#and when it's time to start preparing to say goodbye

[absurdthirst]

Materialistic Love {Harry Castillo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 17.7k

Warnings: Unbalanced power dynamics, boss/assistant relationship, Harry's an idiot, self-consciousness, self image issues, sex, oral (male and female receiving), unresolved feelings, jealousy, Harry is the romantic he pretends to be, heartbreak, break ups, anger, confrontation, fighting in the streets, making love, confessions, marriage

Comments: Harry's assistant before he had that surgery, you managed to have one night together before he seemingly brushes you aside. Making you watch as he starts to court Lucy.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Harry Castillo MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Castillo Private Equities, Harry Castillo’s office, how may I help you?” Despite advanced technology, the availability to reach anyone at any time on their cell phone, plenty of clients still preferred to call into the office. Finding comfort in having a secretary, or in your case - executive assistant, field their phone calls. You don’t mind it, it’s a part of your job. One of the many hats you wear. “Can I speak with Harry? It’s Tom.” You recognize the older man’s voice and smile. He calls nearly everyday, driving Harry crazy since he retired and more time on his hands. “Let me see if he’s available, Mr. Feldman.” You wait for him to agree to be put on hold before buzzing into Harry’s office. “Mr. Castillo, Mr. Feldman is on line one for you.” Your voice cuts into the large office overlooking downtown Manhattan and your boss groans. “Not again,” he sighs, making you stifle a giggle. “Put him through and then come in here. I need to go over the schedule for this weekend.”

Right. His brother’s wedding. You forward the call to Harry’s desk and pick up your tablet to slip into his office, preparing to make notes and assure him that everything is ready.

“Mr. Feldman. How are you?” Harry says when he picks up the phone, his patience for the older man is waning but he reminds himself of the money and that makes him plaster on a smile so it can be heard down the phone. “Harry, how are you? Heard Peter is getting married this weekend. That’s excellent news. When will I be hearing about you settling down? Or are you playing the field like I did back in the day?” Tom chuckles and Harry offers him a polished laugh, “I’m still looking. You’ll be the first to know when I find her.” He promises just as you walk into his office and he raises his eyebrows, playfully rolling his eyes and you stifle your giggle. You come to sit down in the plush leather chair opposite his desk while Harry puts the phone on speaker so you can take notes.

You cross your legs and there’s a moment where you swear that Harry’s eyes flicker down but he’s swiveling around to stare out of the large wall of windows. Tom starts to talk about the investment he’s considering, making you take notes and nod along quickly as he talks about his fears and hopes. You study Harry, wondering what he is thinking about as he encourages the older man.

Harry exhales when he says goodbye to Tom, glad to keep the call shorter than normal. “I gotta get that man into some hobbies.” He comments, setting the Montblanc pen down. “So what’s the schedule for the wedding?” He asks, knowing he can rely on you to tell him what has been planned when he’s not really been involved in the wedding apart from the bachelor trip and his best man speech.

“Your tuxedo will be picked up this afternoon from the tailor.” You tell him, going through your list. “The navy blue Armani is back from the dry cleaner, that’s for the rehearsal dinner.” You scroll down the screen. “Rehearsal is at 4. Then a cocktail hour followed by dinner at 6. Your brother has set up an after party at the penthouse. You are encouraged to attend as best man.” Your eyes flicker up to him and then back down at your screen. “The morning of the wedding there is a brunch scheduled with your parents at 10. I picked your black Tom Ford with a light pink shirt and maroon pocket square for that.”

Harry doesn’t know what he’d do without you. You run his life, his closet, and he doesn’t know how he’d handle his life without you. You run every aspect of it. “Remind me to elope if I ever get married.” He teases, “Peter is nervous. Thinks he’s gonna mess this up somehow.” He says, “do you think you could talk to him?” He asks teasingly, “you know exactly what to do in every thing else.” He smirks at you, twiddling the pen in his hand. “What are you gonna do while the wedding is happening? Take the day off?”

“A day where I’m not running a million errands for you? Absolutely.” You snort, shooting him a playful grin. “I’m going to go from my bed to my tub and then back to my bed.” You try not to think about Harry and a bed, because that was something that has long since been forgotten. “I have a hot date with Netflix and maybe some take out.”

He chuckles, “put the take out on my card. And anything else. You deserve a day off. Me? I’ll be putting on my best face to be happy for Peter.” He tilts his head, “I’m gonna deal with my parents telling me I need to get married for a few months after the wedding. That’s why my mom put me at the singles table.” He rolls his eyes and sets the pen down.

There’s a flash of bitterness, of hurt, but you bury it behind a commiserating smile. “Perhaps you will meet someone.” You encourage. “Peter met Charlotte through that service.” You remind him. “And now he’s getting married.”

Harry snorts, “I’m not at that stage.” He confesses, “maybe once I see him married I’ll change my mind but I want to meet someone organically.” He says, “I am not in a rush. My mom is. I’m not.” He chuckles softly, “oh can you book that sushi place for tomorrow? I’m going to dinner with Darren, he wants to meet to talk about his investments.”

“Absolutely.” You keep your face polite and neutral as you make a note. “7 o’clock?” You ask, knowing that is when he prefers to eat dinner. You also know that he will want a bottle of sake immediately brought to the table. Little things that make his life easier, that’s the entirety of your job. “Should I pull the current portfolio and have it sent to your apartment tomorrow afternoon so you don’t misplace it?”

Harry smiles at you, tilting his head, “what would I do without you? Yes, that would be excellent. I need to talk to him about this dentistry practice in Tribeca that wants to expand and needs the funds.” He says and you make a note of that. “Done and done.” You reassure him, standing up after he turns towards his computer. “Oh and can you order something for my parents? It’s their anniversary next month.” He says as you make your way towards the door. “Neimans or Saks?” You ask and he turns to look at you, eyes flickering from the screen, “whatever you think. You know exactly what I like.”

You do. 

****

You groan, pulling Harry closer and letting his tongue flick against yours as your hand slides under his jacket and the warm cashmere sweater to touch the broad expanse of his back. Unable to believe that this is finally happening. The long days and nights spent together boiling over where he is pressing you against the wall of his apartment and ravaging your mouth.

He groans as he kisses you, his hands sliding down your back until he is squeezing your ass, pulling you against him. “Fuck, I have thought about this so many times.” He confesses, bumping into the wall as he guides you towards his bedroom. Your shoes are left on the floor, his kicked off a moment later and you push his jacket from his shoulders. “Baby, tell me I can touch you.” He pleads, kissing along your neck.

“Yessss.” Your head tilts back, fingers threaded through his hair and your core is already dripping with arousal. “Wanted you for so long. Touch me.” You beg. “Let me touch you.” You reach for the edge of his sweater and push it up, ducking down to kiss up his stomach and across his chest. He’s so fucking attractive. Yes, he’s shorter than some men, but it doesn’t bother you.

“Fuck.” He groans at your kisses and grips the hem of his sweater to pull it over his head, exposing his upper body to your hungry eyes. His fingers fumble to find the zipper of your dress, needing it off so he can see you like he’s secretly imagined since you started working for him. “Can I?” He asks when you kiss his collarbone and you nod, letting him drag the zipper down just as you stumble into his bedroom.

You giggle, euphoric that both of you are so eager for this. “God, yes.” You whimper, loving the feeling of his large hands on your bare skin as he peels the dress back. “Fuck,” your fingers fumble with the thick, Italian leather belt you had bought him last year when you were on that trip with him to Milan. You love when he wears it. “I- I can’t-“ you huff, too eager to be patient.

Harry smirks, pleased that you clearly want him as much as he wants you. He’d be lying to himself if he said he hasn’t thought about this since the moment his mother hired you. He chuckles and bats your hands away so he can remove his belt, tossing it across the room and your fingers immediately fumble with his pants, his cock hard and pressing against the zipper of his pants. “Baby, shit.” He grunts when you squeeze him and his hands slide up your back to find the clasp of your bra, just as eager to have you naked.

It’s a flurry of clothes and hands. Kisses with teeth and tongue. Both of you craving what the other can give you. You somehow end up on top of him after you’ve tumbled to the bed, breasts pressed against his chest and his arms are solid around you. “Let me.” You nip his bottom lip before you start to kiss down his body, smirking when he inhales raggedly because he’s guessed what you’re gonna do.

"Shit. Honey, you don't have to do that." He murmurs, watching you as you kneel between his legs. "Fuck." He pants when you hook your fingers in his briefs and pull them down his thighs so his cock springs free to rest on his belly. The head is already leaking and the sight of you between his legs is almost too much to take.

You hum as you wrap your fingers around the surprisingly long cock. You knew he was thick, but you had expected him to be average in length. “Baby, I want to. Imagined doing this more than once and I know you want it.” You tease before you lower your head and take the tip of his cock into your mouth.

He groans, eyes fluttering closed until he forces them open so he can watch you. “Jesus.” He grunts, watching as you take him deeper into your mouth, your jaw stretching wider. You moan around him and he loves it, loves watching you as you seem to enjoy sucking his dick. “So good. You look so pretty.”

You doubt that. No one ever looks pretty if they are really sucking a dick. You take him deeper, groaning around his length as his thighs tense and he reaches down to caress your cheek. Your eyes meet his and you love how dark they are are. How expressive they are.

He pants, “fuck. Imagined this so many times.” He confesses, “way more than I should’ve.” He slides his hand down to your jaw, “I don’t wanna cum down your throat, sweetheart.” He confesses, “but you are gonna make me if you keep it up. It’s been too long.”

You would let him, but you pull off his cock with a popping sound and a cocky smirk. “It would have been alright if you did.” You promise, kissing back up his body.

He sighs, wrapping his arm around your waist and he rolls you over so he is hovering over you. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours until he starts to kiss down your body. “I. Want. To. Taste. You.” He murmurs between kisses until he takes your nipple into his mouth.

“Harry.” Your eyes flutter closed and you whimper again as he suckles. Your hands slide against the silk sheets, your pussy clenching around nothing. “Fuck, baby, you- you don’t have to-“ you promise. “I’m soaking wet.”

“I want to. Imagined it enough times.” He groans, kissing down your stomach and he pushes your thighs apart. He groans at the sight of your glistening folds and you whimper when he inhales your heady scent. “Wanna taste you.” He groans as he dives in to slide his tongue through your folds.

“Oh fuck.” You moan loudly, surprised that he wants to do this. You had honestly expected him to be a little more of a taker than a giver. Not that you mind at all. Your thighs clench down around his head and your hips rock up to his mouth. “God, baby.”

He loves the way you moan, your thighs squeezing his head, and he flings his arm over your body, needing to feel more of you so he lifts your thigh up onto his shoulder. His tongue flicks over your clit, needing to hear you moan his name again.”You’re so good.”

He chuckles into your folds, “I try to be.” He smirks and dives back in, sucking on your clit until he slides his tongue lower so he can push it into your cunt. “You’re gorgeous.” He murmurs against your folds, nudging his nose against your clit.

You whimper his name, fingers twisting into the sheets. It’s been so goddamn long since someone has touched you and this is amazing. Lifting your head, you look down to see his perfect curls framed between your thighs as he tongue fucks you.

You whimper his name and his cock twitches against the silk sheets. The way you tangle your fingers in his hair moments later has him grinding against the mattress. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” You murmur dreamily and he grunts, needing to feel it.

He’s trying to drive you crazy and he’s good at it. The sounds this man makes as he devours your pussy has your thighs shaking. “Dear God.” Your free hand cups a breast and you tilt your hips up. “I’m so close.”

He needs you to cum on his face. His hands squeezing your thighs as he silently orders you to cum for him. When you fall apart, he groans, eagerly lapping at your slick and he fucking loves how you taste, unable to get enough of it.

It’s like you are floating in the clouds, the pleasure making you sigh as he works you down. Your fingers softly ruffling his hair as he laps at you. “I want you inside me.” You confess, smiling blissfully at him.

He grins, kissing your thigh, and he shifts to hover over you. “You want me inside of you, baby?” He murmurs, kissing along your neck until he’s kissing your lips. “Condom.” He murmurs, reaching for the nightstand.

You watch as he opens the foil packet, moving to his knees so he can roll the rubber down his cock carefully. Pumping himself a few times as he caresses your thigh. “Are you sure?” He asks, biting his lip. You smile and nod, reaching for him to drag him down to you.

He grunts, gripping his cock to guide himself to your pussy and he starts to slowly push into you. “You’re fucking perfect.” He murmurs, kissing your jaw as he stretches you out on his cock. “So good for me.” He mutters, lost in the feel of you.

You moan, legs restless as they rub against his. Needing to move as he fills you and stretches you out. It’s been awhile since you’ve had sex, breaking a very long dry spell. “So good.” You promise, chasing his lips down for a kiss.

He slides his tongue into your mouth, starting to rock into you. He’s slow, wanting to savor this moment and help you adjust to him. “God, you feel good.” He murmurs against yours.

Your arms and legs wrap around him as you start to slowly rock with him. Humming in approval at the slow, thorough way he fills you up before slowly pulling back. “You are perfect.” You promise breathlessly.

You whine, loving how he is moving inside you. “Harry.” You moan breathlessly. “More.” You beg. “Wanted this for so long.”

Your nails dig into his back and he fucking loves it. Groaning your name, he buries his face in your neck and continues to rock into you. “Fuck, me too. You feel so damn good, baby.”

It feels like everything is suspended around you. Nothing exists beyond this bed. Your phone buzzes somewhere in your purse, but you don’t even hear it. You wouldn’t even care if you did. All you care about is the way he feels inside you. His cock pushing against your walls and spearing into you with measured, determined thrusts. He’s pacing himself, and you, but you want him to just give you everything right now. “Harder.” You beg, kissing along his shoulder. “Fuck baby, I love it.”

He wants to take his time, slowly fuck you and he wants to fuck you hard, hear you scream his name. He’s torn but when you beg for him to go harder, he obliges. His hand squeezing your thigh to push it back into your stomach as he rocks into you faster, harder. Skin slapping skin.

Your moan turns into a squeal, gasping as he pushes deep. Your fingers claw into his shoulders as he works in and out of you. It’s heavy, thrilling and every time your pussy clenches around him, you want more.

He adjusts his hips, needing you to scream for him, and he knows when he finds the right spot when you cry out in pleasure. “That’s it, baby. That’s it.” He groans, “need you to cum for me. Wanna feel it. Tell me what you need.”

“More.” You pant out, barely able to get the word out. Holding on for dear life. “Close.” You promise, feeling the frantic way that he is pounding into you. It’s perfect. His hips shift up and you let out a choked cry, eyes widening in surprise when he spears up against something wonderful.

When you cry out, he fucking loves it. He focuses on that spot again until finally, you fall apart beneath him. He groans, pressing his lips to yours to swallow your cries of pleasure, and he continues to fuck you through it. “That’s it, sweetheart. Shit. You feel so good.” He murmurs against your lips.

You might have just ruined his silk sheets but you don’t even care. Panting into his mouth, you love how dark eyes eyes are. How needy they are, filled with a sense of pride that he made you come apart. “Your turn.” You grin and kiss him again.

He smirks, “wanna see you ride me.” He grunts, shifting you to straddle him and his cock falls from your dripping pussy. “Ride me. Wanna watch you and wanna cum inside you like that.” He demands, slapping your ass as you drape yourself over him.

You giggle quietly and lean over and press your lips to his as you reach between your body to wrap your fingers around his cock. Lifting your hips to position him at your entrance again. “You want to watch my tits bounce?”

You giggle quietly and lean over and press your lips to his as you reach between your body to wrap your fingers around his cock. Lifting your hips to position him at your entrance again. “You want to watch my tits bounce?”

He nods, hands sliding up to cup your tits as you slide back down onto his cock. “Fuck. You look so pretty like this.” He murmurs, caressing your skin until he pinches your nipples. Loving how you clench around his cock. “Fuck. Love that.”

You moan, tilting your head back and leaning back so your hands are braced on his legs. Letting him see every inch of you. Knowing that his eyes are focused on where your pussy is taking his cock. “Love how you feel.”

He groans, his hands shifting to caress your thighs as you rock yourself on his cock. “Shit, sweetheart.” He hisses when you clench around him and his hand slides up until he is pressing his thumb against your clit.

