean penetrated you with his stare the more you felt like crying.

“It’s just…it reminds me of-of when you used to let me sleep in your bed. When I was having a nightmare,” your breath caught when you felt a tear trailing down your cheek. You really didn’t want to cry in front of Dean, but his gentle, yet firm grip on your arm told you that you wouldn’t get out of this conversation easily. “But since you said I’m to-too old for that, I figured this might be ok.”

Dean was frowning again, and you couldn’t help but notice the alarm on his face when he saw your tears.

“Hey now, when did I say that?”

You bit your lip to keep it from trembling, flitting your eyes upward so that you didn’t have to look Dean in the eye.

“U-um, maybe a couple months ago? When I tried to,” you choked on the lump in your throat, but forced yourself to keep going, “When I tried to get in your bed one night, you tol-told me to go back to my own bed, because I was too–I was too old to sleep in your bed.”

Dean’s brows scrunched together, and a sigh escaped his lips as he tried again to catch your eye.

“I don’t remember that.”

A sound that sounded half laugh, half sob escaped your throat, and you ducked your head in shame.

“I do.”

You felt Dean’s strong arms wrap around your shoulders, and before you knew it his hand was at the back of your head, pushing your face against the soft fabric of his shirt as his other hand rubbed your back.

“I don’t remember…baby, I didn’t mean it. You can come to me whenever you need to, ok?”

You sniffled, wincing when you saw you were getting tears all over his shirt.

“I don’t need to…I shouldn’t…Dean you’re right, I’m too old to-”

“No,” Dean’s voice was firm, and he pulled away from you just enough to try to look into your eyes. But you wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Look at me.”

Slowly, reluctantly, you let your eyes stray to his, and you saw resolve hardening his gaze. But there was a softness there too, a tenderness that only you, his baby sister, got to see.

“You’re never gonna be too old to need me, ok? I’m always gonna be here for you, I promise.” Dean sighed, and when his gaze wandered below your eyes you knew he was seeing the dark circles planted there. “You’ve been having nightmares, right? That’s why you wanted to sleep in my bed?”

You nodded, your head again ducking in shame. Dean’s strong fingers gripped your chin, lifting your head up so you were forced to meet his gaze.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not gonna let you go through those alone, ok? Next time you have one, I want you to come straight to me, understand?”

There was something comforting about Dean’s commanding tone. If he had been only reassuring, you would’ve perhaps felt that he was just trying to be nice. But his “soldier tone”, his ordering you to come to him, made you feel less like you were bothering him, and more like you were following an order, something that you knew made him happy.

You snapped a sarcastic salute, and even though he tried to hide it, you saw the corners of his lips turn up slightly at your action before he maintained a more serious expression.

“Alright, alright, you little smart-alek,” He pulled you into his arms again and stood, holding you off the ground and making you giggle, before he dropped you to the floor and clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Go get your stuff, ok? We’ve got about a thirteen-hour drive ahead of us before we reach where we’re going.”

Just as you turned to grab your bag, Dean gripped your shoulder a little tighter and leaned down to look at you.

“Hey, when we get there tonight, I want you to come to me if you can’t sleep, ok? Promise me.”

You smiled widely at your big brother, and lunged forward to wrap him in a hug.

“Promise.”

[howlett-variants]

"I've got you"

a/n: I love Charlie Kenton sm, he deserves more love. Also, I haven't written an X reader fic in like 10 years forgive me.

Prompt: Charlie gets his ass kicked, thankfully he has you to patch him up! Words: 2,975 Tags: gn!reader, post movie, hurt/comfort, Charlie is very dog coded to me and I don't know how to tag things anymore

You could have never guessed your day to go like this. Work had been boring as all hell. The only thing keeping you going was the thought of getting to hang out with those you cared about most over at Tallets Gym. Bailey was basically your closest friend at this point. She was kind and caring but could always match your energy- especially if that energy was being angry with Charlie. Speaking of Charlie, seeing him was always one of the best parts of your day. Even when he was being an idiot, or impulsive, or both- he always knew how to put a smile on your face. Which was much needed after a boring day at work. You even looked forward to seeing Max most days. The kid was the spitting image of his father when it came to personality, which definitely had its downsides. Max was probably the most independent eleven-year-old you’ve ever met- he was always determined to do stuff by himself. Even if he ended up asking you or Bailey for help in the end. Things were never boring with the Kentons. 

Today would be no exception.

Your phone rang mere moments before you were about to park in front of the rundown gym.

“Hel-” You started, but were quickly cut off by the sound of your good friend Bailey in a panic.

“Charlies hurt.” “What?” “Max just called, and he’s freaking out-” You could hear her voice quicken on the other end. 

“Slow down Bail, where are they?” “Some gas station twenty minutes outside of town, they were on their way back from a fight and-” She gave you a few more vague responses, clearly not sure of the situation herself, but that was okay. You could work with that. There weren’t that many gas stations on that side of town, plus it would be hard to miss Charlie’s massive green truck. 

–

Ten minutes, and a few potential road laws broken, later- you finally spotted the truck. You pulled up next to them, attempting to not fully slam on your brakes. Your panic had slowly grown over the last few moments, and panicked driving is not a good idea. 

Tossing the door open in a quick motion, you stepped out and ran over to see Charlie sitting on the tailgate of his truck. Max was next to him, holding a makeshift ice pack to his face. 

“How’s he doing?” You plant your feet in front of them, doing your best to keep your arms at your side to not fret over him. At the sound of your voice, Max looked over with a smile. Charlie attempted to look at you, but winces the moment he tried to open his eyes.

“I’m fine- just a black eye.” Charlie replied weakly, still unable to fully open his eyes. 

“He might need stitches this time.” Max’s smile fades, returning to a worried expression. 

“Let me see.” Max nods before jumping off of the tailgate, making room for you to take his place. You carefully move to sit next to him, close enough for your legs to touch. You reach a hand up to his face, slowly peeling away the ice pack. It took everything in you to not visibly tense at the rather nasty wound on his face. Whoever beat him up this time actually used a weapon, brass knuckles, if you’d have to guess. He had a large gash right next to his eyebrow, reaching almost to his ear, as well as a black eye and numerous other bruises all over his neck. You can only imagine the amount of bruises he was hiding on the skin you couldn’t see. “Yeah…that’s going to scar. Where’s your first aid kit?”

“Don’t have one…” He mumbled.

“Come again?” You can’t help but sigh, “With how much you get beat up-”

He avoids your glare and refuses to respond, which is Charlie for ‘You’re right, but I will not admit it’. With a slight roll of your eye, you reach into your back pocket with your free hand and take out your wallet to hand to Max. “They should have bandages, or at least some cotton balls I can use to stop the bleeding. Grab what you can- if nothing else, your dad can save it for later.”

The kid nodded as he took your wallet before running back into the gas station. It probably wasn’t your smartest idea to just hand your wallet to an eleven-year-old, but you knew Max would at least grab what you asked- even if he came back with a few extra snacks.

Seconds after he left your eye-line, you heard Charlie suck in a sharp breath. The sound caused your full attention to turn back to the man next to you. He was no longer sitting upright, but instead leaning on the side of the truck as if the metal wall was the only thing holding him upright. You were quick to notice the stiffness in his shoulders was far worse than a few seconds ago, and you didn’t have to ask why to know what was going on in his head. 

“Char, the kid just watched you get your ass kicked- again. You don’t have to act all tough. Hell your face is bleeding like some kind of horror movie victim. He knows that you’re not alright.” It broke your heart to see him like this. He was always putting on a front of the big strong unfeeling douchebag, but you knew better. You also knew better than to question it. Max was a strong kid, but he was still just a child. No kid should have to watch this dad getting beat up as much as Charlie did. You moved your hand from his face to his shoulder, using your thumb to rub soothing motions in a small attempt to comfort him. 

“How’d you get here so fast?” He questioned, completely avoiding your concerned comments.

“Max called Bailey. Bailey called me. Here I am.” You moved your free hand up to his face, attempting to inspect the wound a bit more. Fingers lightly holding his chin, making it easier for you to move his head if needed. He couldn’t help but lean into the small touches. “I think I still have some pizza in the car. It’ll be cold by now though.”

He let out a light chuckle, mouth struggling to turn into a smile without pain. “Maybe when my face is done bleedin’ out.”

You smile at him, grateful to hear that his sense of humor was still intact. The moment he winces again, your smile falls. “What the hell happened?”

“Just some assholes that I used to owe money to, what else-” He pouts, “I would have been able to our run em but-”

“Max…”

He didn’t have to even look at you for you to understand what he meant. From what Bailey had told you in the past, getting his ass kicked out of the ring was nothing new for Charlie. He was constantly coming back to the gym with cuts and bruises, and the occasional broken bone, but ever since he regained custody of his son, he’s tried to be a lot more careful. He had always been reckless and almost uncaring when it came to what happened to him, but now he had someone to protect. Thankfully, the Atom fights had helped pay off practically every debt he had ever owed, but there were still some people who had it out for him that couldn’t give less of a shit if his son was watching or not. 

The hand on his face slowly moved to the back of his neck, before you carefully pulled him closer to you. You positioned his head to rest comfortably on your shoulder. Your other arm snaked around his back, holding him in a secure hug. “It’s okay…I’ve got you.”

Your hushed tone was all he needed to melt completely into your hold. His face hid in the crook of your neck, like it was the only thing keeping him in one piece. His arms found their way around you, holding onto the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline. Charlie Kenton was many things. He was a boxer who had seen his fair share of violence, as well as a man who routinely went to shady places for robot fights, but he was also a father who had no idea what he was doing. To him, there was nothing more terrifying than the idea of his son watching him bleed out (and potentially die). Whoever had attacked him this time didn’t hold back. He honestly didn’t know if he was going to make it out in one piece. 

He was in pain and scared shitless, but you were there. You kept him grounded, like you always knew what to do or say to keep his anxieties at bay. You were his rock, and he was yours. The two of you had this unspoken thing that not even Bailey dared to bring up to either of you. You could feel your shoulder becoming damn, from both tears and the blood from his wound- but you didn’t care. The stains would come out, and even if you ended up having to throw the shirt away, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the man quietly sobbing in your arms. 

He would never admit it, but Charlie cried a lot. Never in front of you or anyone else, but you’d always catch him silently crying to himself in the middle of the night. You knew that Bailey and Max were aware, but all three of you knew better than to mention it to him. Anytime that you gathered the nerve to ask him if he was alright in the middle of his crying session, he’d just yell at you to go away. You knew he never meant to actually yell at you. Normally he’d even apologize the next morning with a vague ‘sorry about last night’ while avoiding any actual questions about whatever he had been upset about. But right now, he didn’t care. There was nothing he needed more than you. 

—

Time passed by in a small blur. The only sound you could hear was Charlie’s heavy breathing finally beginning to regulate itself to the sound of your light humming. His arms were still wrapped around you, but the grip on your shirt had loosened. You still had one arm around his back, the other had found its way to his hair- playing with the short brown strands. 

“I got some stuff!” Max’s sudden voice startled you both. You turned your head in his direction to see that his hands were filled with an assortment of bandaid boxes, a bag of cotton balls, and a few snacks that he bought with your money (which you fully expected would happen). Charlie’s body went stiff under your arm at the sound of his son’s voice, embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable state. “This is all they had.”

“Thanks kiddo,” you smiled at him. The arm around Charlie’s middle let go, so you could reach out for the ‘medical’ supplies. He silently mourned the loss of the touch the second you let go. You placed the items next to you before your gaze returned to Max. “Why don’t you sit up front and update Bailey, tell her we’ll be back in a little bit. I’ll get to work patching up your dad’s apparently very punchable face.”

It was a poor attempt at a joke, but Max still smiled. Charlie made a mental note to thank you later for the small attempt at saving what was left of his pride. Thankfully, Max obliged and left to go sit in the front seat, giving you two a bit of privacy.

Using both your hands, you carefully lifted his head off of your shoulder. He made a small noise of disappointment as you pulled him from his safe spot. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. You held his face in between your palms as you examined his face one more time. His eyes were a little swollen from the crying, and he looked like he was about to fall asleep. The adrenaline must have finally worn off. 

“Okay, I’ll do what I can, but I’m taking you to actually get this checked out first thing in the morning.”

“Fine by me.” his words were beginning to slur together. Something told you that you’d be the one driving the truck back to town tonight. It would be safer to leave your old car than the massive truck holding one of the most popular boxing robots at the moment. 

Your humming continued as you cleaned up the drying blood from his cheek. There was only so much you could do with the limited items (and skill) you had, but you stayed focused. With the bleeding stopped and wiped away, the wound wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. It would still leave a nasty scar, but it was small enough that a trip to an actual medical professional could wait. As you worked, you could feel Charlie’s head become heavy in your hands.

“You falling asleep on me?” You teased lightly.

“mmmno.” It was more of a noise than an actual word. 

“Almost done, big guy. Then you’re welcome to crash on your little cot back there.” Between the warmth of your hands, the soft touches, and your quiet humming as you worked- Charlie was practically melting. Bailey and you liked to joke that he was like a dog sometimes, from the bursts of impulsive energy, to the unapologetic joy over the smallest things, and of course his mastery of the ‘puppy dog eyes’ that he often used on you and Bailey to get what he wanted. He would always scoff or roll his eyes whenever you would tease him or whenever you called him a dog. You couldn’t help it, especially at times like this- with his eyes comfortably closed and melting into your every touch. It was adorable, despite the fact that you were actively cleaning up a wound. 

“Can’t sleep yet-” His body betrayed his words by interrupting his sentence to let out a yawn. “Gotta drive back.”

“Not like this, you’re not. I’ll drive.” Driving the truck wasn’t your favorite, but you have done it before. As long as you didn’t get pulled over, you could drive it home without a problem. “C’mon, let’s get you into bed before you actually pass out on me.”

With a light pat to his cheek, he dutifully allowed you to help him stand. His head immediately seeking your shoulder to lean on again. He was taller than you, but still seemed perfectly comfortable once he found the crook of your neck again. You blamed the blood loss and the crying for how touchy he was being. It’s not that he wasn’t a touchy person. He had a lack of personal space with those he was close to, but this was different. For a second, you questioned if this was even beyond him seeking you out as a source of comfort. 

Ignoring the swirl of worry and emotions you had yet to even fully admit to yourself, in your stomach, you carefully led him over to the cot inside the truck. You gave him a small nudge to sit down. He listened with only a small sound of complaint. The disappointment was short-lived. You could almost see ears perk up the moment you returned to sit by his side. 

“Thanks…for doing all this.” Standing must have woken him a little. His voice was much clearer than it was a few seconds ago. 

“It’s not like I was going to let you bleed out.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile across your lips, as you finished putting the last bandaid on his face. It was a haphazard job, but it would do the trick- at least for a few hours. 

“I know. Glad to have you on my side is all.” Your eyes moved from the collection of bandages to his eyes, feeling a little shocked by the genuine emotion they held. Charlie didn’t have a lot of people to count on. You knew that better than anyone.

“I’m happy to patch you up anytime.” Your hands left the sides of his face where you had been diligently working, moving down to find his hands. He took the hint and intertwined your fingers, giving them a light squeeze. The two of you were bonded, neither wanting to question of risk actually talking about what that bond was. You were waiting for him to say something, and he was in between being far too chicken shit and waiting for you. So many days spent dancing around either other like this. You knew, even now, that neither of you would mention the softness and tenderness from tonight’s interaction. He’d go to sleep as you drove him, and he’d wake up not remembering much of the night in the first place. Still you sat with him, foreheads pressed together, basking in each other’s company. 

“I gotta take you home, Char.” You whispered, not wanting to leave this moment yet. His grip on your hand tightened, but he still allowed you to pull away.  

“Tomorrow, let me take you to dinner.” His voice wasn’t as quiet as yours, but it was even more unsure of itself. Speaking before thinking, as always, but looking deep into your eyes this time. “As…thanks.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the offer. The two of you went out for dinner alone all the time, but something about this felt different. You gave his hand one final squeeze and planted a small kiss on his cheek before standing up. “It’s a date.”

[silv3rswirls]

Pranking them with another members sweater

Anon asks: Hi! Can I request an skz reaction where you prank them by saying “Oh here’s that sweater I borrowed from u earlier” but it’s actually not his sweater? Maybe it’s a members or its new ?? I hope I made sense

Note: Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy it!

♡Chan♡

“Here’s your sweater back by the way.” Chan looks up from his phone as you pull out his sweater from your bag, tossing it to him, going on with packing up the Tupperware you had brought him lunch in. He begins to thank you but stops himself once he picks it up and takes a closer look. What is this? It’s definitely too small to be his? Is this…Jeongin’s? “You’re joking right?” He laughs, tossing it aside to give back to Jeongin later. He ignores your attempts at trying to convince him you weren’t joking.

♡Minho♡

The moment you walk into the room, telling him you want to return the sweater you borrowed last week Minho’s ready to tell you just to keep it, but you toss the sweater to him before he can. He catches it, immediately scrunching his brows as he realizes it isn’t something he would own. “Wow,” he drags his voice out, side-eyeing you as you try your best to look completely innocent. “Wearing Han’s sweater? Tell him to take you to dinner then.” He huffs, ignoring your rushed explanations of it being a joke and that he should still go out with you tonight.

♡Changbin♡

“I think I have one of your sweaters upstairs” You hop up from where you had been leaning against Changbin watching a movie. He had complained for the third time now that he was cold. He had been grateful at first, but when you toss it to him and he gets ready to slip it on he stops. He does a double-take and gives you a weird look. “Whose sweater is this, yours?” 

“No, it’s yours?”

Changbin scoffs and shows it to you. “Do you think this will fit me? Whose is it.” You have a hard time repressing your smile at the thought of him trying to squeeze into Felix’s sweater. In the end, he’s so confused and about to fight some imaginary guy that you have to fess up about the prank. 

♡Hyunjin♡

He takes it from you and puts it on without much thought, yeah maybe it's a little big but he doesn’t sense anything is wrong until he realizes it doesn’t smell like yours or his cologne. He looks at you, not even paying attention to your struggle to hide your laughter. “Who’s the other man?” He asks, frowning and taking it off. He takes another look, the cologne smells familiar; is that…Chan’s? “Betrayed by two of the closest people to me” he shakes his head. Not funny, he’s a little annoyed, and even when you break your act he’s playfully avoiding you, sulking around and dramatically telling you to go be with Chan instead.

♡Jisung♡

“Here’s all your stuff” You smiled and handed Jisung a handful of all the things you had stolen from him the past month or so. It was an exchange you did often, but this time you had decided to get your boyfriend back for a prank he had pulled on you last week. So, with Minho’s permission you raided his bandmember's closet and gave it back to Han. 

“Oh, I don’t think…” Jisung trails off, picking through the clothes that are not his, are these Minho’s? “With my member?” He looks up with wide eyes, “cheating on me with my member?” You reconsider going on with the joke because he sounds so sincere, really playing into what you were trying to do. You both keep the act up far longer than needed, going about your evening play-fighting and trying not to be the first to break.

♡Felix♡

Poor guy doesn’t even realize it's one of his members when you turn up wearing it. He thought it was his, but it wasn’t something he would wear…who had given you their sweater? He’s quiet while you wait for his reaction, expecting him to poke at you for it and maybe be a little jealous of something, but he just presses his lips thin and tries to figure out what to say. “Did you have another guy over?” He finally asks.

Suddenly you feel like the one being pranked. Your jaw drops as you take it off and shove it closer to him. “It’s Hyunjin’s, see?” You point to some pain stains on the sleeves, “It was supposed to be a joke-” You’re halfway to apologizing when you realize he’s smirking, having turned it on you with ease.

♡Seungmin♡

Nice try

Seungmin merely side-eyes the sight of you trying to give him what is clearly one of Jeongin’s favorite sweatshirts back. “Not funny” he swats the sweater away, rolling his eyes at your attempts to convince him it’s not a joke and that it is his sweater. He’s not going to entertain you at all, honestly, he considers taking you back to the dorm and leaving your annoying self with Jeongin since you’re so insistent. The next time you ask to borrow something he’ll be sending you to Jeongin.

♡Jeongin♡

He knows what you are doing the moment he spots Changbin’s jacket in your arms. He’s seen plenty of these kinds of pranks online and honestly had expected you to try him sooner. “That’s not mine” He tilts his head to look harder at it. “Not mine, kinda looks like Changbin’s.”

“No, it’s yours you left it-” “Changbin must’ve left it, hm…” he looks you up and down. “You know, I always did wonder if you liked him more than me, but now I-” He’s cut off as you pout and toss it at him, complaining that he’s no fun, he shouldn’t tease like that, etc. Jeongin, however, finds your annoyance cute and will continue to make little jabs at you all day.

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 9: Flamenco

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 5.4k

Chapter 9/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Exciting stuff

Song for this chapter https://open.spotify.com/track/3B7EZgquNKHrSIo2tEc8mK?si=2ce2f0ac782f484c

18+ Minors DNI (mature)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Having a type-A personality has its perks. When you're not procrastinating or hiding from the world under your covers, you're girlbossing it hard. Like most mornings, you woke up at the second strike of your 6 AM alarm. No snooze, no excuses. The world didn’t wait for you; frankly, you weren’t about to let it get ahead.

Your private Pilates instructor was already on her way to destroy your body (figuratively, of course) in the garage studio. You shuffled into your kitchen, still half-asleep, and sipped on your lemon water while mentally preparing yourself for the torture—sorry, workout. The thought of the inevitable soreness made you groan, but you reminded yourself it was worth it. Your Type-A brain thrived on the discipline, and it felt good to start the day strong.

When the instructor arrived, you were dressed in sleek athleisure, hair tied back in a low ponytail, ready to pretend you enjoyed every second of it. You even entertained Luxe when she motivated you through what could be considered hate speech. You would never admit it, but you appreciated the encouragement, regardless of its content.

One hour later, you were showered and ready for work. Your skin glowed, and you felt great despite your muscles burning. It was time to get Isabella awake. You shuffled into her bedroom, snorting at how neat it was, as you moved to sit on her bed.

You rested a hand on what you could assume was her back, gently calling for her to wake up.

"Bella, come on, time for school,"

Isabella stirred under her blankets, her tiny body shifting closer to the pillow as if she could burrow away from the morning. A muffled groan escaped her, followed by a sleepy, "Five more minutes, Mama."

You chuckled, smoothing a hand over the soft fabric covering her back. "Five more minutes turns into fifteen, and then we're running late. Come on, Bella. Up and at 'em."

She peeked out from under the blanket, her curly hair sticking up in all directions. Her face was adorably pouty, and her eyes were barely open. "Do I have to?" she mumbled.

"Yes, you do. Education is important, remember?" you teased, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "And besides, you love school. You told me last night you couldn’t wait to show Ms. Thompson your drawing."

That jogged her memory. Isabella sat up, rubbing her eyes and yawning loudly. "Oh yeah," she said, her voice still thick with sleep. "Okay, I'm getting up."

"Good girl," you praised, patting her back as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. "I'll meet you downstairs for breakfast, okay?"

Isabella nodded, her small frame shuffling off to the bathroom. You smiled as you headed back to the kitchen, already planning the quick breakfast lineup. Multitasking was your superpower, and mornings like this reminded you why you thrived in the chaos.

Your phone buzzed on the counter as you packed her lunch and brewed your first cup of coffee. Monica's name lit up the screen.

“Hey, good morning. Will you pick up a coffee?"

"Yes, please,"

You switched the contacts to Natasha and sent her a cute message for whenever she woke up.

"Hope you have a good morning, baby. I'll be thinking about you. See you later x."