“Oh shit.” You hiss, biting your lip but a full throated moan breaks free. He fucks like a man who is intent on making the woman in his bed crawl away from it and beg to be let back in. “God.” You whimper, starting to bounce on his cock in harmony with the circling of his thumb.

His thumb continues to rub your clit, needing you to cum for him one more time. He wants to hear it, see it. “You look so good riding my dick. I love it. Fuck, wanna see it every damn day. I want to see you cum again, baby. Give it to me.” He demands, shifting his legs to plant his feet on the mattress so he can thrust up into you.

“Harry!” You squeal out his name, lurching forward to brace your hands on his chest as he starts to fuck you again. His thumb is still circling the swollen nub above where he is drilling up inside you. “God baby, I’m gonna cum.” You promise, thighs burning and shaking until you are crying out and collapsing into him for a frantic kiss as you soak his cock.

He groans into your mouth, unable to hold back anymore. He wraps his arms around you, thrusting up into you. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum.” He grunts, “I can’t - shit - can’t hold off. Fuck. I- you’re - shit.” He growls as he thrusts up into you, spilling info the condom.

You love how wrecked he looks. Kissing along his jaw and over his sharp and distinguished nose that you have admired since you met him. “You’re so perfect.” You giggle, stroking his jaw and pressing your lips to his softly. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

He nudges his nose against yours, gently rolling you to the side so he can slowly pull out of you while securing the condom. “Me neither.” He murmurs, watching you settle back against his pillows as he ties off the condom and gets up to dispose of it in the bathroom. He stares at himself in the mirror, eyes wide and hair mussed and he wonders if he did the right thing.

After he pads into the bathroom, you stare at the ceiling. Giggling to yourself as the warm, fucked out feeling settled into your body. Heart slowing back down and your blissful sense of euphoria absorbing back into your system. “Wow.” You hum, wrapping your arm over your breast and sit up, keeping the sheet pinned over you.

Harry comes back into the bedroom, grabbing his briefs to pull them on, and his eyes find yours. Yours are sweet and soft, that fucked out look on your face makes his heart clench, but he realizes in that moment, that his parents wouldn’t approve of you. They want him to climb the ladder, have social status as well as financial status. They want access to the best of the best the 1% has to offer and he only gets that by marrying the right woman. You come from nothing, you have no connections beyond restaurant reservations. It doesn’t matter how he feels, his family won’t approve of you. “You should get some sleep. We have an early start. I’m going to answer some emails.” He says, grabbing his shirt to pull it on before he pads off down the hall to his home office.

You frown slightly, aware that Harry has been good at compartmentalizing, but something seems off. After a moment, you slide out of the bed and find your panties to slide on, following him out of the bedroom. You silently walk down the hall and stand in the doorway. “Should I leave?” You ask, frowning slightly when you find him pouring a drink at his bar.

He turns to look at you, “no. No. You don’t have to go. It’s late. Sleep here. I’m just gonna do some things.” He says, shaking his head and he struggles to look at you as the guilt claws at his insides. He shouldn’t have slept with you. “Go back to bed.”

You swallow harshly, reading the guilt and regret in his face. He can barely look at you. “Okay.” You nod and your heart hurts, but maybe it’s just his way of refocusing. “Just don’t work too late.” You caution. “I’ll be waiting.”

Harry nods, watching you pad back down the hall to his bedroom, and he makes his way into his home office. The computer screen is bright as he logs in, emails in his inbox but he ignores them to open a new tab. He glances at the doors to his office, his mind replaying the moment you called him perfect. He’s not perfect, far from it. He knows how others see him, the whispers behind his back. “He’s rich, he’s handsome but -” It’s always ‘but’ and they end it with “he’s so short.” He swallows harshly, typing into the search bar, “leg extension surgery.” He has been thinking about it, talking to Peter about it, and he thinks it’s time to look into it more. It’s time to do something about it.

When you get back into the bedroom, you go into the en-suite and clean up, finding the extra toothbrushes and cleaning your teeth. Crawling back into the now too big bed and wondering when Harry will come back.

Harry doesn’t come back to bed until you’re asleep, almost falling off the edge of the bed. He sighs, not wanting to wake you as he slides into the bed, silk sheets pulled over him as he lays on his pillow. His mind reeling as he listens to you breathe deeply, deciding then and there that he’s going to do it. He’s getting the surgery.

He’s asleep when you wake up. Turned away from you and curled against his pillow. Making you creep out of the bed to take your clothes and slip into the bathroom to shower and dress. Unsure of how this morning will go, you wonder if he will fire you.

Harry wakes to the smell of coffee brewing, his arm stretched out across the bed but you’re gone. He figures you’ve gotten ready so he makes his way into the en suite to get ready for the day. He needs to speak to Peter. He comes into the kitchen to find you pouring out the coffee. “Good morning.” You offer and he nods, “morning.”

He’s dressed and apparently already eager to get the day started. “You have an eight AM meeting this morning with Presley Howell.” You tell him. “I’ve reserved the conference room and ordered the bagels and lox he likes. The room has already been adjusted to 73 degrees, just as he enjoys it and there are several room temperature waters already on the table.” You had done that last night, considering that the last time you didn’t adjust the air in the room, Mr. Howell had left with a sniffle that he claimed came from how cold the 70 degree office was.

Harry nods, impressed as per usual at your efficiency and he’s reminded once again of why he can’t lose you. He needs you to run his life. He needs you to remember all of the small details. You hand him the coffee and he takes it, “thanks. You’re the best. Oh, can you book an appointment for me and Peter to see Dr. Feldman. He’s an orthopaedic surgeon on the upper east side.”

You frown slightly and nod. “Of course.” You answer, curious as to why he would want to make an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon but he would have told you if you needed to know. It seems like the passion from last night is to be forgotten. “That’s my job.” You murmur.

He nods, sipping his coffee. “Thanks. You’re the best.” He smiles at you, “you ready? I don’t want to be late for Howell.” He says, setting the cup down. His housekeeper will make the bed and clean up the kitchen when she comes in in about an hour. “Sure.” You nod, confused about why he is acting like nothing has changed between you but he doesn’t notice that. “Let’s go then.” He orders, “easier for you to ride with me since you’re here.”

You follow him quietly out of the apartment and to the elevator. Not saying anything when he presses the button for the ground floor. “As soon as the meeting with Howell is over, get my brother on the phone.” He tells you before shaking his head. “Nevermind, just tell him to come to the office. Better that we talk in person.” You wonder what is going on but you just nod. “Yes sir.”

Harry doesn’t say anything as you slide into the car and he looks out the window as New Yorkers start their commute to work via walking and the subway. “Also, can you arrange for lunch to be brought in for me and Peter? I’m sure we will be talking for a while.”

You tighten your jaw, but he doesn’t see that. “Would you like sushi or Katz Deli?” You ask practically, trying to forget that this man had fucked you silly last night and now he’s pretending nothing has changed between you.

He hums, knowing his brother will want to have something substantial. “Katz.” He decides, “make sure they don’t skimp on the sauerkraut for Peter.” He reminds you like you don’t know. He knows you are wondering what the hell he is thinking after last night but he can’t bring himself to talk about it. He needs to bury it and he needs you to do that too.

“Of course.” You make a note, having their normal orders memorized and you will get a sample of assorted sandwiches for Howell. It will be a little too much, but the other staff would enjoy anything left over. There’s a change of clothes in your coat closet that you keep for emergencies, along with a bag when you have to take last minute trips. You’ll change and put last night behind you when you get to the office.

Harry walks into his office with you following behind him. It’s early, no one is here, and he strides straight into his personal office, leaving you to get changed and wait for Howell to arrive. “Double espresso when you’re done.” He orders when he sits down in his chair. Peter has an office too but he likes to work from home more often than not since his clients are more international.

The executive bathroom is right next to Harry’s office, so it’s easy to slip in and change. Tidying your hair and applying professional make in just a few minutes before you walk down to the break room. Instead of ordering coffee out everyday, Harry had a professional espresso machine installed and had a barista train everyone how to make coffee that was far superior to anything they could get at a Starbucks. At the time, you had considered it a perk, but now you are a little bitter as you brew his double espresso to deliver to his desk.

Harry looks up when you enter his office, and he takes a second to admire how pretty you look, even after putting on a change of clothes in the bathroom. He thanks you softly for the coffee, eyes flicking back to the computer screen so he doesn’t say something stupid.

You turn on your heel and you head back out to your desk. You try to ignore the hurt that you feel, try to understand that he had changed his mind on what he wanted for some reason. It’s honestly ridiculous to think that Harry Castillo would want his assistant. You scoff to yourself as you start taking care of the little things that you always do. Making his life easier because it’s what you do.

Harry sighs, picking up his coffee to take a sip, and soon, you come back in to tell him Howell has arrived. “Take him to the conference room. I will be there in a moment.” He says, adjusting his tie.

“Yes, Mr. Castillo.” You walk back out to where Mr. Howell is waiting and smile. “This way, sir.” You guide him out of the office towards the luxurious conference rooms. “May I offer you a coffee?” You ask as you walk him into the specially selected room. It’s warmer, and you are happy that you aren’t sitting in on this meeting.

Mr. Howell nods, “yes, thanks. No cream, one sugar.” He orders and you nod, making your way down the hall to prepare his coffee. Harry soon makes his way into the conference room, reaching out to shake the older man’s hand until he sits down. When you come in to set the coffee down, he watches you avoid his eyes and Howell smirks, “lucky guy to have such a gorgeous woman working for you.” Harry narrows his eyes slightly at the comment but knows he can’t call him out if he wants the business so he says, “she’s an excellent employee.”

You don’t miss his comment, walking out of the room and you decide that you aren’t going to quit. You won’t pitch a fit or demand anything from your boss and lover for one night. You will simply forget it ever happened and go back to just being his assistant. However, you won’t ever let Harry Castillo back between your thighs again.

****

“So we are doing this?” Peter asks, raising his eyebrows at his brother as they finish their lunch. “If you want to. I want to.” Harry responds and Peter nods, “let’s do it. I’m sick of getting overlooked. I want more. If this is what it takes, I’ll do it.” He says and Harry smiles, relieved that his brother has agreed to this.

“Will you come into my office?” Your intercom comes to life a few moments after Peter leaves, making you wonder what the hell they had talked about in Harry’s office. “Yes sir.” You answer and stand up to straighten your skirt and brush down your blouse. You’ve been dressing sharper than normal over the past few weeks, completely professional, but enough that you can feel eyes on your ass as you walk through the halls. You open the door, notepad in hand. “You wanted to see me?” You ask as you close the door, seeing that he had cleared away the lunch they had shared already.

Harry nods, watching you walk in and he tries to not drag his eyes along your form. His mind flashes with the image of you naked beneath him and he swallows harshly. “I need you to clear my calendar for August.” He says, looking back at his computer. “An entire month?” You choke, shocked, and he nods. “I am having surgery.” He announces and you frown, “surgery? I didn’t - what for?” He sighs and looks at you, “I am going to have limb lengthening surgery.” He confesses, “me and Peter are doing it together.”

Your eyes widen. “You can’t.” You gasp, making Harry’s eyes narrow slightly as he frowns at you. “Can’t?” He huffs sharply. “That- I’ve heard it’s dangerous.” You stammer slightly over your words, heart pounding as you think about Harry hurt or worse from a botched surgery. He snorts and shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “My surgeon is the best there is.” He dismisses casually. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be better.” You want to argue, to tell him he doesn’t need to be taller, but it’s obvious he won’t listen to you.

“I need to do this.” He reasons with you and himself, “I can’t keep trying to be worth more than I am. I’m too short. I see it in women’s eyes. How I’m treated at bars…concerts, hell, even the airport. I’m never going to be valuable unless I am taller. I am never going to get a valuable woman unless I am taller. I need to be valuable. I need to find a woman who is valuable. It’s the only way to make my parents happy.”

Your heart shatters, hearing him talk about love and conflating it with value. Your lips press together and you realize that he would never change his mind, that what had happened between you had been one time fluke. “As you wish.” You lift your chin. “I will clear your calendar. Anything else?”

He shakes his head, “that’s it. Thank you.” He murmurs, watching you as you spin on your heel to storm out of his office. He knows he just hurt you but he couldn’t stop himself. He knows he could never be with you. His parents would never allow it. They want him to find a girl who can help his status, the business, and give them a daughter-in-law to brag about. His secretary? That would be a scandal to them.

Sitting stiffly at your desk, you type on your computer and make phone calls. Clearing Harry’s schedule, ordering groceries to his apartment for the recovery and making sure that the small portions of his life that he never thinks about are taken care of. Finishing up right before it is time to go home.

****

Harry hisses as he settles into his pillows, the pain meds keeping the majority of the agony at bay but he doesn’t know if he’s ever felt this much pain before. He grunts, feeling exhausted, and he has a long road ahead for recovery. He was in the private hospital for a week and now he’s home. “Shit. Where’s my glasses?” He calls out, needing them to read his emails.

“I don’t know.” You call back, rolling your eyes as you huff. You were in his kitchen, making him something to eat with his next dose of pain meds. The high powered narcotics worried you, but his pain levels were intense. Even as irritated as you were with him, you’ve been the one taking care of him since he entered the hospital for the surgery. “I’ll find them in a minute.” You go back to stirring the soup. “Why didn’t you fix your fucking eyes while you were at it too?” You scoff to yourself.

He huffs, deciding that he will book laser eyes surgery next so he doesn’t need his damn glasses all the time. One thing at a time though. No woman ever said they wouldn’t fuck him because he was wearing glasses. He grunts, trying to adjust himself as he holds his phone in his hand. You’re here and you are looking after him since Peter is at his mom and dad’s. He didn’t want to stay there, liking his own space too much, so he asked you to come help him while he recovered. He offered you extra vacation days in exchange for your help.

You hear him curse, rushing into the bedroom with a tray of food. “Damnit, don’t hurt yourself.” You huff, slapping the tray down and hurrying over to him. You put your arm around him and help him sit up better. “Did you tear your stitches?” You ask quickly.

He shakes his head, “no. I- I didn’t.” He reassured you, seeing that you’re frustrated with him. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, “I didn’t - if I could do this alone, I would do it. I’m sorry you’re here babysitting me.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this alone.” His guilt makes you soften, adjusting the covers over his legs and patting the sheets smooth. “I’ll get your meds and then I’ll find your glasses for you, okay?”

“I promise you, I’ll get you a vacation wherever you want to go after I’m healed. It’s the least you deserve.” He promises as you adjust his pillow. “Thanks for this, sweetheart.” He murmurs, catching your hand before you pull back to grab the tray.

“You know I would do anything for you.” You mean it because he’s your boss, but you squeeze his hand gently. He’s softer right now, probably because of the pain meds, so you won’t hold it against him.

He looks up at you, “do you think I’ve made a mistake? What if this is all for nothing?” He asks and you frown, “what do you mean?” He swallows harshly, “what if no one wants me even after I go through all this? What if no one loves me even if I’m taller? I can’t - I can’t do this if it’s all for nothing.”

You swallow harshly, knowing that he wouldn’t believe you if you told him how you felt now. Instead, you sit down gently beside him, careful not to touch his legs. “Someone is going to love you.” You promise, smiling at him. “Someone valuable to you, someone you think is worthy of you.” It’s a bitter pill that sits in your stomach, but you’ve swallowed it. “You’re handsome, rich, kind….” You shrug. “And now you’ll be taller. You’ll be a 10 out of 10.”

He stares at you, remembering how it felt to kiss you, and he almost leans closer but he doesn’t. “Will I?” He asks, his lower lip pouting and you nod, caressing his cheek. He leans into your touch, “it has to be worth it. It has to be.” He murmurs, the pain killers making him drowsy.

“It will be.” You promise, smiling as his eyes skip closed. The food can wait a little while, and you wait until he’s practically asleep before you let go of his hand and find his glasses where they were in the bathroom.

****

Harry grunts when he shifts out of the bed after getting a visit from the nurse to check him over. The physical therapist helps him, guiding him through the motions until he’s on his feet and - “shit. I- this feels weird.” He confesses and shouts your name, “come here.” He orders, wanting to see how you will look now that he’s taller.