As you set Isabella’s lunchbox aside and sipped your coffee, you heard the soft shuffle of her footsteps approaching. She appeared in the doorway, her curls now somewhat tamed and her little face freshly washed. Isabella stood there for a moment, rubbing her eyes before making her way over to you.

Without a word, she wrapped her arms around your waist, resting her head against your side. You glanced down at her, your heart swelling at the gesture. Setting your coffee on the counter, you opened your arms wider, pulling her into a proper hug.

"Good morning again, munchkin," you said softly, smoothing stray hairs from her face.

"Morning, Mama," she murmured, leaning into the embrace like it was the safest place in the world.

You held her tighter, savoring the warmth and love she gave so freely. Moments like this weren’t uncommon, but they always reminded you how lucky you were. Isabella had always been affectionate, kind, and thoughtful—a reflection of what you and Sam had worked hard to instill in her.

"You’re such a sweetheart, you know that?" you whispered, kissing the top of her head.

Isabella smiled, her arms tightening around you. "You always say that."

"Because it’s true," you replied, pulling back just enough to look into her big, expressive eyes. "You’re the best part of my mornings, Bella. Always. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," She shrugged as she began to grab the fresh toast from the toaster. She spread a generous amount of Nutella on her toast before taking some of the fruit you'd sliced.

"So," you began, leaning back against the counter and sipping your coffee, "are you excited for school today?"

"Yeah," she nodded, a streak of chocolate at the corner of her mouth. "Ms. Thompson said we could watch a movie in class, and we're gonna get our new math books today."

"That's great," you smiled.

"Are you still going to the studio with Natasha later?" She inquired.

"Yeah, I am. We have a full schedule today. But I'll be home early. We'll have time to make dinner together. Sound good?"

Isabella sighed. "I really wanted to go to the studio with you. I want a chance to hang with the guys."

"I know," You checked your calendar today. "You probably won't be available for the beginning, but how about I have Reagan bring you to the studio? You can sit with us for a little while. Though, I think it's not an environment for a little girl."

"That would be awesome, Mama." She grinned.

You grabbed the lunch box and held it out to her. Isabella took it and slipped it into her backpack, then slung it over her shoulder.

"Alright, you got everything?" You asked, grabbing your coffee and keys and heading for the door.

Isabella nodded. "Mhm, all set."

"Perfect, let's go. And don't forget your headphones."

You walked out the front door, locking it behind you, and headed toward the car. The sun was rising; the sky was filled with shades of orange and pink. As the two of you buckled in, you looked over at Isabella. It was a perfect morning for the both of you.

The morning rush was well underway when you dropped Isabella off at school. The streets were filled with activity, but you managed to weave through traffic like a seasoned pro. As soon as you parked at the office, your phone buzzed in your bag.

The ringtone alone was enough to make you sigh. Work started early, and the day was already throwing curveballs.

"Hi, Karen," you greeted as you stepped into the building, heels clicking against the polished floors. "What’s going on?"

Karen’s voice was sharp on the other end. "We’ve got a situation with one of our clients. They posted something... let’s just say, off-brand, and now the comments section is an absolute war zone. "

"Great," you muttered, offering a quick wave to Monica, who was waiting for you near the elevator. She stepped beside you and handed you your coffee. You balanced your cup, handbag, and phone all at once. It was either something political or something to do with her ex?

"Both," Karen replied. "And I need you here. Stat. We have a crisis management meeting, and we need to act fast. Can you come in right away?"

"Yeah, of course. I'm in the lobby. I'll see you in twenty."

You ended the call, and a heavy sigh escaped your lips. Monica looked over, sympathy written all over her features.

"What was that all about?" she asked, following you onto the elevator.

"We have a client situation," you explained, tapping your foot impatiently as the elevator climbed. "Karen needs me in her office. ASAP."

Monica hummed, taking a sip of her drink. "Well, hopefully, it's not too bad."

"It's a bad thing we need a new PR thing by the end of the day," you shook your head. "I'll know more once I check it out. I've been staying off of social media for a while."

"Oh, you mean it's not normal to gain two hundred thousand followers in four months?" She teased.

"No, actually," You shook your head. "They all just want glimpses of Natasha and me. Which I'm fine with for the most part."

"And how are things with her?" Monica asked, tilting her head curiously.

You smiled, a blush coloring your cheeks. "Amazing. It's... it's everything I could have hoped for. We've been spending a lot of time together. Getting to know each other. But also getting to know our dynamic, y'know?"

"It sounds like she's the real deal, huh?" Monica guessed. She followed you to your office and stood in the doorway.

"Yeah? I mean, I guess?" You dropped your things onto your desk. "It's so interesting, to be quite honest. After Sam and I divorced, everyone I dated didn't seem to fit. With Natasha, it feels natural. It just feels like this is what was supposed to happen."

"Wow, I didn't know it was that deep," Monica joked.

"I guess it's just because she makes me feel good. When I'm with her, it's like I can be myself without worrying about anything. Like I don't have to put on a mask." You shrugged.

"Aww, you're in love."

"I know."

"Have you told her yet?" Monica pressed.

You paused, your mind reverting to the moments you shared with her. There was no denying how deeply you cared about her. It wasn't just infatuation.

"Yeah," you breathed, your chest swelling. "Yeah, I did."

"What did she say?"

"Well, technically, she said it first." you shrugged.

Monica's eyes widened, her mouth falling open in exaggerated shock. "She said it first? Oh my God, this is serious!"

You couldn't help but laugh at her reaction as you moved around your desk, straightening a few papers and powering your computer. "I guess it is," you admitted, the blush on your cheeks deepening. "But honestly, it felt so right. We were just... in the moment. I didn’t even have to think about it."

Monica leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms with a knowing smile. "I love this for you. You deserve it, after everything with Sam. Speaking of, does Isabella know how serious things are between you two?"

"Not yet," you replied, pulling your chair out and settling in. "I mean, she knows Natasha’s important to me, and she adores her. But I’m still trying to take it slow, y’know? I don’t want to rush anything. It’s a big change for all of us."

"Smart move," Monica agreed. "You’re handling this really well, honestly. I can’t say I’d be this level-headed if I were in your shoes."

You chuckled, grabbing your planner to skim through your schedule for the day. "Trust me, it’s a balancing act. Between work, Isabella, and this relationship... it’s a lot. But it’s worth it."

Monica pushed off the doorway, giving you a soft smile. "Well, I’m rooting for you guys. Natasha seems like she really gets you, and that’s rare."

"Thanks, Monica. That means a lot," you said sincerely.

"Anytime. Now," she gestured to the stack of papers in her arms, "Are you still going to meet Karen upstairs?"

"Oh, shit, I almost forgot." You shook your head.

And the day began.

****

The morning light barely filtered through the blackout curtains of Natasha’s bedroom as she groaned at the sound of voices coming from somewhere in the hallway. It’s 9:00 AM, far too early for her usual standards, but last night’s recording session had dragged well into the early hours. Her body felt like it was weighed down by bricks as she blindly groped for her phone on the nightstand.

The screen lights up:

y/n: Good morning, rockstar. Don’t forget Mitch at 10:30.

Natasha smirked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She typed back quickly:

I remember. Barely. Coffee first. I love you.

Rolling out of bed, she grabbed a hoodie from the floor and pulled it over her tank top before shuffling out into the hallway, her hair a mess of waves from sleep.

Her mind was still foggy when she nearly collided with someone—a brunette woman wearing her robe.

“Whoa there, sleepyhead,” the woman drawled, holding her coffee mug steady as she stepped back.

Natasha blinked at her, momentarily disoriented. She recognized the woman immediately: Agatha Harkness, a veteran actress known for her sharp wit and even sharper tongue. When another voice entered the scene, Natasha didn't even have time to process why Agatha was in her apartment.

“Nat, I’m so sorry,” Wanda appears in the guest room doorway, looking frazzled but still managing to radiate calm. “Agatha stayed the night. I should’ve told you.”

"When did you even have time for her to stay the night? We got home at like four am," Natasha frowned.

"Can't say no to a late-night booty call," Agatha grinned. She glanced down at Natasha's Spiderman underwear and chuckled.

"Hey, why don't you go and wait for me in the bedroom," Wanda suggested. They shared a kiss that made Natasha pretend to gag. Not because Agatha wasn't hot. Because she was, and it was annoying.

"See you, rockstar," Agatha quipped before stepping back into the bedroom.

"Do we need to think about getting our own places?" Natasha questioned as she walked towards the kitchen.

"No, of course not, I love living with you," Wanda said.

Natasha nodded. "Good. Because I wouldn't want to live anywhere else." Natasha glanced at the clock again and began to pour herself a bowl of fruit loops. "I have a meeting at ten with Mitch. Wanna come?"

Wanda's face scrunched up. "Hmm, that's so early."

"You don't have to come." Natasha shrugged.

"Yeah, but I'm gonna anyway," Wanda insisted, leaning against the counter.

"So, you and Agatha?" Natasha began. "When did this start?"

"It's casual," Wanda waved off.

"Uh huh," Natasha hummed, finishing the rest of her breakfast.

Wanda smirked. "Don't get all judgy, it's fun. Nothing serious, I swear. It's not like I'm seeing her exclusively or anything."

"You can have fun and have a relationship, y'know?"

"Oh, and settle down like you?" Wanda laughed.

"No," Natasha frowned, grabbing her dishes and putting them into the dishwasher. "That's not what I meant. Also, I'd hardly say I'm settled down."

Wanda scoffed, her face twisted in amusement. "Are you kidding me? You've been seeing this woman for almost five months. And you haven't brought anyone else home since. Not to mention how much you've been talking about her lately. It's almost sickening."

"Shut up, I have not," Natasha grumbled, moving to her room to get dressed.

Wanda followed behind her, plopping onto her bed. "You have. You're practically a Stepford wife."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Okay, sure, but it's not like that's a bad thing. I'm happy, and she makes me happy."

Wanda watched her closely, a knowing look in her eyes. "I think you're more than happy, Nat."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Natasha asked, pausing midway through, grabbing a new robe. Wanda owed her one.

"I think you're falling in love," Wanda teased, grinning up at her.

"That's ridiculous." Natasha deadpanned, continuing to rummage through her closet.

"It's not. I've never seen you so hung up on someone before." Wanda pointed out. "Well, since Carol."

"Hmm," Natasha acknowledged. There was something in her expression that made Wanda wonder if she had a little secret.

"What is it? Come on, tell me," Wanda demanded, sitting up and leaning toward her.

"It's nothing," Natasha assured.

"Nope, I can tell. There's something different about you," Wanda pressed.

"It's stupid, honestly."

"Spit it out, Romanoff."

"I told y/n I love her," Natasha said. "And she said she loved me back."

"WHAT? You said it first? Oh, Nat, that's so cute. You're in love. It's happening," Wanda gasped.

"It's not happening; it's not a thing. We just said it."

"So you love her, but it's not a thing?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying," Natasha defended. She walked in and out of her closet as she tried to find something appropriate to wear to the meeting with Mitch. "I don't want it to be this big whirlwind relationship. I want to continue getting to know each other."

"I'd say you two know each other pretty well from these texts she's sent you," Wanda's eyes widened as she scrolled through Natasha’s phone. "You guys sext each other?"

"Wanda, give me my phone," Natasha snatched it from her. "That's a complete lack of privacy."

"Hey, I didn't see anything bad," Wanda chuckled. "What's that thing with your tongue she's raving about? Can you teach me? I think Agatha would really love it."

Natasha's cheeks burned as she shook her head. "This is why we don't share. Now please, can you leave me alone? I have to get dressed and meet with Mitch. I don't have time for your nonsense."

"Fine," Wanda huffed, standing from the bed. "But just so you know, I'm super happy for you."

"Thanks," Natasha mumbled.

As Wanda headed for the door, she looked over her shoulder and smirked. "I hope I'm the maid of honor at your wedding."

Natasha groaned, tossing her dirty laundry in the hamper.