You had stayed in the living room while the nurse and the physical therapist were with him, wanting to give him some privacy. But you rush into his room when he calls you. “Oh my god!” Your eyes widen when you see him on his feet. He is taller, much taller than he had been before. Even though you liked him when he was shorter, you can see the difference in his confidence immediately.

He looks at you, seeing how your eyes widen, and he grins. Relieved that this was worth it. He feels strong, like a presence in the room and not the butt of someone’s jokes like he was in high school. “What do you think?” He asks, straightening his back and his PT tells him to relax a little but he remains stiff to emphasize his new frame.

“You’re taller.” You tell him honestly, not wanting to hurt his feelings. You honestly don’t care that he’s taller. Might even resent it a little. “What do you think?” You ask, knowing that is the most important thing.

He nods, “I feel…different. But in a good way.” He decides, “I still have a long way to go but this is - I feel like this is what I was meant to do. I don’t regret it.” He declares, “I had to do this.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” You smile at him, but it’s a stiff, professional smile. Not the genuine ones you had given him when he’s on his pain meds and being soft. “I’ll go fix your after PT smoothie.” You tell him.

He watches you go, sighing softly until he gets started on his PT routine.

****

“I met someone.” Harry announces when you set his double espresso down on his desk. “Oh?” You ask, eyes wide and he smiles, “At Peter’s wedding. Her name is Lucy. She matched Peter and Charlotte. Wanted to recruit me but I don’t want her to set me up. I want to date her.”

It’s been eight years since his surgery. Eight years since the one night you slept together. You’ve dated since then, had a serious boyfriend for a year,  but it seems like Harry could never find someone good enough. “Oh really?” You lift a brow and hum. “Congratulations.” The ache still surprises you, but you don’t acknowledge it. Neither one of you has ever brought up that night since then and you know that it would be foolish to be upset because he had found someone to date.

“I want to book a nice place for a date. Can you pick somewhere? I only know where to go for business dinners.” He snorts, “but I know you know what’s trending. Also, can you take that new cashmere sweater to the tailor? It needs to be taken in a little at the waist. He knows what I need.”

“Yes sir.” You nod as you turn away from him, happy that he doesn’t see your frown. Striding out of his office when he calls you again. You turn at the door and he grins. “Somewhere expensive.”

He’s excited to see Lucy. She seems apprehensive to date him but he knows it’s because she wants him to sign up for Adore. He doesn’t care about the checkboxes anymore. He doesn’t care about making his parents happy, about finding a woman from a rich family who has a good salary. He wants someone he can trust, someone who is his friend and confidant. He could’ve had that with you but he was stupid, scared of judgement, and of his parents disapproval. Looking back, he was a fool but you moved on, dated and had a boyfriend. Clearly that night meant nothing to you and he can’t afford to lose you as his assistant. Lucy is real, she’s not a socialite or social climber. That’s what he wants.

You frown as you flip through the options of upscale - expensive - and exclusive restaurants that would impress a socialite. You’re annoyed, irritated really, that you are scheduling his date as if this was just another business venture instead of a woman he would potentially sleep with. It’s like he’s rubbing it in your face. Since he’s had the surgery, he’s never once had you schedule a date, although you know he’s taken women home. You know that he’s moved on and it’s so fucking ridiculous that you haven’t. Snatching up the office phone, you grumble to yourself as you dial the number to make a reservation.

****

“Thank you for agreeing to come on this date with me.” Harry says to Lucy, dressed in the sweater you laid out for him in a restaurant you chose. Your touch is on everything but he focuses on Lucy. ”I only said yes to this so you’d realize you’re wrong and you’re not actually interested in me.” Harry freezes for a moment, wondering if she’s realized something happened between you and him. “My instincts are usually right.” He tilts his head, wondering where she’s heading with this. It’s endearing that she doesn’t see how beautiful she is. It reminds him of you. “You’re sure that you’re more right about this than a professional?” Lucy counters and Harry leans forward, “oh sure, you’re the expert, but I trust my gut.” The waiter pours the expensive wine as Lucy looks at him, “okay, we’ll see.” Harry nods, leaning back as he lets his gaze take in her face, trying to ignore the comparison in his mind between you and her. This is his chance to try and get over you. You don’t want him. He needs to focus. “You look really good today.” He compliments her and she smiles, “thanks.” 

****

The date goes well, Harry pays the check, and bids Lucy goodbye with a kiss on the cheek. “Can I call you? For another date?” He asks and she nods, “sure, I’d like that.” He smiles and they part ways, his instinct is to grab the phone and call you, tell you how it went, but that won’t help him accomplish what he needs to. He wants to get married, even if that means he never falls in love.

Sitting on the couch in your tiny, overpriced New York apartment, you try not to check your  phone every two seconds. Ordering yourself some Chinese and pretending you had a normal night to relax seemed foolish when all you are doing is wondering how Harry’s date is going. You hate it. Hate how you are wondering and hate how you can’t help but be jealous. Picking up your tablet, you check your emails and wonder if you shouldn’t just quit. It might be time.

The next morning, Harry strides into the office, pleased about how his date went, and he finds you setting his espresso down on his desk. “Thanks.” He says, shifting to unbutton his jacket before he sits in his plush executive chair. “How did it go?” You ask even if it comes out a little pained. Harry looks at you, wishing he could see how you feel in your expression but it’s neutral. “Really good. I want to see her again. Can you look into another romantic restaurant? Book it for Friday?”

“Sure thing.” You shrug slightly. “I’ll book something a little more intimate. I’m sure by date three you want her in your bed.” You walk out of the office and close the door with a quiet click, even though you want to slam it.

Harry watches you go and sighs, not sure of what he wants. Part of him wants you to scream at him, tell him you want him, that he's making a mistake...but he was the one who pushed you away. He taps his fingers on his keyboard, thinking about how he should look forward to another date with Lucy.

Date two is an intimate little thing with a half booth. You made sure the light is low and soft and the bill would be high. You had also made sure to order more of Harry’s toothpaste for the apartment and made sure there was an extra toothbrush, just in case.

The third date takes a week to arrange since both Harry and Lucy are busy with work but eventually, he speaks to her on the phone and she agrees to see him on Thursday night. Harry calls you into his office, "I need somewhere romantic for our third date for Thursday at eight. I want flowers too. Whatever you think is romantic and a big gesture." He says, knowing he will likely be taking Lucy back to his apartment after this date.

Plastering a fake smile on your face, you nod. “Of course, Mr. Castillo.” You find it ironic that he would have you schedule his romantic dates, not having a clue what to do. So when you go back to your desk, you order the most over the top arrangement you can find. It’s massive and you smirk when you think about him lugging those flowers to the date.

Harry struggles as he carries the flowers into the restaurant. You clearly decided to get the biggest bouquet in NYC but Lucy’s eyes light up and that makes it worth it. He shoves them on the floor by the table, helping Lucy into her seat and he orders a nice bottle of wine. This place isn’t cheap but he wants to show her what he can offer her.

****

“Hey, Chris.” You hope you don’t sound desperate. Sitting at home would drive you crazy and you have already stayed at work beyond anyone else. The offices are dark and the building is quiet except for the hum of a vacuum down the hall. You need to just go out and forget about today. “Um, I was wondering if you wanted to catch a drink tonight?”

Chris snorts down the phone, “are you still in love with your boss?” He asks and you let out a nervous giggle. “Yeah I thought so.” He answers, “I guess - if you wanna catch a drink as friends that’s fine.”

“I need to get over him.” You tell him and yourself as you bite your lip. “I need to move on. He’s dating some matchmaker.”

He lets out a chuckle, “oh of course. But you won’t. You never will. That’s why we broke up. A year together and you were still in love with him.” He sighs, “I don’t want to be with you while you love him, I won’t be your rebound or whatever it is you need. Let’s just - let’s go for a drink. You can vent to me about what an asshole he is and then you can go home.”

You hate that you are using him, but you agree. Choosing a bar that’s not too far from the office. “Twenty minutes?” You ask softly, appreciating that he’s giving you a chance to sort out your feelings.

He sighs, “sure. I’ll see you at that bar on the corner of 5th and 42nd.” He says and puts the phone down. He sighs, knowing he can’t bring you back into his life when you’re still in love with Harry.

Shutting down your computer, you go into the executive bathroom with your bag, touching up your makeup and making it a little smokier for the nighttime. Reaching for the earrings in the front pocket and you realize you haven’t worn these since the night you had gone home with your boss. “Fuck it.” You huff, trading the practical studs for the gorgeous hoops. You apply a new lipstick and look at yourself in the mirror. “Get over him.” You tell yourself sternly.

****

Meanwhile, Harry listens to Lucy list why she’s not enough for him, and he understands. He had similar thoughts about you but that was when his mother wanted him to have a socialite for a wife. Now, she’d settle for anyone. Lucy is smart, beautiful, confident, and she understands an arrangement. He leans in, “you are valuable.” He says and her eyes soften, making him smile and he wants to take her home tonight. He needs to erase the image of you beneath him from his mind. “You want to come back to mine?” He asks after she compliments the way he pays the bill. She nods and he stands, picking up the ridiculous arrangement to guide her out of the restaurant. When he has her pressed against the wall of his apartment, his mind flashes to you in the same position, and he pushes that aside. He can’t have you. He needs to focus on what he can have.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home with me?” You ask. “I’m not talking about anything more than sex.” You promise. “We used to be great at that.” You’ve had a few drinks and you’ve vented to Chris, but you want someone to want you.

Chris sighs, shaking his head, “no. I - Jesus, I loved you but you didn’t love me. I can’t do that again. It took me a while to get over you and I don’t want to backslide. You need to figure your shit out. Harry has that girl. Get online, I don’t know - try a damn matchmaking service for yourself. Don’t let him stop you from living your life when he clearly doesn’t care enough to stop himself from living his own.” Chris reaches for your hand to squeeze it. “I want you to be happy.”

It’s harsh and straightforward, but you can always count on Chris for that. “For the record, I didn’t not love you.” You promise softly, looking down at your joined hands. “And I regret letting you go. But you’ll find someone better than me. You deserve it.”

Chris nods, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it. “You deserve it too. We weren’t meant to be but that’s okay, I don’t want half of someone’s heart. I want it all. I’m selfish.” He smirks and you giggle, “thank you.” He winks at you and lets go of your hand, “another drink?” You nod and he gestures to capture the attention of the bartender.

****

Harry looks up at the ceiling, Lucy asleep next to him, and he turns his head to look at her. His stomach twists, remembering how you looked in his bed. Lucy is beautiful and he looked after her in bed but she wasn’t you and that makes him feel so guilty. He wants to try and make this something, even offering to take Lucy to Iceland. All so he can forget how he feels about you.

The request to pick up the engagement ring almost made you scream. You stared at him in amazement when you heard him. “Engageme-“ you choke off the word and swallow harshly. “Congratulations. I will pick it up and include it in your bags for Iceland.” You tell him woodenly. “Your itinerary has been programmed into your calendar.”

Harry doesn’t know what he wanted you to react like in that moment. Maybe to scream at him that he’s making a mistake? That he shouldn’t marry Lucy? When you simply nod and agree to pick up the ring, pack it in his luggage, he realizes that that night meant nothing to you. He nods, offering you a stiff smile, “thanks. You’re the best. Oh, and I hope you booked yourself somewhere nice while I’m gone? Peter can handle all the in person meetings. He knows that I’m getting engaged so he is taking on the brunt of the work. You can take that deserved week off.”

Your smile is tight and you don’t tell him that it won’t be necessary. You are resigning just as soon as his flight takes off. That gives you a week to cry and mourn the loss of a relationship you never actually had before you find another job. “That’s very kind of you.” You murmur. “I- I better go get your ring.” You tell him. “I- goodbye.”

Harry frowns, watching you rush out of his office, and he sighs, rubbing his cheek. “What the fuck am I doing?” He murmurs, knowing he has to do this because his parents are expecting him to get married. 

****

“You don’t love me and I don’t love you.” Lucy says and it cuts deep in Harry. She sees right through him, noticing the scars on his legs, and the final nail in the coffin of the relationship comes when Lucy tells him she doesn’t want to marry him. Part of him is upset that all of his planning was for nothing, the sacrificing of his work time, the dates…it was all for nothing. He nods, sleeping on the sofa until he hears her leave the next morning. He stays on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling once the door shuts, and his first instinct is to call you. He fumbles to find his phone, hitting your contact.

“Shit, shit.” Your eyes widen when Harry’s number flashes up on your phone. You hadn’t expected him to call you so soon. You had just hit send on your resignation email. “Mr. Castillo.” You manage, your voice a little shaken. “Has your plane been delayed?” You had spent the night awake, carefully composing the letter to express gratitude and appreciation for the opportunities that working for him afforded you. However, you had stated that given the history between you, you could no longer be his assistant when he was engaged to be married. You assured him that you had arranged for interviews to be conducted for your replacement, their resumes were already on his desk for when he returns from Iceland.

Harry hears the panic in your voice and he’s confused. “I’m not going. Lucy - she - we broke up. Can I - can I see you? I just - I need to talk to someone.” He murmurs, knowing you could say no since he’s given you the time off but he needs you more than ever.

Despite the fact that you just resigned, your feelings for Harry immediately override every bit of common sense you have. You sigh softly. “Of course.” You murmur. “Let me get dressed and I can be there in twenty minutes.” You haven’t gone to sleep, but that doesn’t matter now. You want to know why they broke up.

Harry shakes his head against the phone, “I’ll come get you. I need - I want to go to Prospect Park. I need to think and I want you with me.” He confesses, “I’ll pick you up on the way. I’ll be twenty minutes.” He says and hangs up the phone before you can say no. He calls his driver and rushes to get ready to see you.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” You huff at yourself, throwing the bed covers off and climbing out of your bed. “You should have told him no. You should have told him to kiss your ass.” You walk through to your bathroom and decide that if you are going to see him, you’re at least gonna leave a lasting impression.

Harry rings your buzzer, your building entrance door is locked. “I’ll be right down.” Your voice comes through the intercom and he shifts from one foot to the other while he waits for you. When you appear after opening the door, his breath hitches. God, you’re beautiful. “Were you going somewhere? Did I interrupt something?” He asks, worried now that you agreed to meet him because of your job.

“No.” You shake your head and slightly sidestep his hand when he guides you towards the car. You can’t have him touching you right now. “I was planning on spending the day in my pajamas and watching movies.”

“Oh. Well, thank you for coming out.  I just needed to see you.” He murmurs, tugging on the collar of his sweater. He opens the car door for you, his driver informed to not get out, and he shuts the door behind you when you slide in. He rounds the back of the car to open his own door and he settles in beside you. The driver pulls away from the curb and Harry is silent for a moment, deciding to check his phone quickly. He frowns when he sees the notification in his emails subject ‘Resignation’. He opens it, skimming the email, and he turns to look at you. “You’re resigning?”

“Yes.” You couldn’t deny it, not when your email is on the phone screen. He makes a sound of disappointment and you sigh. “You weren’t supposed to see the email until you got back from Iceland.” You admit. “Since you had said you weren’t checking emails or working.”

He frowns, “why? Am I - have I done something wrong? Is it the pay? The hours? I can pay you more. You can work less hours, hire your own assistant. I don’t understand.” He spirals a little as his chest tightens while he imagines you quitting and out of his life.

You snort, shaking your head and getting angry because he’s so fucking stupid. “I slept with you.” You remind him. “I can’t fucking work for you and plan your dates and buy the flowers you give them and pick up your engagement ring while planning your romantic vacation.” You lean forward. “Stop the car.” You order the driver. “I’m getting out.” It was a mistake to see him. You realize that, and you need to leave before you say something stupid.

The driver stops and Harry tries to stop you but you’re out of the car before he can even respond to you. He shakes his head, fumbling to unlock the door and he gets out of the other side. You are shutting the door and he calls your name across the roof of the vehicle. “Just stop. You can’t say that and get out of the car.” He growls, striding around the back of the car as you walk across the street. He reaches for your arm to stop you and a car honks at him. He growls at the driver, “goddamn it.” His eyes are wide as he looks at you. “That night meant nothing to you.” He reminds you, “what are you doing? What do you want?”