"Don't even joke about that. That's a whole can of worms I'm not ready to open."

"Fine," Wanda laughed.

**************

Natasha slipped into the studio’s meeting room, with Wanda trailing behind her, clutching coffee cups like lifelines. Mitch was already there, papers and a tablet spread out in front of her, her usual no-nonsense expression in place.

“Morning, Romanoff, Maximoff,” Mitch greeted, gesturing to the seats across from her. “Glad you two could finally join us.”

“It’s barely 10:30,” Natasha muttered, sinking into her chair. “Some of us had a late night.”

“And some of us have a band to manage,” Mitch shot back, her tone sharp but playful. “Speaking of which, we’ve got a lot to cover today, so let’s get to it.”

Natasha waved a hand as if to give her the floor.

“At a minimum, I’m your booking agent—venues, show dates, contracts, all that boring stuff. But we’re aiming for more here,” Mitch began, swiping on her tablet. “The plans for this next tour are ambitious. Bigger venues, bigger cities, and—if we play this right—bigger press coverage.”

“That sounds… overwhelming,” Wanda admitted, her brows furrowing.

“It is,” Mitch agreed, not missing a beat. “But it’s also what’s going to put you on the map. The album is shaping up nicely. Ten tracks total. Seven are already written and recorded, but we need to nail down those final three.”

Natasha leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “What’s the timeline?”

“Studio time’s booked for the next month. Your duet with Y/N is one of the final tracks, and we’ll position it as a crossover single. Something to expand your audience a little. Y/N’s name alone will give it traction,” Mitch explained. "With your relationship being the hottest new thing out, I think it's time we crank it up a notch."

"I'm not using my relationship as PR," Natasha denied.

"Your girlfriend's a publicist and didn't play that angle out for you?" Mitch raised a brow.

"She mentioned it once or twice, but she's also very much against it," Natasha answered.

Mitch sighed. "That's a shame. I'm sure the press would love it. They're practically salivating over the two of you. And the song you wrote is beautiful."

Natasha nodded. "It's personal. It's about the moment I knew I loved her."

"So, you don't have a problem writing a song and singing about it publicly?"

"No, I don't," Natasha shrugged. "We're together. And people know that."

"Well, that's a good sign," Mitch smirked, sipping her drink. "This band. Your band. You guys blew up overnight. Everyone has been talking about Velvet Rebellion for the past year. Good or bad. Why not shift to something better?"

"That's not the only reason why we're in this. We're trying to do something great with our music." Natasha defended.

"I know," Mitch replied. "I know the kind of talent you have. I've been around for a long time. And trust me, the best thing you can do is play this up."

"Play what up?" Wanda questioned.

"Your image. Your brand. All of it. We could spin this into the most romantic tour the world has ever seen. It'd be the story of the decade."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, now you think she should come on tour with us? Am I hearing this correctly?"

"I'm not saying that she should. I'm just saying it's a possibility. You're the biggest thing since Taylor Swift and her boy band," Mitch pointed out. "The world is eating this up. And you know what sells the best? Love. Romance. Sex."

Natasha groaned. "Can we talk about this some other time?"

"Sure," Mitch shrugged. "I'm just letting you know all of our angles."

"Thanks," Natasha deadpanned.

"Now, let's move on to the next subject. You guys are scheduled to do an interview with Rolling Stone magazine," Mitch informed. "They're doing a piece on your success. A full-page spread. They want a photo shoot."

"Ooh, that sounds fun," Wanda grinned.

"Great."

Natasha leaned back in her chair, running a hand through her hair as Mitch continued rattling off details about the Rolling Stone feature. A full-page spread, photoshoot, interviews—everything they’d ever wanted as a band. It was the kind of coverage that could cement their place in music history, a step toward being known not just as another band with catchy songs but as real artists with something to say.

Still, her mind lingered on Mitch’s earlier comment. The suggestion that you could come on tour with them as some kind of PR angle made Natasha’s stomach twist.

Sure, her relationship with you was public enough, but only on your terms. It was the casual paparazzi shots, the glimpses of you at coffee shops or strolling hand in hand after a late-night studio session. Nothing orchestrated. Nothing overly intrusive. And Natasha intended to keep it that way.

Her fingers tapped against the table as she considered Mitch’s words. You weren't just her girlfriend; you were her collaborator, her muse, her safe space. Bringing you on tour might make the fans swoon and the tabloids buzz, but was it worth the risk?

She didn’t want her relationship with you to become just another headline, something for the world to pick apart and toss aside.

But at the same time, she wondered if it was possible to strike a balance. Their next album wasn’t just about love songs. It was about life—raw, messy, and real. Songs that spoke to the heart of what it meant to live and feel deeply. Would it be hypocritical to shy away from the love that inspired some of those tracks?

******

Studio time was one of Natasha's favorites. It was the electrifying moments the band got together and simply created. They'd let all of their ideas run amuck. Nothing was too crazy or bodacious when it came to their music-writing process. The studio was filled with a relaxed energy. It wasn’t the kind of sterile, pristine environment some people might imagine when they thought of a high-tech recording studio. Instead, it was alive, warm with conversation and the scent of takeout boxes scattered across the long wooden table in the corner.

Your dad hadn’t spared any expense on the place—state-of-the-art equipment lined the walls, from mixing consoles with glowing buttons to racks of sleek guitars and keyboards. The acoustics in the room were perfect. It was everything they needed to finish off the album.

A haze of cigarette smoke lingered in the air near the door where a couple of crew members leaned, chatting lazily. Shawn McCall, the producer the band swore by, sat behind the massive soundboard, a pair of headphones perched around his neck. He looked completely at ease, sipping his energy drink as he quickly adjusted to the levels, occasionally glancing toward you and Natasha.

Natasha stood near the center of the live room, a guitar slung over her shoulder. She strummed it absentmindedly, her sharp green eyes flickering toward you, who was sitting on a stool by the mic. The band was scattered around the control room—Wanda leaned against the back wall, twirling her hair, while Bucky and Steve hovered near Shawn, chatting over the latest changes to the track.

“Alright,” Natasha’s voice cut through the room, smooth and confident. “Let’s rerun it from the top. Y/N, just breathe through that first verse. Your voice will blend so well with Wanda's melodies. You’ve got this.”

You nodded, flashing her a quick thumbs up as you adjusted the mic.

The lights dimmed, and the music began to flow from the speakers. Natasha closed her eyes, leaning into the song as she picked up the first chords. In your ears, you and Wanda sang together, the melody intertwining, creating something new and breathtaking.

It was one of the most difficult tracks on the album, as it was so different from what the band was used to. Though you thought it fit quite well. It was a powerful statement for the album. You ran through the first verse several times. You allowed yourself to watch Natasha as she nodded along with your singing. Finally, you relaxed your shoulders.

"That was good," Natasha stepped closer to you. She didn't care that there were other people in the room.

"Really?" you smiled.

"Yeah," she said. "You sound beautiful."

"Thanks," you blushed. "It's really hard to focus on my vocals and your guitar. You're just so good at playing, y'know."

"I have a good teacher," Natasha winked.

"You're ridiculous," you laughed.

"Okay, ladies, how about we take five?" Shawn suggested. This caught both of you off guard, and you looked at him and nodded.

Just as you were about to ask Natasha about what you could get into in the five minutes you had, Isabella entered the studio with her nanny, Reagan, in tow.

As soon as Isabella entered the room, everything changed. The casual atmosphere that had permeated the studio just moments ago vanished. The haze of cigarette smoke seemed to evaporate into thin air, and suddenly, the counters were cleared of food boxes and discarded cups. People stood a little straighter, voices lowered, and the usual easy curse-filled banter was replaced with murmurs.

Reagan walked in behind her, offering a polite nod to the group as she stayed near the door, watching the little girl. Looking every bit like a miniature version of you, Isabella skipped forward into the room with a beaming smile, her hair bouncing around her shoulders. She went straight to you, arms open wide for a hug.

"Mom!" Isabella exclaimed, wrapping her arms around your waist. "Thanks for letting me come. This is so cool.

"Hey, sweet girl," You said, your voice softening immediately. You kissed Isabella on the cheek.

"You've never been in a studio? Do you mind if I show you around?" Natasha suggested.

Isabella glanced up at her, and her grin widened.

"Yes! Can we do that now, please?" She tugged on your hand.

"Go ahead," you chuckled.

Natasha smiled. "We'll be back soon."

"Take your time," You assured.

Reagan and the rest of the studio staff watched as Natasha guided the little girl across the room, explaining each piece of equipment in detail. You followed them out into the control room, where you took out your phone and recorded them. You kept Isabella's face concealed as she listened to Natasha explain what things did. She asked questions about the soundboard and the different switches and dials, her eyes excitedly bright. You added the post to your Instagram story.

"Are you guys almost done recording?" Isabella questioned.

"Not quite. We have a few more songs to record. But then the album will be ready for us to put out," Natasha answered.

"Do you write all the songs by yourself?"

"No, some of them are written with partners like Wanda." Natasha gestured behind her.

"Hey, Bucky, can you show me how to play something on your guitar?" Isabella requested. The usually quiet guitarist nodded.

"Sure, kiddo," Bucky replied, standing from his seat.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Wanda quipped.

"She's not going to break anything," Bucky insisted. "Here, you see where my fingers are. This is the A chord."

Another Instagrammable moment for you. Isabella listened aptly as Bucky showed her how to strum a few chords. When they finished, you could practically hear the gears in Isabella's head turning.

"This is gonna be our last song before we're done for the night," Natasha noted, mainly to the rest of the room. "We should probably get back in there. Are you going to stick around and watch?"

"Can I?" Isabella asked.

"Sure," You agreed. "You can go hang out with Wanda; she can tell you what we're doing."

"Sounds good," Natasha smirked. "Alright, let's wrap this up. It's getting late."

The studio session moved more quickly than usual. No one wanted to work late hours with a child in the studio. Not that seven p.m. was late in any of your books. You left the studio session feeling exhilarated. It had been too long since you recorded music or played with anything. Regan had gone home shortly after dropping Isabella off. So it was just the three of you walking to your car. Isabella insisted on holding Natasha's hand as you walked out.

You'd check your Instagram, not realizing how much traction you'd get, but sure enough, both stories you'd posted had gotten well over fifty thousand views in just two hours.

You'd also received an influx of comments from Natasha and Velvet Rebellion fans.

@stardust_in_her_eyes: I want Natasha to be my mom. Honestly, this is what we all need—pure love and talent in one package! #familygoals

@therealjuliaa: Is it just me, or do they look like the perfect stepmother-daughter duo?? This is giving me all the feels 🙌

and more of…

@lilrocker_babe: This is EVERYTHING! Bucky teaching Isabella the guitar, and you can see how much she’s absorbing! 🤘🎸

@onfire88: Bucky's a total softie, LOL. But seriously, that A chord is iconic now 😆

@softlyguitar: Can we get a full version of this?? Are Bucky and Isabella performing a duet someday? YES PLEASE!!

@paulcasual: Not sure who’s cuter here: Bucky or Isabella. But for real, this is such a wholesome moment! 👏

You didn't feel as nervous as you once did about posting. Sure, you'd continue valuing that privacy, but letting people in with small glimpses wasn't bad. As you drove home, Natasha leaned back in her seat, her fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. The adrenaline of the studio session still buzzed in her veins, her mind replaying the sounds of the music and the moments with you. She could almost feel the spark of something bigger than just an album—this was her life, her music, and it felt like everything was coming together.

Isabella had fallen asleep in the backseat, her soft breathing the only sound in the car, leaving you and Natasha to share a quiet moment.

Natasha’s phone buzzed on the cup holder, the screen lighting up with a new notification. She glanced down, her thumb hovering over the message. You could see the brief moment of hesitation before she unlocked her phone.

"Everything okay?" you asked, noticing her change in demeanor.

"Yeah," Natasha replied quickly, but her eyes narrowed slightly as she read the message. You were at a stoplight way longer than necessary. "It's... just from Steve."

You didn’t press her, but you could sense something shifting in the air.

“I just—” Natasha stopped, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. The words didn’t come out quickly. She cleared her throat, glancing over at you. “Carol’s in the hospital.”

Your stomach dropped, the warmth of the car and the night air suddenly feeling distant. “What happened?”

“She… relapsed,” Natasha said quietly, the weight of the words settling over her. Her usual confidence seemed to crack for a moment. “I don’t even know what to say. Steve’s saying she’s in stable condition, but... I don’t know.”

You could tell immediately that the mood had shifted.

"Go to her," You said.

"What? Are you sure?" Natasha bit her lip nervously.

"I'm positive," You nodded.

You could only hope this was the right choice to make. 

(we're getting a backstory, we're getting love story, we're getting tragedy, we're getting rockstars trashing hotel rooms, Tony getting arrested again, and broken hearts all coming up soon)

---> next part

[sunny1616]

Ready

Rafe Cameron x pregnant reader

Summary: You're about to give birth to your twin boys.

Warnings: pregnancy

"Rafe!! I think my water broke!!" You were on the phone with Rafe while in the kitchen getting a snack when all of a sudden you felt wetness down your legs. On the other end of the line you heard nothing but silence.

"WHAT NOW?!... Okay. Thats completely fine. Wooo. Oh my god its happening!!" Rafe was freaking out on the other end trying to gather himself so he could figure out what to do next.

"Rafe! Dont freak out. We both planned for this. Now, im going to-"

"Skrew the plans!!! Go sit on the couch. Stay on the line and wait for me to come home!!"

"Babe, don't worry my bag is packed and im fine. I was just going to clean myself up and change into something else. Then I'll wait for you. I'll see you soon. Just drive safely!"

"*pant* Yea. *pant* Okay. You're right. *pant* We got this. *deep breathe* hang tight for 15mins I'm coming."

"Haha yeah, we got this. Be careful! Bye!"

You end the call, then find some paper towels to toss on the wet spots on the ground. Then you go into your closet and attached master bathroom to clean up and then decide to take a quick shower since you have the time. You then put on some wideleg sweatpants and a comfy stretchy t-shirt on to go on top of your belly.

You are sitting on the floor with all your things packed in your bags for a few days in the hospital. You're doing your final checks when you hear Rafe come in behind you. You twist around to greet him, but he reaches you quick hugging you and rubbing your belly while giving multiple kisses on your temple. You hold onto his arms keeping yourself in his embrace.

"Hey baby, how are you doing? Im sorry I didn't get here sooner. Traffic was crazy. Have you already finished packin? Did you shower?!" From his surprised features, you can clearly tell that this is not going the way he thought.

"Yeah, haha. My contractions are only 15 minutes apart, and I've only had 2 so far, so i thought that i could time my shower in between. Then I just put my clothes on. Im just double-checking all this stuff, i already know we have everything. All that's left is your stuff, and you getting ready. Then heading to the hospital!! Im excited!! But also nervous, haha." You take his silence as shock and relief and how great your doing.

"I'm glad you're all ready to go. I guess ill just change and get this stuff in the car. You just relax, ill do the rest. We'll be in the hospital right away." He then meets your lips with a kiss and gets up and heads to the closet.

"You don't need to rush! Hospital protocal usually says that we should go in when contractions are only 5mins apart. So we still have time! You can shower if you want!"

"You're amazing, you know that? I still say we go before it reaches that point since you're having twins!" He then pops out of the closet after changing and then picks up the packed luggage and carries it downstairs.

"True true. But baby, where's your stuff? i couldn't find it in the closet?" You say loudly so he can hear you from downstairs.

"It's already in the car. I've had my hospital bag in there for a few days now. Don't come downstairs yet! I'll come get you!" You roll your eyes at that. But are so happy that everything is happening at a smooth pace. You then go to get up to find your sweater and Rafe gets back upstairs and is at the door.

"Ready?" He smiles at you.

"More than ever!" You give him the biggest grin.

He then leads you down the stairs, which you admit feels safer with his since you can barely see the steps under your belly.

Rafe then gets you into the shotgun seat of the car and gives you a kiss. He gets around to the other side and starts driving to the hospital. You have a contraction on a red light. But a few handsqeezes with Rafe and controlled breathing exercises get you through.

Once at the hospital reception desk. The nurse explains the paper work and gets you into a wheelchair and helps you to your room.

You then change into your delivery attire and are set into the bed with all the monitors and equipment. This is very real now.

The doctor comes every 2hrs and after 10hrs finally notifies you about your progression and tells you to start pushing.

"You're doing so good, sweetie. One more, you got this!" He's right there by your side giving holding your hand and the back of your neck. During a push, he helps you reach a deeper crunch by supporting your back.

After what feels like hours of pushing. You finally get the first baby out.

Authors note: should i do a pt2? Ive written past this point 3 times now but everytime i save, my progress keeps vanishing!😫 I'll only do it if anyone wants lol. Otherwise i hope you like it and thank you for reading! 💗

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 13

Hey, guys do you all remember that period of time when I was working on this story but refused to show you snippets of it on WIP Wednesdays? Yeah, this is that chapter. (I'm pretty sure, anyway. Because this shit was super spoilery.)

We finally get what happened to Steve and why he didn't grow up as Pack. This chapter does get a little dark in its themes so be careful when you read and if you need specifics, DM me and I'll fill you in.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

****

Eddie and Wayne landed in front of their trailer with a deft touch. Eddie still wasn’t over the joy of being able to fucking fly. Like sure when he was younger, Wayne would take him for flights occasionally, but nothing beat banking on a breeze as the wind lifted him higher and higher.

“Your boy’s got a mouth on him,” Wayne said gruffly as he walked up the stairs to their trailer.

Eddie chuckled. “Always had. Even in school.”

Wayne huffed out a laugh. “True enough.”

As soon as they were safe inside, Eddie asked, “Hey, do you remember that couple who took Stevie in when his parents died?”

Wayne frowned. “You mean the Franklins?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Eddie snapped his fingers. “Yeah, them. Why was Steve placed with them? And not, I don’t know, the pack?”

“Ah.”

Wayne went to the kitchen and pulled out a six pack of beers. “That’s a bit of story. Drink up, you’ll need it for this.”

Eddie opened up a can of beer and settled in for story time.

Wayne downed an entire beer and wiped his mouth off with his sleeve.

“Hopper had gotten bad,” Wayne began. “Like real bad.”

“You’ve mentioned that before. That was around the time I came to live with you, right?”

Wayne nodded. “It wasn’t just drinking. It was drugs, too. And not just weed, either. I’m talking the heavy stuff.”

Eddie nodded. He had sold said heavy stuff to Hopper just before he cleaned up with El coming into his life. When Wayne asked him why, Eddie told him that he had no idea what he was doing with it and honestly didn’t care.

Knowing what Eddie did now, he regretted it, but he was so close to being able to afford his Warlock that that was all he cared about at the time.

“Steve’s dad Clint Harrington was getting ready to challenge Hopper for the position of alpha,” Wayne continued. “He knew that he might kill Hopper, but at that point it probably would have been a mercy.”

Eddie nodded solemnly. Maybe if Clint Harrington had lived, lived to be the alpha, the town wouldn’t be experiencing the troubles it was now.

“So what happened?” he asked gravely.

“Allison’s father died out in New York,” Wayne said. “The timing of it was so suspect, Ed. Like, you know I hate conspiracies with every fiber of my being, because there rarely is one. But this smelled rank from the get go.”

“You think whoever had the Harringtons killed,” Eddie said, “you think also popped off Granpappy, too, don’t you?”

Wayne glared at him, but conceded the point. “Whatever happened to the Harringtons was bad, boy. Like their bodies were savaged–”

He stopped and his eyes went wide. “It was exactly like this morning. I couldn’t tell the scent then, just like I couldn’t now.”

Eddie nodded. “As near as I could tell, there wasn’t a scent to be had. Whatever it was who killed the Harringtons and attacked Patrick, didn’t leave behind a scent.”

“There are very few things in this world that leave a scent so minuscule I could barely detect it,” Wayne said.

Eddie nodded. “So what happened with Steve after they died?” He was interested in the other thing, but he was really worried about his boyfriend.

“The old mayor, Larry Kline and I,” Wayne said amused, “made the decision that the pack wasn’t safe for Steve. But despite what Steve thinks the Franklins weren’t human.”

Eddie frowned. “They weren’t?”

“They were Were too,” he said with wary tilt of his head. “Were-bat. We figured that with them being at least Weres would be able to teach him how to shift and how to shift back comfortably.”

“So what went wrong?” Eddie asked, moving closer to Wayne on the sofa. “Because holy hell, pops, if Steve had been human CPS would have been called and fast.”

Wayne drank more of his beer and then rubbed one eye with the other hand. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t. There were no indications that Steve was anything other than a kid who’s parents died and was adjusting to it. Yeah, he wasn’t exactly happy, but we didn’t expect him to be, you know?”

“So what changed?”

Wayne drank the last of his beer and set it on the coffee table. “They were away on a trip and I don’t know if they forgot, didn’t care, or planned it... but Steve wolfed out for the first in his entire life when he was eighteen.”

“What?!”

Weres were supposed to shift for the first time when they hit puberty. Early teens for most of them. But to not shift until you were eighteen was just begging for the Were to go insane.

“Fucking hell, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie groaned. “Whoever this is is playing a long ass game. Jesus Christ. They were hoping he would go crazy, ending the Harrington line for good. So what happened?”

Wayne licked his lips. “Steve ran to me. He was frightened. Terrified out of his mind. Old Mack nearly shot the poor bastard as he came tearing through the trailer park.”

“Jesus H. Christ...” Eddie whispered.

Wayne chuckled. “It wouldn’ve done shit, it was just a regular bullet, it wouldn’ve even slowed him down.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief. “So what stayed Mack’s hand then?”

“You’ve seen your boy in wolf form,” Wayne said, “can you imagine how beautiful he looked then? The cream of his under belly blending with the warm brown of his back and face as he tore down the gravel pavement?”

Eddie could imagine it in fact. Steve was gorgeous as a human, but as a werewolf? He was exquisite. It came from his mixed breeding of being born from another born werewolf and his turned wife. Born werewolves tended to be more timber wolf in their appearance. Almost dire wolf-esque. Big, with course fur and fierce. Bitten werewolves tended toward the smaller red wolves. Quick, slender, and cunning as hell.

Steve was a mix of these two breeds and it made him the most beautiful thing on four legs Eddie have ever scene.

“To fire at something so majestic would have been a travesty,” Wayne was saying when Eddie came back from his revery. “So Mack just stood there, rifle in hand as Steve made straight for my door.”

Eddie frowned. “Where was I? I don’t remember this.”

“You and your friends had gone to Indy for some concert or another,” Wayne said. “I don’t rightly recall.”

Eddie’s frown got deeper, he’d only gone to one concert with his friends in Indy because one of the ‘85 Hellfire Club members had gotten tickets for graduation and had taken all of them.

“Is that why you weren’t home when I got back into Hawkins?” he asked. “You were dealing with Steve?”

Wayne nodded and popped open another bottle of beer. He held one up to Eddie, but he shook his head. Eddie held up his still mostly full can. Wayne licked his lips.

“You’ll want to drink more of that,” he muttered.

Eddie did as he was told and it took the edge off of his anxiety but settled sour in his stomach.

“After I got Steve sedated,” Wayne said, “and yes it was fucked up I even had to in the first place, I went a paid the Franklins a visit.”

“That sounds ominous,” Eddie said flatly.

Wayne grinned. “They tried to tell me that they were frightened of Steve. That as a wolf he was much bigger than they were as bats. That all it would take was one snap of his giant jaw and they would be but a morsel to the boy.”

Eddie blinked at his uncle in confusion. “What now? His first change would have been a literal puppy. He wouldn’t have even been able toddle after them, let alone get within biting distance.”