“That night meant nothing to me?” You look at him like he’s crazy as you fling those words back at him. “I slept with my boss and immediately after he acts like nothing has happened! Arrrrrrghhhh!” You practically screech as you throw your hands up in the air. You know people are looking at you, there are a few cars honking but you don’t even pay them any attention. “You are the stupidest smart man I’ve ever met in my entire life!” You are screaming and looking insane,  but you can’t stop now. “I am so fucking in love with you that I just pretended it didn’t happen because I thought that’s what you wanted! I can’t even have a relationship because they figure out I’m in love with you.” Tears are streaming down your face, ruining the careful look you had created. “I didn’t care that you were short! I didn’t care! I liked you shorter! You were you and I loved you just as you were! But I can’t-“ you choke out. “I can’t watch you date. To make the reservation while you flirt and woo and fuck someone who is everything that you said you couldn’t have!” You slap the top of the car. “You didn’t want me, but then you were going to marry a matchmaker. Fuck you, Harry! Fuck you!”

He is shocked, flinching like you’ve slapped him, but your words register and he blurts out, “you love me?” You laugh humorlessly and go to walk off but he grabs your arm. “Hey buddy? What the fuck are you doin’?” The driver of the car shouts out the window and Harry growls at him, “just wait a fucking minute.” He looks at you, “I love you. I didn’t know it when we slept together but I know that now. I was buried under the pressure. To be the perfect son, the perfect brother, the perfect businessman. My parents lectured me about picking a good girl to marry - someone of value - someone who would help me climb the ladder. I didn’t know what I wanted at that time. That’s why I left you in my bed after we - then you acted like nothing happened and I thought that was for the best. Less complicated. Meeting Lucy - she wasn’t what my parents wanted but she was someone to marry. She said the next person she dates she is going to marry. I thought she’d be an easy pick to get my mom off my back. She was everything they wanted except rich and I convinced them that it didn't matter. Turns out, money doesn’t matter. She didn’t want me and I didn’t want her. She dumped me and I realized - it was all for nothing. Leaving you in bed, the surgery, the dating. It meant nothing because it didn’t change how I felt about myself. I’m still 5 foot six and wanting the most incredible woman to be mine. I fucked up. I did. I understand if you want to go, to quit your job, but I want you to know this one thing: you are valuable. To me. You always have been.”

You stare at him in shock, in anger. “You can’t just say that to me.” You cry out, shaking your head. “This is insane! How do I know that you aren’t just falling back to me after Lucy left?” You demand. “You now love me? After ignoring that night for eight years?” You laugh bitterly. “How the hell do I know that you aren’t just afraid of being alone?” He opens his mouth but you cut him off. “When I was dating Chris, I was trying to convince myself that I didn’t love you. But he knew. You know, I expected him to propose, but he broke up with me. Because he knew that I was in love with you.” You tell him.

Harry’s chest tightens with jealousy at the thought of you engaged to Chris, and he glances over at the cars honking at the two of you. That’s when he realizes this is what Lucy has been talking about. Fighting in the street. You’re the only person he would do that with. “I know what I want. It’s you. I just didn’t realize it until now, tried to act like I didn’t want you. It didn’t work. You’re the only woman I’d fight in the street with.” He declares and you frown, “what the hell is that supposed to mean?” You hiss and he grins at your reaction, “that I love you. I’m in love with you. I want you. I want to marry you and be with you until I’m old and wrinkly and you are still the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I want you for the rest of my life.”

You don’t understand, but you don’t resist when he reaches for you. Pulling you close and cupping your cheek gently. “I hope you mean that.” You whisper, hope flaring to life inside your chest again. “Because I don’t want to go back to what we were.”

“Never. I love you. I want you.” He promises, leaning in to press his lips to yours. Car horns honk and people are yelling at you to get out of the way but Harry doesn’t care. He caresses your cheek, deepening the kiss.

You sigh softly, melting against him as you let yourself get close. The feeling of his body wrapping around you is one that you could quickly get used to. Pulling back to look him in the eyes. “I love you, Harry. You’ve always been perfect to me.”

He presses his forehead against yours, "I'm sorry it took me so long to realize." He nudges his nose against yours and the car horns continue. "You wanna come back to mine? I don't want to let you go yet." He murmurs, taking your hand in his to guide you back to the car.

You ignore the angry curses of New Yorkers that have been slightly inconvenienced by your little fight. Too stunned by how all of this is turning out. “Are you sure?” You ask, “she just broke up with you.”

Harry opens the door for you, “I’m sure. She wasn’t you. I didn’t really want her, I just wanted to please my parents. I am sick of pleasing them. I want to do what I want and right now, I want you. I want to show you how much I love you.”

You bite your lip, lifting a brow slightly. “Didn’t she spend the night last night?” You ask. Harry frowns as he slides in beside you. “Yes?” You snort and shrug. “Then we might want to go to my place unless you want to change the sheets.”

"We didn't have sex last night but yes, let's go back to yours." He reaches for your hand to kiss the back of it. "Yours." He murmurs, "and we don't have to, you know, I just want to be with you."

You are surprised by the fact that they didn’t have sex. But maybe it was good, considering that they had broken up. “I wouldn’t rule it out.” You admit with an amused smirk. “I remember really liking sex with you and it’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone.” You snort, shaking your head. “Tried to get Chris to sleep with me a few weeks ago, but he turned me down.”

Harry knows he can’t be annoyed by that. You didn’t belong to him. “I really liked sex with you and I- I’m sorry. You deserved to be loved, to be touched, and I stopped you from experiencing that.” He sighs and leans in to kiss your cheek, “I want to show you how I feel…if you’ll let me. If not, I understand. We can take it slow.”

“Don’t you think we’ve been taking it slow for the last eight years?” You ask, reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers through his. You squeeze gently and look into his eyes. “I want you.” You confess softly. “I always want you.”

Harry smiles, squeezing your hand, “I want you.” He murmurs, leaning closer so he can nudge his nose against yours. You tilt your head and he kisses you softly, wanting to show you how he feels, that he doesn’t want you for just sex. “I don’t want to take it slow.” He confesses against your lips.

“You’ve always been impatient when you want something.” You tease and you’ve noticed the driver has stopped in front of your building again. “We are here.” You murmur softly. “Good thing we hadn’t gotten far.”

Harry thanks the driver, tells him to head off and he will call if he needs him. He takes your hand after getting out of the car, helping you out, and he lets you find your keys in your purse. “I never liked you living here.” He confesses, “wanted to suggest you let me buy you a place. Somewhere safer.”

You snort softly. “It’s safe enough.” You murmur, although it’s true that there are better areas. “And I think people would talk if you did that now.” You joke as you open the door to the lobby so you can go in. You have a second floor walk up so you head for the stairs. “They will think that I’m a kept woman.”

He snorts, following you upstairs, allowing his eyes to drift down to your ass. “You are going to be.” He says without hesitancy, “besides, you’ll move in with me eventually. Whenever you want. Tomorrow if I had my way.” He smirks, playfully reaching out to smack your ass.

You gasp in surprise and turn around to grin at him. “Tomorrow, huh?” You huff softly and roll your eyes. “Why the rush? You have a deadline you need to meet?”

“No. I mean, we wasted eight years. I don’t want to waste anymore time. I want you. You’re going to be my wife.” He promises, “and you’re gonna get everything you’ve ever wanted.” He watches you as you take the last step and spin to look at him as he stands three steps down. You’re taller and he swallows, remembering how you were there for him when he had his surgery. “I love you.” He murmurs, dark eyes looking at you.

“I love you too.” You promise, and when he reaches for you, you stop him. “But I need you to know something.” You tell him, making him frown slightly. “I don’t give a shit about your money.” You promise. “I don’t care that you’ve had the surgery. I don’t care if you start balding.” He huffs and runs a hand through his hair, a move that would make you laugh if you weren’t trying to tell him something serious. “I don’t care that you really don’t have a romantic bone in your body.” He lifts a brow and you just lift yours back. “I love you. I love the way you treat people, the way you listen. The way that you focus completely on them as if they are your whole world.” You smile softly. “I love the way you will dance with little girls and little old ladies at weddings. I love you. Not the version of you that you wish you were.”

He stares at you, feeling like you have cut him open and exposed his guts. It's shocking but incredible. To not feel like he has to perform, to be perfect. You see all of his flaws, know his deepest secrets, and you still love him. "I promise -" He reaches for your hands, "I promise that no matter what the future holds for us, I will never be anything but myself with you. I won't insult you - our relationship - but pretending to be what I think you want me to be. No matter how ugly it gets, or how good life is...I promise you you will have me. As I am."

You smile, lunging forward to grab you and pull him close for a kiss. Needing to kiss him. To seal those vows. “I love you.” You promise breathlessly. “And I’ll stand by you forever.”

He reaches for you, wrapping his arms around your thighs and he lifts you as he walks up the last three steps. "Let me show you." He carries you to your front door, lowering you slowly until he's pressing you into the wood. His lips pressing against yours while his hands squeeze your ass.

It’s that same kind of magnetic energy that you’d had the first time you slept with Harry. Wishing that you were already inside as you press against him, already breathless from the way he surrounds you. It’s not because he’s taller, it’s because he’s got a presence that just makes you melt. “Harry.” You whimper quietly. “I need to get us inside or we will strip each other down right here.”

"You act like that's a bad thing." He teases, letting you spin with your keys in your hand, fumbling to unlock the door. He leans in to kiss your neck, his hands squeezing your hips.

You almost drop the damn keys, cursing yourself as Harry chuckles behind you. He takes your keys, smugness oozing from behind you as he slides the key into the lock and twists it open. “Distracted?” He asks and you huff. “You’re a tease.” You whine as you spin around and drag him inside after throwing the door open.

He chuckles, “you love it,” kicking the door shut with his foot, and he glances around your apartment. It’s small but the decor is all you. It’s homely, cute. You press yourself up against him after tossing your purse down and his attention is back on you. He kicks off his shoes until he grabs your waists pulling you into his chest. “Would a tease want you naked so he can bury his face in your pussy?” He asks, reaching for the hem of your shirt.

“Fuuuuck.” You moan softly. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had someone do that?” You had decided to give up dating and sex after Chris had ended things, so it’d be awhile. You unclip your bra and let it slide down your arms. You have no shame, no hesitation.

He groans, eyeing your tits, and he immediately cups your breasts, squeezing them. “You are - I jerked off so many times imagining these.” He confesses, pinching your nipples as he walks you backwards towards your bedroom. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He murmurs, squeezing your breast and he slides his hand down to your waist, his head ducking down to wrap his lips around your nipple.

You whimper his name, cupping his head in your hands. His mouth feels magical and you wish that you hadn’t waited eight years for this to happen again, but that can’t be helped. “Oh fuck.” You groan when he flicks his tongue over the nipple again.

He bites down on your nipple, the bed hitting your legs as he stumbles into your bedroom. He lowers you down to your bed, his lips releasing your nipple with a pop as he switches to the other side. His hand slides down to pop the button of your jeans, slowly pulling the zipper down.

You should probably slow him down, sit back and talk about things rationally. But you don’t want to. You don’t want to think about anything other than his hands on you and what he will do next. “Baby, baby I need you to strip down.” You beg softly.

He grunts, shifting back from your chest, and he reaches for his sweater, pulling it over his head. Your fingers immediately find the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning them a little slower and he watches you until your eyes meet his. “I love you.” He murmurs, grabbing your hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

“I love you.” You promise softly, leaning up to push his shirt off his shoulders. “I shouldn’t admit this, but I’m so fucking glad she didn’t know what she had.” You murmur.

He shrugs the shirt off his wrists, tossing it to the floor, and your hands find his belt - the same one you bought him all those years ago. “I didn’t know what I had. I should’ve taken you to the wedding.” He admits his mistake, knowing he should’ve trusted his gut, his heart. “It’s always been you. I just didn’t realize it yet.” He sighs, shifting to pull your jeans down your legs.

“As long as you realize it now.” You murmur, leaning back to let him strip your jeans off and you lift your hips, dragging down the lacy panties you had put on this morning to feel good about yourself.

He swallows harshly, kneeling between your legs as you spread your thighs for him, exposing your already wet cunt. “Shit.” He murmurs, “you’re so beautiful, baby.” He slides his hands along your thighs, shifting to lay between them. “I am going to taste you, make you cum on my tongue, and then I’m going to make love to you.” You whimper and he presses a kiss to your thigh, looking up at you, “that sound like a plan or you want something different?”

“It sounds like the only thing I want to do today.” You promise, pussy dripping and quivering with need. “Besides rescind my resignation.” You bite your lip. “If my boss lets me. He might be glad to get rid of me.”

He chuckles, breath puffing over your slick folds, “he doesn’t accept your resignation. You’re never allowed to quit.” He decides before he slides his tongue through your folds. You moan his name and he groans, loving your tangy arousal as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

Your eyes slide closed, a breathless giggle coming out of your mouth as your chest heaves. “That’s good.” You promise. “So good because I’m enjoying the perks of staying.”

He smirks against your pussy, pleased that you’re staying, and his hands squeeze your thighs as he pushes them further apart. Tongue lapping and flicking at your folds until he pushes it deep into your cunt, his nose pressing into your clit while he tries to devour you like that will keep you in his life forever.

You’ve imagined him in your bed so many times but you’ve never expected to actually look down and see him there. “Oh fuck.” You whine, walls clenching around his tongue “Harry, I-“ your hand slides up to cup your breast. “I imagined this so many nights.”

Harry can’t believe this is happening. He has woken up many times during the night imagining you like this again, his cock aching for release. He never thought he’d get to have you again. Groaning, he dives back into your folds, his hand trailing along your thigh until he can push his finger into your dripping pussy while he flicks his tongue over your clit.

You moan softly, loving how thick his fingers are. They have always been elegant, but right now they are devastating inside you. Your walls are soaked, slicking up his fingers easily as he pushes them deeper.

He curls them, trying to find that spot that makes you cry out and when he finds it, he grins against your bundle of nerves. Your cry vibrates through you and he moans, loving how it sounds and he pumps his fingers a little faster. He wants you to cum. He needs to taste you.

A man, as powerful and rich as Harry is, being a giver. It’s like finding that mystical unicorn. He is a rarity. It doesn’t hurt that he’s amazing at giving. The flick of his tongue is specific, he knows where to lap. How to suck. You feel the knot building in your stomach. “Gonna cum, baby.” You gasp out. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

He groans, cock pressing into your mattress, as the desire to hear you cum, feel it, ramps up. He pants your name into your pussy, fingers curling in the same rhythm that has you moaning. He sucks hard on your clit, “that’s it, baby.” You moan and within moments, your scream echoes off the walls of your apartment while your walls clamp down on his fingers.

It’s earth shaking. Maybe the rest of New York doesn’t feel it, but you do. Body trembling while you are sent soaring, pussy gushing and you can hear how wet you get when his fingers slide slick and make the sweetest sounds while he works you through it. “Harry, Harry, oh fuck baby.” You whine. “I love you so much.”

He works you through it until you push on his head and he withdraws his fingers so he can shift up your body to press his lips to yours. You don’t seem to care about your taste on his tongue as it slides against his. His cock is aching but he doesn’t want to rush this. This is you. It’s more than sex.

You wrap your arms around him, ready to pull him up so he can slide inside you but you stop. “We need a condom.” You murmur against his lips. You don’t know how he had slept with Lucy and you aren’t going to ask. You can’t judge him when you weren’t together. You just want to protect yourself.

He understands, “do you have one?” He asks, knowing he will stop if you don’t. He wants you to be comfortable. “Nightstand.” He nods, pecking your lips, and he reaches out to open your nightstand. His fingers touch your vibrator and he turns to look at you, “we are definitely using that at some point.” He promises and finds the foil packet, working fast to open it up while you fumble to shove his pants down. He manages to kick them off along with his briefs so he can roll the condom down his length. “You ready?” He asks, squeezing himself as he gives you a moment.

You stare at him for a moment, memorizing it and locking it away. “I’m ready.” You whisper, shifting slightly and widening your thighs to entice him. “I’ve never been more ready, baby.” You promise him.