Wayne huffed. “Right in one, boy. And if they had been teaching him from his first change on, he wouldn’t have thought of them as prey at all. Not even on moon nights.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“And then they tried to attack me,” Wayne continued.

“They did what?” Eddie squawked.

“They probably would have succeeded, too,” he said, “but apparently Steve is a hard wolf to keep down and followed me like a lost puppy. When he saw Dick Franklin raise a fucking yew stake to stab me in the back, Steve leapt on him.”

“Where the fuck did they get a yew stake?”

Wayne just shook his head. “The hell if I know, kid. But in comes this wolf and just snatches the damn thing out of Dick’s hand. He runs off with it Ella Franklin hot on his heels in bat form. Bats are fast and she catches up quickly. The problem is that in or out of bat form she knows she no match for Steve, so she tries to blind him by going for his eyes.”

Eddie’s hand covered his mouth as he listened to him go on about this horrible night.

“But despite what a lot of people think,” Wayne continued, “your boy ain’t dumb. He keeps his head down and makes right for the Creel House. He tosses the thrall on duty the stake and suddenly a werebat is face to face with Tammy Thompson, now holding a yew stake as Steve just continues running past the Coven.”

Eddie blinked. “I didn’t realize that Tammy’s family were thralls.”

“Just like the Perkins, Buckleys, and Hagans are hereditary keepers,” Wayne said with a nod, “the Thompsons, Carmichaels, and Bensons have always been hereditary thralls.”

Eddie was starting to think that he really should have paid closer attention to the hierarchies in school, they were a lot more important than he knew.

“Anywho,” Wayne said with a shake of his head. “Ella flies back to their house to find me beating the hell out of Dick. She manages to distract me long enough for Dick to get on his feet, but now it’s two against one and they’re still strong in their human forms, but wicked fast. I was able to take out Dick, the coward that he was, but Ella was proving to be too fast. She was going to get away.”

Eddie drank the rest of his beer and popped open another one. He leaned forward so that he was on the edge of the sofa, and his knee began to shake.

Wayne put his hand his knee to settle it, but Eddie stared at him wild eyed.

“I don’t have to finish if this bothering, Ed,” he said warmly. “I can give you the Cliffnotes.”

Eddie shook his head. “What happened next?”

“Just as she took flight, the thing they had always feared happened,” he said softly. “Steve’s jaws came down on her with a sickening crunch. Dick started spewing all sorts of curse words and things I didn’t understand. Something about how werewolves were a plague among the Weres and that they had to be exterminated and how if Steve hadn’t had my protection they would have drowned the bastard in the bathtub.”

“What. The. Fuck?” Eddie asked, can crumpling in his fist as it tightened on it.

“It didn’t mean anything until the events going on now,” Wayne said with a heavy sigh. He crumpled his can one handed and stared at the twisted mass. “But I think whoever it is who is trying to tear this community apart is getting desperate. They’re starting to make mistakes. And I think one day soon, this is all going to blow up in our faces.”

Eddie gulped, but nodded.

****

Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the shed

lilac, chapter ten

a/n: the drama is here, folks. it has arrived. welcome.

summary: “he’s here,” you shuttered, your words barely above a whisper.

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, kinda mob!ex-boyfriend vibes, angst, crying, violence

word count: 2358

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“Hey, Otto,” you smiled warmly as the small town’s sheriff untangled his scarf from around his neck and marched up to where you were wiping a small table down with a damp cloth, “Donna should be here soon if you wanna sit with her during lunch.”

“Oh, I’d love to,” the seasoned man sighed longingly, “but unfortunately the stack of paperwork I left at my desk won’t allow me to hear the latest gossip. She’ll just have to fill me in tomorrow.” 

“So, to go then?” the rag in your grasp finished up its cleanly dance across the smooth woodgrain. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, thinking out loud as he glanced down to stuff as much of the scarf into his left pocket as it could bear, “right now I’m thinking a sandwich, unless, what’s your special today?” 

“Uh, it’s a dahl,” you informed him, carefully folding up the wipe as you stepped closer towards the kitchen door, the sheriff shadowing the short journey, “got lots of spinach and stuff in it.”

“Oh, it’s dahl day? Well, then forget about the sandwich, I’ll have some of that with rice, just rice, and maybe if you could also fill up my thermos with some fresh coffee, that would be great,” he opened up his coat and conjured the nifty decanter from a roomy inner pocket. 

“You got,” you uttered before he handed the flagon off to you and your feet carried you the rest of the way into the kitchen, “hey, dad?” you gently patted his shoulder as you walked past his stance by the stove to get to the coffee maker. 

“Yeah, sweetie?” he halted his stirring and tapped the turmeric-stained spoon on the edge of one of the simmering pots before resting it back down on a little plate to the side. 

Unscrewing the top off of the pastel yellow thermos, you gingerly streamed in some of the requested brew, “can you pack up a portion of dahl with rice for Otto?” 

“Yep, yep,” he fished out a spatula from one of the jugs on the counter that simply overflowed with various utensils, “tell him it’ll be one second.” 

Entering the dining space once more, you handed off the filled thermos to sheriff Nilsen, “here,” who now sat on one of the chairs, “he says it’ll just be a moment.”

“Thanks, kid,” he flashed you a warm smile just before you turned on your heel, “you have a great rest of your day, yeah?”

“You too!” you glanced back over your shoulder with a small wave. 

As you strode towards the lobby and the thick stack of mail you still hadn’t sorted through, a voice began to catch your ear. 

“Fiancé?” old lady Edith’s shrill tone cut through from around the corner, “well, I had absolutely no idea she was engaged,” as you entered the lobby from behind the front desk, your gaze seized to take in the individual the elder was conversing with as your fingers were too busy scooping up the stack of letters, “and to a fella as handsome as you? Well, isn’t she lucky.”

“Well, she just likes to be modest. One of the many qualities I adore about her.” 

Your body instantly froze as the man’s low timbre filled the inn. The shuffling of mail halted as terror shot down your spine.

Slowly raising your panicked eyes, they only seized to grow wider as they glazed over the back-turned individual standing opposite Edith. Shifting his stance, he uncrossed his arms and lowered them to his sides, the crisply up-twisted black button-down sleeves framed in and nearly made it impossible for you not to take in the sight of the recognisable ink that slithered out from under the hem, curled around the honied skin of his forearm and ended right on the back of his ring adorned hand. 

As the letters fell from your grip and casketed over the desk and onto the floor like a fallen jenga tower, the dull commotion managed to catch the pair’s attention as Edith’s hooded eyes trained upon your frozen frame and to your horror, the very reason for you being back here in the first place, turned around as well to spot you. 

“Oh,” a chillingly perfect smile spread across Preston’s lips, “hey, doll,” his tone ever casual as if he’d just talked to you two minutes ago, “there you are.” 

With your heart nearly bursting out of your chest, you didn’t even register that your feet had begun to move before you reached the backdoor out through the sunroom. 

Ripping it open, you sprinted out and over the porch, your speed only increasing as the dewy grass stained your shoes. 

Your eyes were wild, raking across the terrain, franticly attempting to come up with a plan as you went, but swiftly they locked upon where the thick forest began to bloom just beyond the patchy field that stretched between it and the inn’s garden. 

But as you glanced back over your shoulder, the panicked plan of escape withered and died as you spotted your ex marching through the sunroom, his visage clear through the latticed glass of the door. 

Whipping your head around, you spotted the small decrepit tool shed just a few paces to your left. Rushing to the rickety structure, you sucked in a sharp breath as your desperate push to one of the tattered double doors caused the faintest of clangs to reverberate from the rusty dinner bell that decorated the outside as an echo of the past. 

Gingerly shutting the door after you slipped inside, careful as to not evoke any more alarms and ruin your hiding spot, the lack of a lock on the simple doors had completely slipped your memory as your blurry vision stared down at the rudimentary pull handles and nothing else.

Hyperventilating and nearly feeling like you’d faint, you instead pulled over a dust-covered table and pushed it up against the exit, a few screws rattling and rolling off it as it settled in its new place.

Eyes transfixed on the doors, your feet began to back up, not halting till the rough wood of the far side wall stopped you. Reaching into your pocket, you blindly fished out your phone and dialled up the only number you could think of. 

“Hey, I was just about to call you,” Frank’s contrasting tone flowed out from the receiver, “thought I’d maybe swing by when I'm done here in town–…” although his genuine words abruptly ceased as a shuttering cry trembled from your lips, “…Y/n? What’s wrong?”

Your body shook so fiercely that keeping a hold of your phone proved to be a daunting task.  

“F-Frank,” you sobbed. 

“What, what is it?”

“…he’s here. He’s here,” you uttered shakily through your tears, “I walked into the lobby and there he was, I–, fuck…” you squeezed your eyes shut a moment, “Frank, what do I do?”

“Alright, listen to me,” his tone changed in an instant, “did he see you?”

“Y-yes,” you tried your best to keep your voice hushed. 

“Where are you?” 

“I hid in the old shed out back, but, shit, I'm not sure if–” 

Your fear then came to fruition as the doors suddenly rustled, bumping against the makeshift blockade before the attempt was dropped and a low knock instead found your ears. 

“He’s here,” you shuttered, your words barely above a whisper.

“Doll?” Preston’s voice seeped through the rotten wood, “I know that you’re in there,” he tried to shove the doors open once more, the whole world seeming to quake at his attempt. 

Eyes darting around the dim space, you spotted a small broken window to your left. Raising up your elbow, all of the adrenaline that pumped throughout your veins didn’t even let you register the pain as you slammed it against the remaining bits of jagged glass that were stuck to the window, as well as when the remaining short shards stabbed your palms and scratched up the screen of your phone as you desperately began to crawl out. 

“Come on, just open up the door, I don’t have time for any childish games.” 

The sudden sound of the door crashing open and the table scraping across the floor shot straight into your bones. 

Already halfway out, your knee bent up to hoist the remaining half of your shaky form out of the narrow opening, but just as you twisted to do so, a bruising grip grabbed hold of the leg and tugged you back inside, sending you crashing down upon the concrete floor. 

Motes of dust seemed suspended in the air as you coughed on the cold ground. Steadying yourself with your bloodied palms, your hazy vision found your phone by your side, shattered and completely dark. 

Seizing the crown of your locks, he yanked you back up to your feet.

“Now why would you do something like that, huh?” he uttered in such a mundane tone that you’d almost rather have him yell. Dragging you with him towards the doors and still hung agape on the rusty hinges, he grabbed a petite shovel that rested on the messy table and jammed the wooden shaft through the loops of the two handles. Gliding his dominant hand up your frame as he backed you up, the long fingers swiftly enveloped your throat as your back slammed against a wall, “I just wanna have a little conversation with you,” like splintery sandpaper, the rough wood scraped against your spine, and your eyes squeezed shut, “uh uh,” the stinging grip he had on your hair loosened, drifting his knuckles down your cheek in a cruel caress as he demanded, “look at me when I’m talking to you,” your whole frame jerked as you felt him land a harsh slap across your cheek, “show me those pretty eyes,” and your bloodshot glare blinked open, “there,” he wiped the tears that trickled down your face, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” your gaze flickered down to the ominous ink that glazed the appendage clasped around your airway. The head of the snake that decorated the back of his palm nearly looked like it was about to come alive and bite into your jugular vein, “you know, if you wanted to go on a little trip back home, all you had to do was say so, we could have figured something out.” 

Soon, your hands fluttered up to warily drift on either side of his, a shift that caused his jaw to clench. 

“Doll,” he glared down at your lacking jewel, “where’s your ring? Did you misplace it again? If you keep doing that, then I’m just gonna think you don’t like it,” his head tilted to the side in an almost sombre manner, “what, was the diamond not big enough? If you want something more showy, you know all you have to do is ask, money’s just money. Maybe a sapphire? You could look like Princess Diana. Hell, if you want the real thing, I know a guy,” his face slowly inched closer to yours, “I would do anything for you, you know that right?” he proclaimed with an eerie smile upon his lips, “anything, that’s how much I love you. Even if you can’t always wrap your simple little head around the reasoning in the moment,” his free fingers moved to brush some of your dishevelled hair into place, “it’s always because I love you.”