He offers you a crooked grin, so different from his perfectly poised smiles that he uses for the outside world. "Long overdue." He murmurs, shuffling closer until he is pushing into you. Your gasp makes him shiver in delight and he shifts until he can cover you with his body, his lips finding yours.

All you can do is moan into his mouth, wrapping your arms and legs around his body and letting him sink in deeper. It’s beautiful. The time before wasn’t a fluke and you know that he feels it too. His cock is throbbing inside you and you kiss him again before pulling back. “You are seeing the doctor right away.” You tell him. “Getting tested so I can feel you without a condom between us.” You are clean, on birth control, and you would love nothing more than to feel him raw inside you.

He groans at the thought, nodding, “absolutely. Fuck. I wanna - wanna feel you with nothing between us.” He grunts, “you’re so fucking gorgeous.” He says as he presses kisses to your neck while he starts to move inside you. You feel incredible, tight around his cock. “I love you.” He vows, knowing he’s had a hard time loving anyone but with you, it’s as easy as breathing.

You close your eyes, smiling as he starts to slowly build up a rhythm. “I love you.” You return softly, hands stroking up and down his back. Feeling the muscles move. You will have to talk about the future, but you are just giddy that there will be one. “You feel so good baby, so perfect inside me.”

He is slow as he moves inside you, not wanting to be frantic and turn this into a quick fuck. You deserve so much more, especially after everything he’s put you through.

You love how gentle he is. Slow rolls of his hips and kisses are exchanged. You reach up and caress his cheek. “You have been so handsome to me.” You whisper. “Always thought so. So damn lucky that you are mine.”

He smiles, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. “I’m yours.” He promises, “the surgery - you were there for me. No matter what. I was blind. I was pressured by my parents but that’s done. I see you. I want you. I’m going to marry you.” He promises, thrusting a little harder into you.

“I just want you. I don’t want anything else.” You know that his parents might not believe that, all of New York might not believe you, but you don’t care. As long as he believes you. “We will be happy together. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Fuck. You feel so good.” He chokes, grabbing your thigh to lift it higher so he can push deeper into your pussy. “I love it. Thought about how you feel for the longest time.” He grunts, “so good. So goddamn perfect.”

You moan in agreement, both of you lost in the sensations. The moment is perfect and you feel how much he is giving you every time his hips snap forward. The edges of his control slipping slightly and you love it. “Made for you.” You pant out. “Just like you were made for me. No one has ever made me feel like you.”

He pants, words escaping him as he shows you how he feels with his body. You moan and rock your hips to meet his, pushing him impossibly deeper into your hungry cunt. “That’s it. Shit. Need you to cum for me.” He shifts to adjust his weight to one forearm, licking his thumb until he brings it to your clit.

You whine his name, body already poised on the edge of shattering. Every time he rocks into you, he presses his thumb in a neat circle and pulls a moan out of you. “Baby, baby, please.” You beg, kissing his jaw and desperate for his lips.

“Need you to cum for me.” He demands, needing to see it, feel it. He wants to see it for the rest of his life. “Come on, baby. Need to hear you moan my name.” He rubs your clit a little faster before he presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is what you needed. That last little thread of connection with Harry. The next thrust, you fall apart. Crying out into his mouth loud enough that your neighbor beats on the wall and shouts something, but you don’t even care. Too busy flying high above the clouds in pure pleasure as you soak his cock.

He hears someone yell but he doesn't give a fuck. He groans, loving how you squeeze his cock and he should last longer but the combination of you, your newly discovered feelings, and the knowledge that you are his has him falling over the edge. He groans your name, pushing deep until he spills his cum into the condom.

You groan softly, loving how he throbs inside you as you come down from the pleasure. Promise yourself that you will have the concierge doctor visit as soon as possible to have his STI screening done. Not that you think Lucy would have something, but you can’t be too careful. “I love you.” You promised as he buries his face in your neck, panting against your skin. Your foot rubs against the smooth scars from his surgery and it doesn’t matter to you. You don’t mind it, but you also understand why he did it.

He nudges his nose against yours, breathing deeply to try and catch his breath after cumming so hard. It’s been a while since he felt like that. He grunts as he reaches down to grip the base of the condom, slowly pulling out of you until he can remove the rubber, tying it off. “You’re everything.” He promises, kissing your neck.

You hum softly, reaching up to run your hand through his hair and cup his cheek. “So are you.” You smile as you stare into his eyes. “You’re perfect. And you’re the only man I’ve ever wanted to grow old with.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t see it before now.” He hums, pulling you into his chest, “I should’ve seen you before now. I just - I was scared and I let other people tell me what I want. I want you to move in, to marry me. When you want. Just know I want that tomorrow if I could do it.”

You giggle quietly. “Go to the courthouse?” You ask, fingers trailing over his skin gently. Loving the skin to skin contact. “Just elope? Have a party later on and just surprise people that we’ve been married for a year? Or never tell?”

Harry shifts back to look at you, “you’d do that? Go to the courthouse?” He asks, “marry me just like that?” He is surprised that you’d agree to it so easily. He loves the idea. “You wouldn’t want a big wedding? We could still have the big wedding if you want to have one.”

You snort and shake your head. “Don’t get mad…” you tell him, looking slightly sheepish. “I hated your brother’s wedding.” You admit. “It seems more like an event to show off than actually them being in love.” You know society weddings are to show off, but you hate the idea. All you care about is being with the person you love. “All that matters are the two people promising to spend their lives together.” You shrug. “The flashy wedding doesn’t do it for me.”

He can’t help it, he laughs, and you frown at his reaction. “Sorry, baby, I just - my parents spent half a million dollars on a wedding for two people who weren’t even in love. I don’t want a show. We have nothing to prove or to display. We have the wedding you want and if that’s in the courthouse, let’s go get the license today. I know what I want and it’s you. As my wife. However I get to have you.”

You stare at him for a moment before a smile breaks. Reaching up and caressing his cheek. “Then we go get married today. Just me and you.” You grin. “But we need to talk to your lawyer. Get a prenup.”

Harry sighs, knowing that’s sensible but part of him wants to just throw caution to the wind and invest everything he has in you. “Baby, I won’t be one of those women. You work hard. I want to protect myself and you.” You reason and he nods, “I know.” He picks up your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. “And I want it to show you you’re valuable. That I love you. I’ll call him.”

“Thank you, love.” You will feel better knowing that there is an agreement in place. Even if you don’t care, people in Harry’s life matter to him and you want them to be comfortable with his future with you.

****

“Do you, Harry Xavier Castillo, take this woman to be your wife? To have and to hold. In good times and bad. In sickness and health. As long as you both shall live?” The officiant asks and Harry nods, squeezing your hands, “I do.” The officiant grins, “then I have the honor of declaring you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride.” He declares and Harry wastes no time surging forward to press his lips to yours, his hands squeezing your waist to drag you closer as it sinks in that you are his wife.

You had decided to keep it simple. The court house wedding didn’t bother you, despite his attorney advising to at least fly to Vegas. You wanted to get married in the city. You had picked a pretty dress and chosen the suit you loved Harry in the most. It was enough for you, although the wedding ring he had picked out for you costs more than your apartment. He had not used the ring he had you pick up for Lucy. “I love you.” You whisper against his lips and kiss him again. “Husband.”

He grins against your lips, his heart feeling like it’s gonna explode, and he brings your hand up to kiss the back of it. “Let’s go sign the certificate and then we are going to dinner. I booked it.” He declares and you raise your eyebrows, “you made a reservation? I’m impressed.” He chuckles, “I’m making all the reservations now. Under the name Mr. & Mrs. Castillo.” He winks, guiding you down the aisle, the gold ring on his finger feels good and he knows this is exactly what he wants.

****

“Why didn’t we just hire a moving company?” It’s cute how he’s complaining even as he’s taping another box shut. Rolling his eyes at you, while the sleeves of his shirt are pushed up and he is wearing designer jeans that make his ass look amazing. “Because that’s the fun of moving.” You huff playfully, waving a hanger at him. “Besides, I’m leaving all the furniture. Didn’t think it would fit in your place.” He shoots you a pout. “It’s our place.” He reminds you and you smirk. “Our place. So we don’t need movers for just my clothes and personal items.”

Harry grumbles but continues to pack your things. It won’t take long and the u-haul is parked on the street. Sometimes you like to remind him how privileged he is and he always appreciates the reality check. You are trying to get him to upgrade his place though. “There’s not enough room if we want kids.” You declared a few nights ago at dinner and that got him thinking. You don’t know it yet but he’s in the process of buying this place you sent him over on Reade Street that you said was “your dream home.” He wants you to have everything so he’s buying it and will surprise you with it later once you’re moved in. Then he will pay for movers because there’s no way he’s moving all his books and art to a new place. “When are those people coming for the viewing?” He asks, knowing your landlord let you out of the lease with the agreement that you help him show it to any prospective tenants.

Twisting your wrist, you check your watch. “Should be here in ten minutes.” Which in New Yorker means anywhere from five minutes early to twenty minutes late. Especially if they were taking the subway. “Phil said it was a couple that was looking to move in together.” You shrug and look around. You’ve got to haul down a couple more boxes, but the apartment was really clean. While you had lived here, you had made sure to take care of it. “Hopefully they like it. I’m ready to be done with all this.”

“You should’ve just let me pay to break the lease.” He counters but you walk over and press your finger to his lips. “Remember, baby, not everything can be bought with money. We are working on that, right?” You ask, wanting to make sure he knows he can’t just throw cash at your marriage to make it work. He has to be emotionally and physically present, help you, be there for you. He nods, kissing your fingertip, “I’m working on it. Therapist says my parents gave me some bad habits.” You caress his cheek, knowing he’s doing his best and you love him for it. Even if he absolutely refused to go to therapy at first. You think it’s helped him process everything that’s happened and given him a safe space to talk about his emotions. The buzzer sounds in the apartment just as you are boxing up the last of your things and you walk over to the phone, “come on up.” You order and open the door for them just as Harry goes to carry a box downstairs. When he’s on the threshold, his eyes widen, “Lucy, uh, John. Good to see you.” He sounds shocked and sets the box down to hold out his hand to John.

Turning around, you are shocked to see Lucy. The woman who Harry had been dating and wanting to marry for all the wrong reasons. “Harry.” She seems just as surprised and she looks over to see you and says your name. “I’m sorry, are we in the wrong place?” She asks, but you shake your head. John, the man currently looking a little uncomfortable, is good looking, but you don’t think that he’s nearly as attractive as your husband. “No, you’re looking at the apartment, right? 2B? This is it.” You wave your hand around. “The place comes furnished if you want. I’m not keeping anything.” John slips his arm around Lucy’s waist. “That’s good, right babe? I don’t have much besides my bed.” He looks over at you and Harry and gives a small tilt of his head. “We are moving in together. Finally getting rid of my roommates.” He jokes.

Harry resists the urge to roll his eyes that a grown man is finally getting rid of his roommates but he keeps his mouth shut and looks at Lucy. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.” Lucy smiles back and lets John show her around the apartment, following you. When you gesture to the bedroom, her eyes widen at the ring on your finger. “Oh, uh, congratulations. I didn’t know you got married.” She says, remembering the times she’d speak to you when confirming dates with Harry. The man himself comes over, reaching for your hand to press a kiss to the back of it, “my wife is moving in with me.” He winks at you when he stands straight.

“Your wife?” She’s surprised, her brow arched up and she looks between the two of you with a small smile. “It looks like you weren’t hard pressed to find love after all.” She hums. It’s surprising that he had chosen someone right in front of him, but perhaps there was history she didn’t know about. You smile, flustering slightly at his affection and lean in to kiss his cheek. “It seems like it was sudden,” you tell her, “but it was eight years in the making.”

Lucy is surprised at that, neither you nor Harry had shown any signs of a previous relationship. She isn’t bothered. She has John and his vow to love her everyday. That’s what she wanted. “Well, congratulations.” She smiles and John squeezes her waist, “congrats, man.” He says to Harry who grins, “thank you.” The couple take another look around the apartment and whisper softly until John says, “we are taking it.” You grin, “perfect. I’ll be out today so I’m sure you guys can move in whenever.” Lucy nods, glad that John is taking this step to build a life together. “Thank you.” She says, shocked when she sees Harry picking up another box. He’s moving you into his place by his own hand. Something she never envisioned him doing. It seems like both her and Harry are with the people who bring out the best in them. “We will get out of your hair.” John says, “thanks again and, uh, congrats.” Harry nods, “thanks. Maybe see you guys around.” Both parties know that’s highly unlikely but for politeness, everyone nods and says goodbye. Once they are gone, Harry exhales and you walk over to him. “You okay? Was that weird?” He shakes his head, “not in the way I thought it would be. Just - I can’t believe she picked him. He’s a loser.”

“Love sometimes doesn’t make sense.” You remind him softly. “Some would say you picked a loser.” He opens his mouth to protest but you put your finger over his lips again. “I didn’t say they were right.” You add. “And you don’t care what anyone else thinks anyway. Because you love me.”

He grabs your waist, pulling you closer so you are pressed into him, “I love you.” He murmurs, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours. You cup his cheeks, “not everything is about material things. Love exists beyond that.” You murmur and he sighs, closing his eyes, “I know that now. I love you, honey.” He promises, pressing his lips to yours and you slide your hand to caress the hair at the back of his neck. He groans when your tongue meets his and he pulls back for a second, “what do you say to using your bed one last time?” He smirks and you giggle, “you’re a bad influence, Mr. Castillo.” You take his hand to guide him to your bedroom and he eagerly follows, “only for you, Mrs. Castillo.” He can’t believe how lucky he is to have you. He wishes he had seen what was right in front of him all those years ago but you’ve both grown in that time. He now knows that you can’t buy love. No matter how much money you have.

[pumpkin-belly]

old man in the sun 🥲

[writersblockiskillingme]

Russian Roulette | The Salesman

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader

Summary: After doing everything in your power to find the salesman who got you and Gi-hun into all this mess, he unexpectedly shows up in your motel room.

Warning/s: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!!, angst, unspoken feelings (until now), guns, playing Russian Roulette, threatening, mocking, blood, character death, cursing (maybe, idk), tears, talk about the games, tension, reader gives off femme fatale energy, also reader has longer hair to fit into a braid but if you don't just ignore it please, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I just watched the first few episodes, and for a little while, I got out of the writers block. NO SPOILERS, PLEASE!

Prequel to this fic here!

Rain was pouring down like crazy, wind blowing around as I drove my black car with full speed as I tried to get to the Pink Motel that Gi-hun and I co-owned as fast as I possibly could after today's events. Gun that was placed on the seat next to me was jumping slightly as I drow down the road every time I hit a bump or such. My left hand gripped the steering wheel til my knuckles turned pure white as my right hand gripped the phone to the same extent.

"I found bloodstains there!" I practically shouted into my phone as I came to a stop, the images of blood seeping down the trash bags and the knife thrown on the ground never really leaving my mind. "Gi-hun is still looking, I'm sure they didn't get far from that alley."

"What do we do, miss?"

"Check all the CCTV and dashcam footage you can collect from the area and keep asking around." I continued to practically shout for him to hear me over the rain on the street, my braid swinging over on my left shoulder as I got out of the car, running towards the entrance to the Pink Motel.

"I'll join you soon." And with that, I ended the call, quickly putting my phone in the left pocket of my jacket.

I roughly pulled loose threads of hair that fell on my eyes as I quickly took out the key. However, I came to a sudden stop. Something wasn't right. I found myself freezing as I slowly moved my head to look around. That's when I noticed. The sign of the Pink Motel was lit up.

Someone is here, and they want me to know that.

I stood there in the rain for a little while before I decided to take a deep breath before entering. I walked up all the way to the fourth floor before entering, the light going on as I did. I walked into my bedroom as quietly as I could. But even before I could prepare myself for what I was about to see, just as I walked to the end of the first corner, I saw him.

After three years of endlessly, tirelessly trying to find him, he was here. Right in front of me. He was standing in front of my wall, a shining black gun in his hand, looking at the calendar on which I crossed the dates with red marker every single day for three years. Next to in was a map of the underground, every single route mapped out, drawn on, and my handwriting shone on it to.

"It's been a long time, Miss."