“Preston, please,” your voice was low as you gasped, fretful fingers lightly tapping against his unyielding grip, “you’re hurting me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he warned softly, rage crackling in his fiery gaze, “you don’t do that,” ignoring your struggling, he went back to wistfully fixing your hair, “you just stand there, like the pretty doll you are and be perfect for me.”

“C-can’t breathe–”

“Oh, you can’t?” his brows furrowed mockingly, “is this better?” he asked as his ring-adorned fingers tightened around your throat and squeezed so taut that no air could reach your lungs, “you are mine,” he pressed his lips to your cheek as your eyes fluttered and your limbs fought against the inevitable fate of shortly passing out, “you will always be fucking mine.”

But just as the world began to slip out from under you, a loud crash found your ears. Forcing your eyes to open, you witnessed as the door got kicked in, the improvised lock shattering into shards from the blow and scattering across the dirty ground.

Glaring over his shoulder, Preston exclaimed, “who the fuck are you?” 

Only looming in the doorway for a fragment of a second, Frank didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer as he rushed to rip Preston off of you.

As you crumbled to the ground, painful coughs escaped your frame. The shed still felt like it spun beneath you as your hazy gaze fluttered up to see Frank pin Preston against the wall. As if you were underwater, their voices seemed miles away as you watched Frank’s callused fist repeatedly collide with the side of your ex’s face. 

This wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. Every thunderous crack prompted a dreadful pit to dig itself within your gut. You weren’t doubting that Preston didn’t deserve this, but you had also come to learn a fragment of the truth of just how few of those punches it took for Frank to have an individual no longer breathing.  

Frantically casting your gaze everywhere and anywhere, past the garden, out in the driveway, the faint sight of the sheriff, lunch in hand, tossing his scarf around his neck and strolling back to his car, found your fuzzy vision.

Stumbling, you crawled out the door and weakly pulled yourself up enough to reach the short rope that hung from the old bell, the looming unconsciousness steadily catching up to you as you strained to do so. 

Ringing the bell once, twice, and on the third time, just as you saw Otto whip his head around in your direction, your vision finally faded to complete darkness as you crumbled to the ground. 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[4klovver]

dancing in a jazz bar.

musicteacher!reader asks scienceteacher!matt to go out after work.

a/n: shes long again sorry!! I loved writing this even tho ive never written angst before, theres not much of it but its there!! I feel like I rambled so lmk in the comments Have fun reading hop you enjoy! This is PART 1 so yea! Contains; drinking, kissing, dancing, angst, crying!

wc; 2,270

After weeks of endless coffee runs, hanging out during free periods, sitting with each other in meetings, you finally had a great idea. 

“Let’s go out tonight!” you beam as you sit down. This idea came to you a couple of days ago. Matt was always so clean, no, professional…? You desperately wanted to see a new side of him, and this was just the answer. Matt looks at you weary; you know he’s not the “going out” type, but it’s worth a try. 

“Please, please, it would be so fun. I know his cute little bar with cute tables and a live jazz band.” You pause to look at him, and he’s just staring back at you thinking. “Matt, a live jazz band” You say, looking through your eyelashes at him. 

“Okay, fine. But I would still be in my work clothes.” He points down to his light blue button-down that’s rolled up to his elbows, and his dark work pants. 

“Matt, we’re going to a jazz bar; this is fine. I have to see if I have something else; this isn’t really ‘bar’.” You gesture to your frumpy sweater and work jeans. “I usually have concert stuff in my office…” the sentence trails off as you think about what you have. 

“I think what you’re wearing looks great; I don’t see a problem with this.” He says this so matter-of-factly like it’s  a fact in one of his biology textbooks. It makes you blush, and you don’t know how to hide it, so you just turn away. 

“Thanks, Matt, but I think I’m gonna change; meet me outside of my room after school, okay?” You pack up your stuff as you say this, and Matt gives you a small nod. You were excited; a night of drinking in a dimly lit jazz bar, maybe some dancing, with a cute guy. What else could a girl really ask for!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 

You did, in fact, change. It was a black halter dress with light blue embroidered flowers on it. It was casual enough to look like a coincidence. Even though you did bring this dress to school 2 weeks ago just in case this very plan worked out. 

“You did change; you look…” He trails off, not being able to find the words as you gather your purse and touch up your lip gloss. 

You turn to him smiling; he also changed. He’s now wearing a white button-down shirt with a black tie. It’s not a huge change, but he looks…different; maybe it’s the sun setting, but everything about this is different. “Wow, thank you, Matt. I see you also changed.” You look into his eyes and you can’t help but blush. You turn away, walking towards the door. 

“This is just my parent-teacher conference shirt. I keep it in my room…” He looks down, smoothing his shirt down, fixing his tie, and clearing his throat. 

“This place isn’t that far. It’s only a couple of blocks.” You two walk together, shoulder to shoulder, fingers brushing together slightly as you walk, but no one moves. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 

You walk into the bar, taking your jackets off, brushing off the cold of Boston. The place was already buzzing with people talking and dancing. The band was already there. The minute you walk in, you immediately get a burst of confidence, becoming your usual energetic self. 

“Okay, common, let’s sit!” You are beaming with energy. You’ve been in the place for all of 5 minutes, and it’s already one of the funnest nights. You grab his wrist, leading him to a booth near the back. Smooth jazz is spilling into all the cracks of the bar. 

“This place is so…you.” Matt says, looking around at the place. The dim lighting, the thrifted and collected decor. 

You grin at his comment. “Yeah, I used to be a regular here a lot during uni. Actually, one of my old scores from there is hanging somewhere here.” You gesture to the many piled-on decorations all around the bar. 

“Good evening, guys! I’m Jillian. I’ll be your waitress. Can I get ya’ started on anything?” She comes over, notepad in hand, smiling at the two of you. 

“Hi, I’ll just take a vodka cran’ on the rocks.” You smile at her again while she writes down your order. “And for you, sir?” 

“Uhh, I’ll just take a whisky, neat.” He looks at you at the end of his order, like he was getting approval from you. “Okay, I’ll get those right away!” Your waitress leaves with a smile, and you look at Matt, resting your cheek in your hand. 

“What?” he says, turning his head to look at you. 

“What? Oh, nothing. Just that you like…whisky.” You say the drink name like it’s foreign to you.

“Well, even your drinks are grossly sweet.” He looks like he automatically relaxes when you speak. 

“Grossly sweet, pfft, even your drinks are bitter.” You lean into the small table, making the gap smaller between the two of you. He scoffs and does the same. The two of you looking at each other, not a hint of awkwardness in the air. 

“Okay, I got a vodka cran and a whiskey neat.” The waitress places the drinks down on the table. Your rings clicking against the cup of vodka tickling your tongue while sipping your drink. 

He leans back in his part of the booth while sipping his drink. All you can do is stare at him while sipping your drink and crossing your legs, taking in the scene. 

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or your confidence, but you lean back into the table, putting your drink down. “Hey Matt,” you say whispering. “What?” He grins, leaning into your foreheads almost touching. “We should go dance.” You look at the dance floor, the band playing ‘Come Live With Me’ by Marvin Gaye. “I’m not really a dancer—” before he could finish, you’re dragging him to the dance floor. “Shut up, just dance!” 

For a moment, you two are just standing hand in hand, swaying side to side to side, looking into each other’s eyes, but then Matt pulls you in closer, closing the gap between you and pressing your bodies together. The dance floor was packed with couples, but it couldn’t matter at all; it’s like you were the only ones there. Matt leads you to sway at the beat of the music, your hand making its way to the back of his neck. 

“I’ve never seen this side of you before, Matt…I like it,” you whisper into his ear, leaning into him more. 

“You bring out some side in me, y/n. I can’t explain it.” He pulls away, looking at you like there are words left unsaid. 

The rest of the night was filled with dancing and drinks flowing. Every time you would be dancing, Matt would just give you this look. It makes your face heat up and your stomach hurt. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 

You walk out of the bar. The moon is already out, the cold air making your face sting. 

You turn toward Matt, sucking on your teeth, smiling. “Matt, I had a really fun time tonight. I haven’t had one like this in a while.” You step closer to him, grabbing his hand. “I’ve never experienced something like this. You are just so… amazing.” 

“Oh, you and your compliments,Matt. Well, I guess I should be going home now.” The last sentence is slow, hinting at something more. 

“Y/n, I can’t let you walk home alone this late. Please let me walk you.” He follows after you, walking by your side. “Well, if you insist.” You don’t try to hide your happiness at the fact that you get to spend more time with him. All he does is huff out a laugh at your comment as you walk down the busy street. 

“I can’t believe my feet don’t hurt. I danced so much…” You two start making small talk again while walking, getting into a rhythm. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 

The normally long walk felt ridiculously short once you got to your door. All you want to do is take matters into your own apartment and talk all night and spend your morning with him. He makes you feel some weird type of way you’ve never felt before, like you could say something crazy, but at the end of the day, he will still be there. You don’t know how to ever thank him for becoming someone so constant in your life. 

Before you get your keys out, you turn to Matt, looking at him. You step towards him, and he doesn’t the same. Only inches between your faces. You can hear the first song you danced to in the back of your head. You think, ‘This is it. I have to do it.’  

You lean into him, hesitant for a moment but evidently closing the gap between the two of your lips, touching. His unsure hands come up to your waist as yours reach his face; he leans into the kiss, his tongue finding its way into your mouth. The two of you get into a rhythm. 

When you pull away to catch your breath, chest moving up and down, you look up at him with a smile. You can’t read his face; the dim light coming from the moon casting a shadow on his face. You lean in for another kiss, but he abruptly stops, making you confused. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I can’t, not like this. I-“ He fidgets with his hands nervously. His words barely register in your brain; all you know is that you need to get out of there. 

“Oh, I see. Goodnight, Matt.” You swiftly open your door, tears forming in your eyes. Embarrassment makes your chest hurt. You close the door in his face, not caring to hear another word. You feel gross; you dressed up all nice, put yourself out there just to get rejected. 

Matt stayed outside of your apartment for 5 minutes, listening to you move around your apartment. Hearing you cry made him feel horrible, but he’s never done this before. He’s scared, so the best thing for him to do in his mind is give you space. As much as you need, and if you never talk to him again. He’ll understand. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･  

You get in the shower, washing off the sweat and makeup. Cold water hitting your skin sobering you up. You grab some ice cream and a spoon and sit in your bed, watching trashy reality TV shows. You look around your room at the decorations, the music, your clothing, and all you can think about is the fact that Matt wouldn’t enjoy this. Maybe you thought he enjoyed your loud clothes and crass personality, but he’s the exact opposite of you, and you need to accept that. 

a/n: ahhhh hope you guys enjoyed hopefully I didn't leave you too sad. Please leave some love on the post <3 have a wonderful day bye byebye

more scienceteacher!matt x musicteacher!reader here

[crowentity233]

The Dragon's Keep (part 6)

*Finished*

Fire Lord Zuko x (Fem!) Reader

Part 1. Masterlist

You are a firebender named Ayushi, who has been accepted to guard over the royal family. You end up guarding Zuko through his travels to visit the sun warriors. The mission, protecting the newest dragons, begins.

Warning: this is 18+ AF. Be aware. It gets descriptive. It starts at the cut so there you go. Just want to mention the dragon is Canon if you haven't seen Korra. It felt OP but it's Canon so whatever.

Your bare skin etched in Zuko's thoughts. He did look away but dared to glance. You were turned towards him unlike every other time before. "Zuko, which one should I wear?" You asked, holding up the outfits. One was the commoner outfit, and the other was a firenation elite design. He looked up, seeing your top still gone. Your body was only shielded by the clothes you were holding out.