For a while, I said nothing. I was just standing there, soaking wet, the rain that I took with me inside dripping on the floor. I was staking in his appearance for a moment. He was just as tall as I remember, standing there in his suit. For a moment, it seemed like he didn't change one bit, like nothing changed from the moment that I fist saw him on the train station three years ago.

But it did.

His hair was longer, I won the games alongside Gi-hun, we weren't on the train station, but in my Motel room, he wasn't holding a briefcase, he was holding a gun and I didn't.

But his voice was the same, he was still as tall as I remember, I suppose his smile was the same, too. And maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same feelings he did three years ago before I gained and lost it all.

I just sighed and moved towards the table I ate. There was a towel that I threw last night. I started to pat my hair, trying to dry it off as I looked around for some dry clothes.

"You should've gotten on that plane that day." He said, looking over at me as I paused.

"I changed my mind when I saw you there." I said before continuing to dry myself.

The moment of quiet continued as I put the towel away. He tapped the map with his gun before he started to speak again. I truly didn't know how to feel. After I wasted three years trying to find him, he just shows up at my motel room. Funny.

"It looks like you've been trying hard to find me, darling." I could just hear that ignorant smirk in his voice. Motherfucker.

"Don't let it get to your head." I told him slowly, my voice completely calm. "I just wanted to thank you." I said as I took off my wet jacket, throwing it in the corner.

"Thank me?" He asked as he sat down on one of the sofas by the table next to my bed. I turned to look at him slowly, a dry jacket in my hand. That's when I noticed blood on the collar of his suit and his face. Motherfucker.

"For inviting me to the game." I said as I approached him, his eyes on me as I sat down, opposite him. "I won and took a bloody fortune with me."

He kept quiet, listening to me, his dark eyes flickering all over my face as I spoke.

"So the decent thing of me to do would be to thank you for it."

"I'm just a messenger who delivers invitations." He smirked, but before he could say more, I continued, all off my anger resurfacing.

"And just who had you deliver those invitations, handsome?" I spoke, venom infecting my every word. "Let me meet him. I have something to say to him."

"Give me the message, and I'll pass it along." He continued, giving me a smile at the end. It appears that I was right. His smile is the same.

"Oh, dear." I mockingly pouted as I crossed my legs. "I'm afraid that it's not something I can discuss with an underling like you."

His smile quivered as he raised his eyebrow. Waiting on me to continue.

"You prey on people who are hanging by a thread and corner them at subway stations." I could feel myself slowly starting to shake from anger and despair. "Someone like you wouldn't be able to understand what I'm trying to say, of course."

For a while, there was silence yet again. We were just looking at each other. Our eyes never leaving each other's.

"You know what the funniest thing was?"

"What, miss?"

"For a moment, when I was hunting you down, I was just delusional enough to think that we could actually team up. You know? Take down the games and whoever was behind them. I liked you. And I liked to think that. But now I realize just how wrong I was." I whispered, turning away from him as I spoke. Yet I still felt his eyes on me. "And boy was I wrong. You will never change. You like the monstrous things that you are doing."

"How do you think I got to where I am now?"

"I don't fucking care." I spat at him as I turned to look at him again, his expression unreadable. "I don't care how you became their dog. I just want you to bring me your master."

He looked down, sighing as he cracked his neck, gun still in his hold. After a while he spoke again.

"I used to work in the games when I was younger. I removed and burned the bodies of countless people like you."

He was the pink guard once.

"'These things aren't human. They're just trash utterly useless in this world.' I kept telling myself that and worked hard for a few years." He spoke, suddenly smiling again. "Then they gave me a gun."

The triangle guard.

"It felt pretty good." He said as he lifted up his gun, examining it. "Like my existence was acknowledged for the first time in my life. I don't know which year it was, but one day, I was about to shoot a man who had lost a game. The guy seemed familiar. Guess who it was."

I kept quiet.

"My dad." He finally said. "My dad was suddenly standing in front of me. He was in tears, desperately begging me to spare his life."

He suddenly moved his hand, placing the gun in front of my forehead, but his suddenly, quick movement did not startle me one bit. I was used to it.

"I shot him right in the middle of his forehead, and realized, 'Ah. I'm cut out for this job.'"

He was looking straight at me, his dark eyes mad. I narrowed mine at him. Was I supposed to feel sorry for him? Maybe, but I didn't. Not only did he enjoy it, but he also has no idea how it was like for me. All the things Gi-hun and I went through. All of people we lost along the way... Ali... Sae-byeok... Sang-woo...

"Whether you shoot people in there or con them outside, it doesn't change anything." I said, slowly leaning over towards him. "You have always been nothing more than their dog."

He clicked his gun, putting his finger on the trigger, his expression darkening.

"Miss." He started, his hand shaking slightly as I kept completely still. "Do you think you're special because you won the game?"

I said nothing. My expectation still as I leaned forward just a bit more, pressing my forehead directly on his gun. His dark expression broke into one of shock.

"Someone like you could never know or understand how I made it out of there alive. And how it feels to play the games."

Suddenly, he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. My expression barely changed, yet I could he on his face that my eyes old him every. Shock, disappointment and sadness.

He sighed before leaning over to me on the table that until now kept us at a distance. He was quiet for a while. I suppose he has always been that way.

"Let's play a game." He smiled at me.

I didn't say anything. He pulled out his phone and placed it on the table, letting a song play.

Time to say goodbye.

He leaned back against the seat as he lifted up his gun.

"I'm sure you've seen this in the movies." He started to explain, never breaking eye contact with me. "It's called Russian Roulette."

Motherfucker.

"Usually, you place one bullet in the gun, spin the cylinder, and pull the trigger." He said, clicking the gun in its place before pulling the trigger, explaining the game as he showed me what to do. "And before the next round, you spin the cylinder again. It rests the odds back to 1 in 6."

"I know." I mumbled and he smiled.

"But I'd like to make this game a little more serious." He smirked. "Because you're truly special, love."

"Cut to the chase." I glared at him and his stupid antics. He blinked at me and continued.

"We'll take turns pulling the trigger without spinning the cylinder again. The bullet will be fired within six attempts, and the game will be over." He paused. "What do you say?"

"Spin the gun." I frowned.

He smirked before gently placing the gun on the table. This could end badly on both sides, but for a moment, I found myself being selfish. Maybe, just maybe, if I lost this game after everything I went through, I could die and find peace with the people I lost. I could join them and leave with the feelings I have for him, that he possibly realized, unsaid. I could finally end it all. The night terrors, the time I spent searching for him, my cigarette addiction, mourning what I lost and what I couldn't have, yet at the same time not enjoying the money I got form the games. Who could enjoy that? Who could possibly enjoy living the life that I live.

He spinned the gun, and its tip pointed at me. Without a second thought, I took the gun and placed it by the side of my head. A few seconds later, not looking away from him, I pulled the trigger. Noting happened. That chamber was empty.

I put the gun on the table. I barely had time to move my hand before he took the gun, placed it by his head just like I did and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He sighed in content as he placed the gun back on the table, smiling at me almost lovingly. I knew.

I took the gun and placed it by my head again, but before I could just pull the trigger he spoke up.

"I've always wondered how you made it out of there alive." He smiled before he laughed a little. "For, one thing, you were even terrible at ddakji."

I said nothing, glaring at him. I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened once again.

He looked at me, impressed by my luck so far. I looked him straight in the eyes as I threw the gun on the table. It slid over on the other side, right in front of me.

He took the gun after he took a moment to just look at me. Not breaking eye contact, he took the gun. Leaned over to me until he was basically touching me, pointing the gun at me. Then he did something that I did not expect at all. He put the gun in his mouth.

Motherfucker.

He pulled the trigger. I winced a little. Nothing again. He laughed at my expression as I tried my hardest to keep myself composed. He slowly took the gun out of his mouth before sitting back, putting the gun back on the table.

I took the gun and as I was about to place it by my head he spoke up again.

"What's the matter?" He asked me, raising his eyebrows. "Is your mind starting to race?"

I scoffed slightly.

Motherfucker.

"Now your odds of death are 1 in 2." He nodded. "That's pretty high indeed. I'm sure you're afraid, darling. Lots going through your mind."

I said nothing.

"Let me guess what you're thinking right now." Motherfucker. "'The gun is in my hand. Screw the rules. Pull the trigger once or twice, and I can blow his face off.' Isn't that right?"

I kept looking at him, glaring as I did. All while he spoke. "If you and Gi-hun want to meet the person you mentioned earlier, the key is in my pocket." At that I allowed my eyes to travel all over him. "You can simply shoot me with that gun and take it. But I'll have you admit one thing."

He took a moment to pause, my hand still holding the gun by my head. He leaned over once again.

"That you're a piece of trash, just like Gi-hun, just like everyone else that was in the games." He leaned over more closely, our lips practically touching as he spoke. "A piece of trash who got lucky and made it out of the dumpster."

He laughed as I pressed the gun against my head, our lips barely an inch away from each other's. This was it, I thought to myself. This round will determine if I live or die. I tightened the grip on the gun, my knuckles turning white again. I pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He looked at me, then at the gun and then back at me. I started to chuckle lowly, like a maniac. Perhaps I was one. I watched his face closely as I pulled the gun away from my head. The grip on the gun still tight as I pointed it at his chin before slowly opening up my palm, waiting on him to take the final, real shot.

His hand touched mine. I felt him and myself freeze at the contact as he took the gun from my hand. I pulled my hand away as he looked at the gun.

"What's the matter?" I taunted him, my face mirroring the smirk that he always wears. "Is your mind starting to race?"

He said nothing as I spoke to him.

"That's right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me." He looked pale at my words. "But... before you leave me forever this time. I'll have you admit two things."

He looked at me as I brought my hand at his cheek, wiping a little bit of blood on his face.

"You put a mask on your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark, and wave your tail for them. You're nothing more than their dog." I told him before my voice became gentle.

He waited on me, his eyes soft.

"And regarding this." I said as I waved my hand slightly between the two of us. "You really are a dog. A dog that loves me. And... perhaps I am a fool, too. Because I love a dog that could've made it all work out for us but was too much of a coward to do so."

I leaned over to him, my hand landing under his chin, holding him.

"Admit it." I whispered as we looked each other in the eyes. "Admit that you love me, that you did ever since you gave me that fucking card."

For a moment, there was silence. His tortured eyes, looking at me. I knew. I always did. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, for a moment. This would be the last time that I spoke to him, that I could look into his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

All of a sudden, there was a loud sound followed by blood spraying my face as his body fell backward.

I stood up and walked over to him. I don't know how long I stood there, but after a while, I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. My hand touched my cheek as I whipped it away.

Motherfucker.

[landoughnut]

Pit Stop Staring

♡ masterlist - request

♡ pairing - lando norris x mechanic!fem!reader

♡ summary - lando notices you during a pit stop, gets distracted and stares at you, and embarrasses himself on the radio being aired as he gushes over you, but with a little push from Zak, he makes his move on you!

♡ warnings - fluff, BLUSHY and nervous lando, love at first sight, a pinch of jealousy, Zak's a wing man, lando being cute and STUTTERINGGG hehehe

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.86k | #ilovetommy

Today was your first day working as a mechanic during an actual race, and you couldn't be more excited. You'd just finished your months of training and you felt pretty confident in yourself, so you weren't too nervous.

The McLaren team was more than welcoming when you first started, although some were a little apprehensive to have a girl working with the heavy tires, you proved them completely wrong and quickly gained their admiration, making friends with some as well.

As for the two papaya drivers, you had only briefly met Oscar about a month ago while leaving a meeting. He told you he was happy to be working with you soon, and he thought you will do amazing. You spoke shortly before he was being called off by someone, but he said goodbye and wished you best of luck.

The other driver, Lando, you had unfortunately not met yet. You heard quite a lot about him, and people said he was kind with a great sense of humor, so you crossed your fingers and wished you were able to catch him and introduce yourself. You also had seen some edits of him on your feed, not that you would tell anyone that, but you couldn't deny that he was quite a looker.

Back to today, though, you were waiting to see the bright papaya cars pull into the pit stop for their tire exchanges. After some laps, the first one to pull up was Oscar, and you and the others quickly got to work with a successful change in just about 2 seconds.

You beamed as he drove away and got a high five from your mechanic friend, Tommy, and he grinned at you, "That was great! And your first time too! You'll be putting me out of my job soon," he laughs.

You shake your head and poke his side, walking back to the garage, "Don't be silly! I did learn from the best," you say and give him a dramatic wink.

"Ha. Ha. You flatter me," he pats your head. You just push his arm away and turn your head to look at the race stats.

Oscar is in a good fourth place currently, and Lando in second, four seconds behind Max. You watch the race for about three more minutes before you hear that Lando was told to box next lap, so you and the mechanics rush out to the pit once again and prepare your gear.

A few moments pass before you can spot Lando's bright helmet in his car coming closer. He finally arrives and pulls up into his spot, while doing so, he glances around and his eyes land on you.

His mouth drops open slightly and he whispers a little, "Wow." Everyone does his tire change just as fast as Oscars, but Lando was still staring at you, who he thinks might be an angel sent down from above just for him.

Wow, he thinks to himself again, you have to be the most gorgeous person he's ever seen. He doesn't even realize that everyone has cleared the way for him to exit the stop until he sees you tilt your head and he hears his race engineer's voice, "Lando! GO! What are you doing, mate?!"

That snaps Lando back to reality, and he quickly drives away, now in last place due to how long he was there. He feels his neck and cheeks heat up in embarrassment. There's no way he would have a chance with you after that.

"I-I'm so sorry, she was s-so beautiful, and she looks like an a-angel, I-I got distracted," he stutters quietly to Will, his race engineer.

"Oh my- Lando this is being aired, you can't say stuff like that, mate!" Will sighs but he can't help but laugh a little bit. However Lando does the opposite now, he chews his lip like he's about to cry of humility, since now he knows you just heard him say that and you were the only girl there, so you know he had to be talking about you.

Back to where you were, you laughed at the radio message, curious to who he was stuttering over. Tommy's eyes bulge as he hears it, head whipping toward you.

You look at him and furrow your eyebrows, "What?"

He just blinds at you before yelling, "Lando Norris said you're beautiful! And look like an angel!"

"What? No he didn't?"

"Are you- who else would he be talking about?!" Tommy puts his hands on your shoulder and gently shakes you.

"Uhh," you laugh and glance at the other mechanics who are smirking and you and raising their eyebrows up and down. "I don't know, there are some women team members right over there," you point to the side.

Tommy just drops his head down and shakes it, "No. He was talking about you!"

"But.. I'm.. well, me? Just an average new mechanic," you look down at your uniform, "in some very unflattering working clothes."

Tommy just steps back and crosses his arms, "First off, don't ever say you're 'just you', because you're my best friend here," he whispers, so the others won't hear him, and you giggle. "Second, the clothes may be a little unflattering but you're still a very pretty girl," he smiles at you.

"Awhhhhh, Tommy! Who knew you were such a sap!" You hug the boy in thanks and he reciprocates it as you walk to the garage once again.

"So are you going to ask him out later?"

You almost choke on your breath, "What? No! Of course not! Are you crazy?"

He rolls his eyes, "Come on, he was just stuttering. Lando Norris was stuttering over you, if that isn't love at first sight then I don't know what is," he shrugs.

"Tommy!" You slap his arm, "We are done with this conversation."

"But-"

"End of discussion!" You huff, turning on your heels and walk away. Leaving your friend to rub his face in defeat.

When the race ended with Lando placed seventh due to the mishap from before, he hopped out of the car and rushed over to Zak.

Zak pulls the boy in for a hug and ruffles his hair, which was quite the opposite reaction Lando had thought he would see, since he cost the team points.

Once he lets go of Lando, the only thing he gets out of his mouth is, "Who was that?"

Zak lets out a laugh and tries to keep in a grin, "Who? Her?" he nods over to you, standing while chatting with Tommy again. Lando frowns as he watches you two.

"Are they dating?" he asks the older man.

"Hmm," he pretends to think about it, "yes," he nods. Of course he's only kidding, trying the get a rise out of the British boy.

"What?" Lando's head snaps to the man, looking utterly devastated. Zak starts laughing loudly, looking at him, and thinks this is what the human version of a kicked puppy would look like.