"That one." He pointed to the firenation design he pulled his bottom lip in thinking of anything but you wearing the clothes you held. He stood up and walked to his bag. Grabbing his armor that was packed away. "Can you fasten this?" He had his armor pulled over his shoulders. You held your shirt in your arm. It hadn't made its way covering you yet.

You stepped closer to Zuko. He turned his strong bicep to you so you could fasten the shoulder guard. You press your hand on his bare chest, guiding him to the other side to fasten the other arm. Your fingers trailed his chiseled chest. Your eyes lifted to his. His fingertips slipped down to your waist. His hands were warm against your skin. The wall pressed against your back that you hadn't realized he had guided you to. His innocent nature that was wholesome and pure was tossed away. The man with power and strength stood in front of you. You were weak, defenseless against all the power he held.

He leaned closer, glancing from your lips to your eyes, fire burned within them. The torches lighting the room burned brighter, hotter than they did just a few moments before. His hips were pressed against yours.  Your legs ached, begging for this new man in front of you. Your hand fell to his shoulder.

The room became an inferno. The flames between you had become uncontrollable. Your lips met his suddenly. His hands lifted your legs, pulling you from the ground. His lips melted against yours. You knew there was no redemption from this indulgence in pleasure. You held yourself against him. Your chest enmeshed with his. No fabric to stop the senses. His scar was rough against your skin. It was a reminder of who you were with, the man with the most power in the nation.

He pulled his lips from yours and kissed down your jaw. You both played with fire as his name glided softly from your lips. His lips returned to yours, then pulled away. His tongue slowly pulled at your neck to your ear. "Say it again." He whispered, then bit down softly on your neck. You gasped is complete shocking bliss. "Zuko." You said a little louder than before. His hand traveled up your leg, holding your hip. Your body was pressed so close to his you could feel him craving you. You kissed his neck, wanting nothing more than to finish by the man that was built like a God.

A knock sounded at the door again. "Lord Zuko, we have docked." He pushed his lips to yours one last time. "Are you ready to see the dragons?" He spoke hesitantly. The entire reason and passion for the trip suddenly took a back seat in your mind. "Yeah." You said softly. Your mind weighted on questions, for starters, what that was and what it meant for you?

You both broke apart, and your body felt cold without him. You got dressed, hoping it would bring warmth back.

You both were dressed. He held out his hand. "You can leave your stuff here. The ship is staying here for our return." You grabbed his hand and walked down the hall, and up the stairs, the deck was bright. You looked around once your eyes adjusted and saw the air temple.

You walked down the ramp, meeting the sand. Zuko turned back to the general. "Stay here until we get back. We will be back tonight."

"Yes, Lord Zuko." The general bowed.

You both began your walk through the jungle. You walked through as zuko sliced at vines, creating a path. You followed close behind. The sun was in the middle of the sky. "When we get there, you have to watch for traps, so don't go off without me."

"I didn't plan on it..." You paused. "Zuko, what Hua told me was true... wasn't it?"

He slashed a few more vines. Despite the scene that they just participated in, he still wasn't prepared for the rejection that he always seemed to face. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you just... we just..." You struggled to speak of the heavy actions that had just unfolded within the last hour.

"I never told her anything, so I don't know how she would have known." He cut the last vine. He stepped aside and held a tree limb for you to go ahead. You stepped through the path. You saw a clearing full of old ruins. The site was incredible. You stared at the walls and old buildings. It looked so familiar and yet so foreign. In the distance, there was a set of tall towers. Zuko stood beside you and wrapped an arm around your waist. Your gaze lifted to his eyes. He looked over the site and then down to you. He leaned down, lifting your chin. His lips met yours in a much softer kiss then before. He lifted his head, looking back over the land.

"She was right. I don't know how she knew, but she did." He spoke, walking down a path.

You kept walking and felt a wire. you pulled Zuko back. "Wire." You said pointing to the extended wire. You both stepped over and continued on the path. You both got to an opening in the path. A group was ahead. You both passed by a wall that was painted. "Dragons?" You spoke breathlessly. the paintings had taken your breath away.

"That's what you'll be doing." Zuko pointed to the firebender in the middle of the blaze.

"I'm finally going to meet them."

Zuko nodded. "Let's go. You have to meet an old friend first."

You walked towards the group. "Lord Zuko, it is nice to see you again. I see you are breaking your promise with a guest."

Zuko nodded. "This is Ayushi. She is a Kyoshi warrior, She is a firebender who keeps the closest watch over my family. I think it would be best if she learns from the masters to better defend me and my family. She has proven herself worthy in my palace."

The chief nodded. "Then I hope that the masters see her worthy as well. Follow me." He instructed.

He stood in front of a fire. "This is the eternal Flame. It was a gift from the masters long ago. You will take these flames up to the top, and you will present them to the masters. That's when they will judge you."

You held out your hands. Zuko held out his. He placed the flame in both sets of palms. "Burn it too small it will die out, burn it too big, you will lose control. Follow the path." He pointed to the path, and you began balancing the flame within your hand.

The chief went around the opposite path. The sun warriors gathered around. When you both arrived, you saw all the warriors gather around. You held your flame and stood in front of the stairs. The drums bellowed in the surrounding air. You both walked up the stairs, meeting each other's backs at the top. "Remember we do the firebending form when they come out."

Your eyes were glazed over. The emotions swirled around fear of being deemed not worthy, the honor of being in the presence of such amazing creatures that you dreamed about.

The loud horn sounded, calling the masters you gasped as the dragons began circling around the pillar. Your eyes followed them as best you could.

"Ready?" Zuko asked you both, held your flames, and took the first stance. The flames stay controlled. You both did each stance the sacred flames grew but under control. The dragons followed each movement with ease. You both took the final stance, and the flame vanished and then appeared back in your hand. The dragons connected to the pillar eyeing you both from the side. You fell to your knees and held the flame to the dragon. Zuko followed your led and fell to his knee behind you, bowing to the creatures.

The dragons blew a blaze around. The spiral was adorned with a rainbow of color.

You lifted your eyes, and each color spoke wisdom to you flashes of meaning in each color. The flames spiraled up, disappearing. A flash of red flew overhead. A small dragon landed at the base of the pillar, landing in front of the stairs. You stood up, and Zuko grabbed your hand, walking you down the steps. You looked up at Zuko quizzically. He had the same look. You both reached the bottom, staring into the eyes of a creature that was smaller than the two that completed the ceremony. The creature was still large. You both bowed to the dragon. The dragon bowed back.

He leaned his head down. Zuko reached out and placed his hand gently. the dragon accepted him. You reached your hand out, and the dragon accepted your touch. Your lips curled into a smile. The chief spoke up. "Zuko, this is Druk. It is your responsibility now to care for him. Ran and Shaw have chosen you to look after him. Druk is now bonded with you." Zuko nodded, accepting the responsibility. "Druk seems to like Ayushi. She's not just your guard, is she." The chief asked. Zuko looked back and saw Druk wrapping his neck over your shoulder in a dragon's form of hug.

"She's more than that." Zuko smiled fondly as the dragon bonded with you.

"You are free to leave with him. Keep him safe." The chief warned.

The dragon laid down. You looked at Zuko, unsure of what to do. Zuko climbed onto the dragon. He held his hand out, and you mounted the dragon holding tight to Zuko. The dragon stood tall and flapped its wings, taking off into the sky. You had never been so high up. Your eyes widened, seeing the trees become so small. You both saw the ship, and Zuko guided him to the ships deck. You both landed, and the soldiers were stunned by such a magnificent creature.

"General. Take us home. Protect Druk at all cost. Shoot on site, and if anyone brings harm to this dragon. I will mount your head in my palace along with the dragons my father murdered." Zuko spat at the soldiers. They bowed the Zuko. "Yes, Lord Zuko." The sun was disappearing under horizon. Zuko slid off the dragon. You slid down.  Zuko caught you in his arms. He put you down to the ground gently. You rubbed the dragon one last time. Druk laid down on the deck,  curling up. Zuko patted the dragon and grabbed your hand. He led you down the stairs. "We will be back at the palace by morning."

"I just met dragons. Zuko, there is a dragon on this ship." Your mind boggled about the idea.

"Yeah, there is." He smiled proudly.

He wrapped his hands on your waist. He gripped tightly, pulling you into him and kissing you. The fire seemed to burn bright again. You pulled away breathless. "You are amazing. Thank you for making my dreams come true."

Zuko smiled, kissing your cheek. "I would have done it a long time ago had I known it was your dream."

You kissed him gently. "We need to rest before we get home. We've got explaining to do. Would you like a bedtime story?" You giggled out at the thought that everything happened because of stories you both had heard as children.

"I can think of a few things I want that don't involve stories." His low voice taunted. He gripped at your waist, pulling you in again.

Your hands tangled in his hair. His lips glided along yours. His tongue teasing yours. You both were equally craving. Your hands slowly lifted his clothes away. Your hand pressed against his chest. He trailed to your neck.

"I'm yours." You whispered softly. His hands ripped fabric that stood in his way. Your skin warmed by his touch. It felt as warm as it did during the morning. His touch was passionate, and the warmth sank into you, traveling down your body. You wanted his everything. You tossed the scraps of silk that was once a top to the floor. His eyes connected with yours, his pupils dilating at the sight of how perfect you looked. You were in complete submission. He didn't always love the power he held, but this power was his favorite. He had complete control of your body of your pleasure how much and how little you were allowed.

Zuko lifted you from the ground, tossing you on the bed with ease. Your pants slid away from your body, exposing how wet you had become from his teasing. He took his time traveling his large hands down your curves. His lips melted into your collarbone. Your back arched as he left kisses down your breasts. Licking and sucking every sensitive area. "Zuko," you gasped.

All of his clothes were tossed to the floor. He laid down beside you, guiding your body on top of his. His arousal was tempting you. There was nothing between you. Your hips rocked back and forth, teasing him. You leaned down, kissing him gently.

Zuko ran his hand through your hair softly, pulling you toward him. He pulled away. "You know what I want. Give it to me."

"Yes, Lord Zuko." You hummed against his lips. You guided him into you. You tightened at the sudden sensation. Your teeth clinched at how big he was. He filled you in the best way. You rolled your hips. He pushed you to sit up. He held the back of his neck, propping himself up in the best position to watch you. His other hand held your thigh, and he squeezed when you hit all the right places.

You lifted up and down, riding him. He bit his lip as you sped up. His biceps were flexing, showing his strong build. Your hand gripped the headboard for stability. Your other hand pressed against his chiseled abs. Your hand slid over the rough scar.

He pulled you back down, crashing his lips to yours. Zuko kissed down your jaw. "You look so good. You're such a good girl pleasing me." He pushed you down to your back. He kissed down your body his tongue pressed against your clit. Your body felt pure bliss pulse through your veins. He teased you flicking his tongue slowly. "Please." You spoke so softly, begging for more. He sped up bringing you closer to the edge. Your gasps and moans echoed off the metal walls. Your back arched from the sensitivity.

He pulled away and lifted back up kissing you. His lips were sweet and so hypnotic. He slid himself back into you. He pressed into you. Your hand cupped his cheeks you felt the scar on his cheek it was smooth having been there much longer the the newer one on his chest. His jawline was sharp in your palm. His lips glided into yours as he thrusted into you. He lifted himself back up and thrusted harder and faster. He groaned feeling how tight you were. Your hand fell down rubbing your clit as he was furfilling his pleasure.

Your moans became louder. He knew you were close. He kept the pace it was bringing him closer as you squeezed tighter. You slowly came undone under him. "Zuko!" You screamed as the satisfaction coarsed through your body. Euphoria settled in your body swirling around. His peak followed, and his euphoria swirled into yours. You both rode out the sensation. He pulled out cum dripping out of you. He laid down next to you. You both tried catching your breath. He wrapped his arm around you pulling you in kissing you softly. You pulled the covers over you and you both entangled together comfortably falling asleep happily. Everything was perfect.

The prince and dragon you had dreamed of turned out to be real.

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