"I'm only joking, buddy, why don't you go and ask her?" Zak pats Lando's shoulder.

"U-uh I don't know...."

"Oh, come on! You're Lando Norris!"

The boy sighs and looks at you longingly. That was until you glanced over at him and he quickly turned back to Zak, his face now turning red again at being caught. "What about no work relationships?"

Zak sighs and shakes his head, "Listen, I'll talk to people about it and I'll make it work, okay?" He smiles and Lando lets his lips twitch into a tiny smile. "Now, go get your girl!" He turns his shoulders and pushes him forward a little bit.

Lando blinks fast and his heart races as he nervously makes his way over to you two.

You don't notice but Tommy does and bites back a teasing comment. "Lando Norris! The legendary man himself!"

You look to your right and see the boy bouncing slightly on his feet, twisting his hands and he looks back and forth between you both. "H-hi," he whispers to you, his ears turning red at your kind gaze.

"Hi! It's nice to finally meet you," you smile at him.

Tommy nods, "Yeah, and nice radio message today, man, real smooth," he chuckles.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando now wishes the floor would swallow him whole. "Uh, y-yeah, thanks?"

Tommy just laughs, "Oh! I think someone is calling me, gotta go!"

You watch him walk away, and Lando glares at him. "Did you hear someone calling him?" you ask.

"No, but, um, I-I'm sorry for today, a-and I didn't-"

You quickly shake your head and smile, "No! Don't apologize, really! I'm honored!" You put your hand on his arm, causing him to tense. You quickly remove it and apologize, "I'm so sorry! I should have asked-"

"N-No!" Lando says, and Zak drops his head into his hands as he watches the scene from afar. "You can touch me anytime! I-I mean- bloody hell- n-not like that! I mean you can if you wa-" he slaps a hand over his mouth before he can embarrass himself and more.

You just blush as you watch the boy, you find it endearing, to be honest, you've never had someone act like this with you before. "Lando! Please, don't worry, I think your rambling is cute, and... you yourself are cute too," you put your hands behind your back.

"Me? Really? You think I'm c-cute?" He lets out a nervous laugh in disbelief.

"Is that so hard to believe?" You frown.

"I... guess not.. but you're.. you! W-way out of my league..." he trails off.

"You have to be joking!"

He just looks down at his feet and smiles, his body slowly untensing as he feels a little less nervous. It's not that he's stuttering and blushing because he's scared of you, he's just never met someone so... perfect.

He slowly raises his eyes back up to look at you, "Well... then would you m-maybe want to... get dinner with me later?"

Your smile widens at the hopeful look in his eyes, you pinch your arm once, just to be sure this is really happening and not a dream. "Of course! Oh, I'd love to, would you like my number to send me the details?" you ask him.

He nods and pats his pocket for his phone, "Oh! I left my phone in my driver's room... but if you have yours, I'll give you mine?"

"Sure," you nod and hand him your phone, watching as he creates a contact for himself. "Well, I do have to go back, I promised my friends to hang out for a bit after the race but I'll see you later," you tell him.

He smiles at you, "Alright, see you!"

You turn around, walking to your friends who were giggling to themselves, watching the whole thing.

Lando is left in his spot, practically lovestruck, "What a woman," he whispers to himself dreamily.

He jumps with a yelp when he feels a hand on his shoulder, "Well done, kid! You got yourself a date!"

Lando turns to look at a way too excited Zak Brown, "Yeah... I suppose I did."

[fairsweetlonging]

svsss au where shen qingqiu can't go through with the endless abyss quest, and is just staring at binghe's tear-streaked face, listening to him rambling through excuses and apologies, not saying anything himself. he can't make himself do it, and prepares himself to die, but since the quest must be completed, the world bends to fulfill it, accidentally throwing both luo binghe and shen qingqiu into the abyss.

the stress of it causes shen qingqiu to have a qi deviation, and together with the sheer absolute force of demonic qi slamming into him from the abyss, he's out before he even hits the ground.

since the evil speech didn't take place and shen qingqiu never did anything except stare at luo binghe with an inexplicable look of resignation on his face, luo binghe is hopeful that it's not too late, and he does everything he can to drag his shizun to a "safe" place once they're in the abyss. now, luo binghe doesn't just have himself to save, but his shizun as well, and the force of his determination activates his full protagonist aura (aka binghe is planning to x2 speedrun this thing).

when shen qingqiu wakes up again and finds that he's completed the abyss quest, he doesn't waste a second before comforting his little demon lamb and assuring him this changes nothing, and binghe isn't evil for being a demon.

shizun's words give binghe the additional motivation boost he needs to start tearing through the abyss to find a way out, and though the abyss is horrible and all-consuming, it isn't as bad now that shizun is here to treat his wounds and comfort him and give him loads of information that, by all means, shizun shouldn't have known about, but he does, somehow, and it makes binghe's travels infinitely easier (and also avoids loads of wife plots shen yuan never liked).

they aren't going as fast as shen qingqiu would have liked, he isn't going as fast, he can barely breathe down here and his qi is like a beacon to abyssal creatures, only barely hidden because of without-a-cure, and he's trying to tell binghe everything he knows as soon as possible, to give him everything he needs to get out of the abyss by himself, because shen qingqiu knows he won't make it that far.

the abyss isn't made for him, both narratively and literally, he can't survive here, it's a miracle he even survived the initial drop. he can't bear to tell binghe, but he knows, and meng mo seems to know too, when he visits shen qingqiu in a dream to ask him how he's going to break it to the boy. shen qingqiu has no answer. the plot has been thrown completely off, and for the first time shen qingqiu is at a complete loss. he was never supposed to be here, and luo binghe was supposed to kill him after getting out, what will happen to the plot now?

of course binghe notices, eventually, that shen qingqiu is slowly getting poisoned by the abyss, and that shizun's surplus of doting isn't just to show acceptance, it's to say goodbye.

and shen qingqiu does die in the abyss, after little more than a year. it isn't even a beast or a plant or the acid lava boiling ground that kills him, nothing binghe could have fought or prevented. one day, after resting in a hidden shelter, shen qingqiu simply doesn't get up. his qi has been entirely corrupted, his meridians torn beyond repair, and he's gasping for breath between every bit of information that he tries to make a sobbing luo binghe remember. shen qingqiu has never seen binghe as devastated and lost as he does now, and it's horrible, but he can't do anything about it. the mushroom body isn't ready yet, he holds out no hope for that.

since luo binghe is the protagonist, shen qingqiu is determined to make sure binghe grows stronger from this all and continues his path to becoming powerful and heroic, basically making it his dying wish.

shen qingqiu dies, and his soul is transported to the mushroom body, but it takes years for it to fully develop, and binghe is convinced shen qingqiu is dead.

like in svsss he gets into a war with cang qiong about shen qingqiu's body, because binghe still tries to bring shen qingqiu back.

seven years later, shen qingqiu digs his way out of a grave and, because there is no bad blood between him and binghe this time, immediately goes to cang qiong sect, covered in dirt, and asks what he missed.

[haologram]

hanging by a moment 🍻 j.ww [m]

synopsis: it's been a few years since you've been home for your birthday, and wonwoo can't wait to see you...right? genre: estranged childhood friends to lovers au. fluff, angst, suggestive themes. pairing: photographer!jeon wonwoo x fem!baker!reader | side pairing: kim mingyu x chou tzuyu word count: 15.8k rating: 18+. minors please do not interact. warnings: swearing, alcohol. food mentions. mentions of jealousy, breakups. wonwoo is a little bitter. pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc.) kissing. what to listen to: here is gone - the goo goo dolls ; over you - daughtry ; broken - lifehouse ; hanging by a moment - lifehouse ; long way home - 5 seconds of summer ; say yes - seventeen author's note: happiest birthday to my baby @wqnwoos ♡ i hope your birthday was full of wonderful memories and you had lots of good food, please continue staying healthy and i love you. [star dividers by @/cafekitsune here on tumblr!]

– LAST YEAR: GOYANGI SWEETS, HARLEM, NEW YORK.

"Since when do you celebrate Valentine's Day, Y/N?" Jeon Wonwoo's voice was staticky on the other end, and you rolled your eyes as you kept swiping icing on the red velvet cupcakes you'd been agonizing over for six days. Trying and dumping mixes, failed taste tests, a few burnt practice rounds all led up to this: you, up at two in the morning on FaceTime with Wonwoo, who was just now starting to finish up his work day.

You hadn't meant to move so far away, truly – or at least, not for this long. Your best friends were all back home, and the drastic time difference did work for some of them – but you rarely managed to catch Wonwoo. He would usually spend his time holed away in his bedroom or out with Kim Mingyu. However, since Mingyu moved in with his fiancée, Chou Tzuyu, three years ago – Wonwoo had the apartment to himself and you were his only company.

"Since when don't you, Jeon? No hot date for Desperation Day?"

"You watch too many movies, there's no such thing. Anyway, shouldn't you be sleeping? You open in, like, two hours." He was right, you did open in two hours.

There was just something comforting about hearing Wonwoo's voice so late in the night. It makes you feel warm, less alone.

And it's not like Wonwoo knew about your recent fight with your boyfriend.

It wasn't anything serious – just you telling him to get a fucking job, and him insisting that his job was rubbing your feet after a long day at work. It annoyed you so bad that you asked him to leave the apartment for the weekend. It's not that Wonwoo doesn't like Euijoo, but he certainly isn't his number one fan. You argue that you can't dislike someone you don't even know, but Wonwoo has made it clear that Euijoo is simply never going to be a part of his life if you're not present to make it happen. It's always been that way with Wonwoo, though. He quietly disapproved of most of the men you dated, even when you were back home – but he never made you feel bad about his perspective. He simply shared when you asked, and he didn't sugar coat it.

Before Euijoo, there was his clubmate, Hansol Chwe. Before Hansol, there was his teammate, Choi Seungcheol. Before Seungcheol, there was Mingyu. 

And every single one got a side-eyed glance, even his best friend.

Slowly, you stopped talking to Wonwoo about guys, because he always seemed to be right about you deserving more. To be frank, you weren’t too keen on not doing what you wanted to do, much less who. 

You and Wonwoo never breached that friendship line, and while you found solace in his irrevocable appreciation for you as a friend, you found it odd that around the time you began preparing for your relocation across the world, he floated away.

So much so that he hadn't even gone to the airport to say goodbye, or give you a hug. You hadn't seen Wonwoo in the weeks leading up to it after you told him you'd be leaving, and he always had an excuse as to why he couldn't call or hang out. You tried time and time again, only for him to eventually say he just didn't have time.

He did. You knew he did, because you saw him all over Mingyu and Tzuyu's Instagram stories. You saw him playing chess with Yoon Jeonghan. You saw him at the art museum with Xu Minghao.

You saw him soft launch a girl on his Instagram story the moment you boarded your plane. His story had been posted twenty minutes before, while you were getting your heart ripped out. You’d gone to New York with eyes full of tears, and not just because you were leaving behind everything you knew. 

Wonwoo was home, and you wouldn’t have him with you.

Nevertheless, Wonwoo was never…directly the reason behind your breakups – at least, to your understanding. You never toed the line of flirting with him and vice versa, you never made your friendship out to be something it wasn't.

You and Mingyu broke up because of school but stayed extremely close. You met his then-girlfriend,Tzuyu, six months into freshman year, and you were the first person Mingyu ever told that he wanted to marry her. You even helped Mingyu build a Pinterest wedding board when he would visit you and Wonwoo.

The others? Seungcheol made the mature decision and broke up with you because of jealousy issues on his part. Hansol broke up with you with an apology and nothing more, and you tried your best to take it in stride. However, taking things in stride is not your forte – which is how you ended up with Euijoo.

Hansol broke up with you at the airport the day you left for New York, the guilt taking over his features as your eyes widened and filled with tears. You had muttered that you understood, that it was fine – but the fourteen-hour flight from Seoul to New York was full of tears and sniffling. You're sure the woman next to you had been wondering if you were okay, but you're also almost positive that the fourteen-hour loop of 5SOS' Close As Strangers through your headphones spoke for itself.

You had met Euijoo at a bar a week after you landed in New York. Your apartment had long been ready and furnished, waiting for your arrival. You sullied it that same night by bringing him home, the aura of the apartment darkening the longer he stayed. And stayed, he did. It's like he had nowhere else to go, and you were far too nice about it, too. 

Hence, how he became your 'boyfriend' and how he 'moved in with you.' 

Bullshit; he went home to his mother's one-bedroom condo and picked up a dusty Playstation and a pillow he liked – that was his 'moving in.'

As for why Wonwoo doesn't like him, it's obvious – Euijoo is a loser. He has no goals, no sense of urgency, no whimsical nature – nothing like you. At least, that was what Wonwoo told you the first time you called him from New York…which was over six months since you left Seoul.

You wanted to believe there was a twinge of jealousy in Wonwoo’s voice when you told him about Euijoo. His brows furrowed, he sucked his teeth more times than you could count, and he refused to meet him when you offered to have him say hello.

You couldn't lie to yourself, you knew your relationship with Wonwoo was dwindling. Your calls were growing sparse, he didn’t tell you anything about his personal life, and you still hadn’t gone back home. To him, to your friends, to your parents. The two of you had grown up together, just slightly out of each other's circles. There were two or three people who were your 'friends of friends' that connected you, before Mingyu was the first official bridge between the two of you in the seventh grade. You went on to date Mingyu for three years during high school, before you wound up going to a different university than he did – but attended with Wonwoo, instead. You hated to admit it, but you knew that you clung to Wonwoo like gum did a shoe. You hid behind his broadening frame at fraternity parties, you would ask him over to your dorm (and later, your apartment) for game nights. You eventually started baking for him – cookies, cupcakes, the like. And then you met Seungcheol, on your way to Wonwoo's apartment. You slammed into him, painting his white t-shirt and shorts in pink icing – and you remembered stuttering over your words as you watched his brows furrow while he wiped icing off his stomach. He ended up clicking his tongue, nodding his head and shrugging.

"I guess you can call it avant garde, right?"

The two of you exchanged numbers, and you wound up being late to Wonwoo's place – but at that time, it didn't matter. Not when you scored a date with an older boy that had pouty lips and the thickest thighs you'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. Wonwoo had noticed you were giggly that night, but chose to brush it off when he walked behind you and saw you typing away to an unsaved number.

You and Seungcheol ended up dating for about a year, but the jealousy issues began before your relationship even started. He knew Wonwoo, and they were on the same soccer team – but something about the way Wonwoo spoke about you seemed to tick him off. No matter how often your lips were on his, your hands on his body, your body in his bed – Seungcheol's eyes always narrowed at the sight of Wonwoo floating around you for whatever reason, even if you initiated contact. 

You cheered at all his games, but Wonwoo was also there even if you wore one of Seungcheol's jerseys. You invited him to your bake sales, yet Wonwoo was always the one taste testing your recipes. You invited Seungcheol to your birthday dinner, and Wonwoo was naturally there.

Wonwoo recounting memories of you as a kid at dinner was what made Seungcheol make the decision to break up with you the following week. He paced around his apartment while you sat on his couch, rattling off all the ways that Wonwoo spoke about you that meant so much more than just a platonic love.

And you didn't comfort Seungcheol, or refute his thoughts. 

In fact, you denied them. You said there was no way Wonwoo saw you as anything more than his friend, you insisted that Wonwoo seeing you in the worst moments of your life was enough to make him feel icky about dating you.

It wasn't until Seungcheol crouched in front of you, holding your hands in his that you understood that he wasn't kidding. He told you that part of growing old together and being in love is seeing each other in those situations and still choosing to care and stay. He told you that Wonwoo holding your hair back as you threw up, Wonwoo knowing all your siblings' names and their favorite things, Wonwoo seeing you riddled with the flu and gross stomach bugs…

Wonwoo cared about you far more than he let on.

You left Seungcheol's apartment that night with a heavy heart and holding the stained white shirt from the first day you met him in your hand. It was still soaked in his cologne, and you remember crying yourself to sleep for two weeks straight.

Wonwoo had been there, and when you told him everything Seungcheol had said – he'd apologized.

He didn't deny anything. He didn't refute any of Seungcheol's feelings.

He apologized, for both making Seungcheol feel that way as well as being the straw that broke the camel's back. You hadn't known what to say, so you just offered to let him stay over and bake cookies with you.

He did, and the two of you gorged yourselves on white chocolate chip cookies while watching White Chicks. You cried again while he was there, and he wiped your tears and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He held you close as you pouted into his shirt, the soft scent of patchouli from his cologne settling into your skin as a blanket of comfort.

You also remember peering up at him through teary eyes, and his lips instinctively pressing to your hairline. His mumbled words never left your mind, either.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.”

You didn't date again for a bit after that, and Wonwoo made it a point to introduce you as his friend any time the two of you hung out. It made you feel odd, the way he forced the agenda that you were his friend and nothing more when you had no issue just going with the flow. You understood he didn't want a repeat of your relationship with Seungcheol, but it felt like he was forcing something more than just the label of your friendship.

People often asked if something had happened between the two of you — of which you always denied casually. If they asked Wonwoo, he would scoff, as if he were offended anyone would ever think you were more than just his friend. As if it was gross, or repulsive, to see you as a woman and not just the girl he grew up with. You met Hansol the next school year, a cheeky cinematography freshman that frequented your bake sales. Wonwoo met him there as well, and was the reason you and Hansol met formally. Apparently, Wonwoo and Hansol were both in the AV Club, where Wonwoo also met his first girlfriend: Lee Jaehee.

Lee Jaehee...  

She had also been quite the frequenter of your bake sales. She enjoyed your slutty brownies and the strawberry blondies you made, and the two of you had been so close to becoming friends when Wonwoo asked her out. He'd even asked you to bake something for her and you did it happily, free of charge. However, Wonwoo asking her out meant her finding out that you and him went back over two decades, and the same look that settled in Seungcheol's brows, settled in hers. It was painful, to see how she would tense at your presence at Wonwoo's soccer games, ones you'd always attended. It hurt your feelings to see her give you a quick smile before passing by your booths at the bake sales, not bothering to stop by for a nibble or a chat.

It pained you to know that Wonwoo missed your birthday dinner that year to spend the weekend with her, instead. You wound up going over to Seungcheol's apartment that night, and he comforted you as best as he could – by offering a drink and inviting his friends Jeonghan and Joshua over to entertain you. Despite it all, Seungcheol never really held any resentment towards you – but he did have zero problem telling you how blind you were.

You ignored it, too.

You didn’t like the odd feeling you got in your chest thinking about Wonwoo in any way that wasn’t platonic. You weren't stupid – Wonwoo was incredibly profound with a hint of goofy humor. He was smart, and tall…and handsome…God, he was so handsome, it made you want to bite your fist.

So the idea of his hands on you? His lips on yours, his bed being more than just a drunken sanctuary…

It was too much for you to handle. 

You started dating Hansol during the first semester of your senior year of college. He'd just become a sophomore, and everyone around him had been incredibly surprised that the senior sweetheart at the bake sales stopped making her incredibly soft peanut butter cookies. The reason? Hansol, and his allergy to peanuts.

No one said shit after that, only cooing at your boyfriend's blushy cheeks from your attention.

Your relationship with Hansol also came as a surprise to Wonwoo, and he found out in the strangest way – by walking into your apartment using his spare key and seeing the two of you getting frisky in the kitchen and covered in flour. You hadn't heard him come in, and didn't seem to sense his presence in the threshold of your kitchen. You don't know it, but Wonwoo has the image of you burned in his mind. The slope of your neck as Hansol kissed down it, the way your shirt was pushed up to reveal flour-covered handprints on your bare chest, the way your thighs were flexing around your boyfriend's waist… The sound of your whimper into Hansol's mouth.

He then made his presence known by coughing exaggeratedly, and you and Hansol almost slipped. Wonwoo rolled his eyes as Hansol yanked your shirt back into place, clearing his throat and greeting Wonwoo.

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know that there is no way eating flour out of each other's mouths is sexy." Wonwoo had come over to tell you that he and Jaehee broke up, and he did tell you – but on his way out of your apartment. You could barely hear him as the door closed, but you were also trying to finish what you and your boyfriend started in the kitchen — so you filed it to the back of your mind as you invited Hansol to join you in the shower.

It wasn't until after graduation that you decided to open a pastry shop. However, you were unsure that your at-home learning was enough to satisfy a gaggle of clientele – and decided to start applying to pastry schools. You’d already obtained a business degree, which made the idea only cement further in your head. Hansol had been incredibly supportive, even going as far as sending you applications and fee waivers while he was in class and you were driving around Seoul with Wonwoo looking for work for the time being.

Then you got a letter back from a pastry school in New York City, and Hansol was ecstatic. He paid for your flight and even took a week off school to go visit it with you. He wound up setting up meetings with realtors so you could get an apartment, and the two of you even went as far as looking at empty lease spaces where you could open a business.

You accepted the offer, and the school covered your flight back to Seoul and then back to New York City. Your parents covered your first year of rent at an apartment in SoHo, after you sent back videos of you spinning in the SeaGlass Carousel and having dinner at Shuka.

However, something changed when you went back to Seoul to pack your things. You also realized you had done all of this without even mentioning it to Wonwoo, who seemed slightly distant when you finally met him for dinner at his place after packing up your apartment. Mingyu and Tzuyu had also been there. Hansol also seemed distant for a few days, not bothering to answer your messages or calls. You showed up at his apartment, only for Seungkwan to answer the door with a knowing look and tell you he wasn't home. You remember scowling, and pushing past Seungkwan to see Hansol asleep in his bedroom, tucked away with a Star Wars blanket you'd bought him for his birthday. 

You picked a fight, and Hansol wasn’t having it — said he wasn’t in the right headspace to have this conversation, and asked to rain check it for a better time. You argued there was no better time than the present, and his swollen face (whether from tears or sleep, you were unsure) was enough to make you back off for the time being. He quietly asked you to join him in his bed, and you reluctantly kicked your shoes off and did just that.

He promised he still cared, and promised he still loved you, but it felt different, the way he held you. Like a last hurrah, like a ‘goodbye’ and not a ‘see you later.’ Like things were going to end and there was nothing you could do to change his mind.

You couldn't say you were surprised that Hansol broke up with you a month later, but you were certainly hurt. Wonwoo was also nowhere to be reached at this point, your calls going straight to voicemail and your texts going unread. You assumed he'd finally landed a gig, but it was still unlike him to not respond to you, of all people.

At least, you thought that was what had happened, until you saw his Instagram story.

You stopped wondering where he'd been after that.

It had been four years since then. You hadn't gone back to Seoul once, not even for Christmas or when your parents begged you back. You called for birthdays, you sent gifts out two months in advance. You sent photos of your shop, of your apartment, of you and Euijoo.

Your parents didn't really care about the ones Euijoo was in.

You finally opened your pastry shop in the middle of Harlem – two years after arriving in New York, tweaking your recipes to cater to the local clientele. Your shop was always full of customers and you loved what you did – but most of all, the people loved you. They loved seeing how easily you won people over, how you celebrated your accomplishments by putting even more effort into your business, how your employees cared about you and your shop.

You truly became an essential part of some people's lives – Ms. Julianna who came in every morning for a chocolate éclair; Mr. Cortéz came in every Saturday morning for a box of mixed empanadas and one butterscotch cupcake for his granddaughter, Elisa; Mrs. Stegenga sliding in every Tuesday for a strawberry tart and a cup of unsweetened whipped cream for her dog, Harley. 

Euijoo came in everyday as well, but not for a pastry – but to bug you. You'd kicked him out a few times, shoving a warm cinnamon twist into his mouth or an iced matcha with cheese foam into his hand – but he always floated back.

Which was odd, since he didn't have a car and it took thirty minutes to get from your apartment in SoHo to your shop in Harlem. Where he was getting the money for the taxi, or to load his Metrocard was beyond you – the son of a bitch didn't lift a finger.

Now, you're here. You're still at your shop, while Euijoo is likely sprawled out on your king-sized bed, with his outside clothes still on. You're grimacing to yourself as you smooth icing out on one of the cupcakes, your brow furrowed as you hear Wonwoo sigh.

"I miss you." And just as fast as it was said, he moved on.

"Since you're not going to sleep, how was your birthday? I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call, I've been slammed with projects. Tzuyu booked me for engagement photos, isn't that crazy?" Much like your friends missed out on your life, you missed out on theirs. Mingyu and Tzuyu opened a restaurant in the middle of Seoul, and you missed it. Mingyu and Tzuyu had their first daughter, and you missed it. Mingyu and Tzuyu got engaged, and you missed it. You wouldn't be surprised if you missed their wedding, too.

Wonwoo? He opened a photography studio. He did weddings, all sorts of parties, maternity shoots. He did boudoir shoots for a bit, before handing them over to his business partner, Saerom. She had been introduced to Wonwoo through a few contacts at your old university, and he took her on as an apprentice. She now accompanies him to many shoots and gigs, usually taking the reins if Wonwoo loses his patience or gets too overwhelmed.

You'd seen his photos displayed at a few galleries after you left for New York. Your mother went and took pictures of his exhibits, his shy smile hidden behind flutes of champagne. You congratulated him via text, only to receive a thumbs up in response and nothing more.

"Yeah, that's crazy. Listen, Woo, I'm gonna try and focus on this. I'll call you later, yeah?" You sighed, frustration evident in your voice. You watched as Wonwoo struggled not to roll his eyes as he tongued his cheek, before nodding.

"Sure thing. Get some rest."

He hung up before you could respond, and you looked at the FaceTime log. Eight missed calls from Wonwoo over the last few days, three missed calls from Tzuyu and two from Mingyu.

Your friends missed you, across the world. You were missing every precious moment of theirs.

And instead, you were here. Frosting cupcakes at almost three in the morning, while your do-nothing boyfriend enjoyed the warmth of your apartment. Frosting cupcakes, while your parents begged you to come home for a few days at the very least.

The money here was good. It always had been, and you'd built such a good connection with your clientele and you couldn't imagine abandoning it all because you were homesick.

But you missed home. You missed your mother's hearty soups, you missed your father serving you dinner instead of you serving Euijoo after a long day of doing that for strangers. You missed Tzuyu's light laughter, Mingyu's warm embraces…

Wonwoo. God, you missed Wonwoo.

You remember sending him a photo of your storefront as the sign was finalized, the baby blue calling to the eyes amongst the red brick.

Msg To: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] look at it! goyangi sweets is officially in business! (read: 1:09PM)

Msg From: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] goyangi?

Msg To: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] what the fuck are you doing awake? it's 3am in seoul [11/09] yeah, goyangi. i miss you (read: 1:10PM)

He hadn't answered after that.

Sighing, you clicked your tongue and leaned against your stainless steel counter. You grabbed a cupcake off the cooling rack, prying the warm dessert in half and smearing a bit of frosting on the inside, shoving it into your mouth. You closed your eyes as you chewed, letting your shoulders sag at the sweet treat that made all the stress worth it.

It was worth it, right? The money and the love from the locals, the feeling of physical success…it was enough. It was worth the lonely nights you yearned for 

You wiped your hands, moving to the front of the shop and dragging the metal divider down to block the view of outsiders. You weren't opening the shop today, no. You're going to go home, and kick Euijoo out of your bed and sleep.

That's all you need. Some sleep.

– SOPHOMORE YEAR: SEOUL HAWKS VS YONSEI EAGLES, SEMIFINALS.

"We have No. 08, Choi Seungcheol approaching the goal area for the freekick. Choi is the team captain for the SNU Hawks, and the only PreMed student on the team. He has also scored fifty-six percent of all game-winning goals this season, and we're hoping this kick gets them into the Championship bracket."

You were on the edge of your seat, your frame being swallowed by one of Seungcheol's jerseys. You were alone in the stands for the first time – Mingyu and Tzuyu were stuck at the concessions stand. Unfortunately, you were also the only person on this side of the field wearing an SNU jersey, and trying not to tweak out as you listened to Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin talk about your boyfriend over the PA.

"Oh, oh, looks like Choi is not taking the freekick after all?" Jimin's voice was clear, and the crowd collectively sighed as Seungcheol analyzed the players and shook his head.

You were barely able to sit down as you watched him jog over to his referee, making motions with his hands and arms when you saw Wonwoo crossing the field in a sprint. He slid next to Seungcheol, who pulled him closer into the circle and kept talking. Wonwoo's brows were furrowed as he nodded, breathing heavily before wiping his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. "It seems Choi has nominated No.17, Jeon Wonwoo, to take the freekick instead. Jeon is the second in command, dedicating two years of his college career to this team. He's scored sixteen percent of the game-winning goals this season, opting to stay in the shadows." You didn't like that.

"Alright, alright…it seems we're lining up…Eagles are looking fine this year, aren't they?" "Jeon, that's inappropriate." "What, man? You're going to look at Kim Yugyeom and say I'm wrong?" "Jungkook, they can hear you."

"Hey, shit. Here's your soda." Tzuyu slides in next to you, and you don't unglue your eyes from the field as you reach and fumble for your drink. The straw poked your hand as Mingyu slid past you, making you scowl as you swatted his leg for him to sit down.

"Wonwoo's taking the kick? I thought it was going to be Cheol." Mingyu muttered, taking a bite from his hot dog. You nodded, watching as Wonwoo shook his head while still talking to Seungcheol. His hands were moving rapidly, likely explaining why Wonwoo didn't want to make the kick. Your boyfriend only gave Wonwoo a stern look, and you could make out the words falling from his lips.

"I believe in you. Kick the fucking ball."

You watched as the Eagles made their wall, their goalie shaking his legs out. Kwon Soonyoung, you remembered – you'd met him at a frat party at Yonsei a few weeks back. Seungcheol had gone with you, making friends with the enemy (more like scoping out his competition. Sneaky bitch.) "C'mon, Woo." You mumbled to yourself, grabbing Tzuyu's hand for support as she shoved a nacho into her mouth. You were too amped up to eat, this kick was the one that would settle the score – and it was all on Wonwoo.

You knew Seungcheol wouldn't put anyone he didn't trust on this sort of line. Yeah, he had an issue with how close you and Wonwoo were, but his team was important to him – he'd built this one on his own, handpicked, the best of the best. You trusted Seungcheol knew what he was doing, and that he wouldn't set up Wonwoo for failure…

…And he didn't, as you watched Wonwoo's kick bounce off the goalpost and straight into the net – just barely missing Soonyoung's fingertips.

"THE HAWKS ARE GOING TO THE CHAMPIONSHIPS!"

You cheered happily, the only one besides Mingyu and Tzuyu – and earned the nastiest of glares from Yonsei students as you ran down the steps of the bleachers. Seungcheol was jumping with his arms around Wonwoo and another player, Wen Junhui, when you pushed past them to get to your friend.

"Wonwoo! That was fucking amazing!"

He just shook his head, aiming the water bottle into his mouth as he gestured towards Seungcheol.

"That's all Cheol's idea. Mastermind behind it all." You whipped around to see your grinning boyfriend being shaken by Mingyu, trying to pry himself from your friend's embrace as you felt the cold splash of the water cooler being poured on Wonwoo. It went down your back as well, making you squeal as you jumped out of the way. Seungcheol reached his arm out to you, and you grabbed his hand as his teammates picked a soaked Wonwoo up and onto their shoulders.

"We'll meet you at the parking lot!" Mingyu yelled as he and Tzuyu trailed after them, and Seungcheol only gave a thumbs up. It was customary that the entire team went to dinner together, usually still in their stinky and sweaty jerseys but Seungcheol had long refused to let the team be represented that way. Everyone went home to get themselves together, then he footed the bill.

"Cheol, that was great! You're going to the championships!" Your smile was hurting your cheeks as he nodded, pulling you into his chest. He was sweaty and overwhelmingly warm, but you didn't care as he plucked the fabric of your wet shirt off your back in greeting.

"You know…you could've greeted me first." "Oh, not this again! Seungcheol, Wonwoo is just my friend." "I know he is, Y/N." Seungcheol said pointedly, but you felt scrutinized under his arched brow. You felt your lip jut out into a pout, and he sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"C'mon, you can come over to mine and change." He swept your hair back over your shoulders, his fingers brushing your neck. You frowned, your hands floating to his wrists as he shook his head.

"Tell me you love me, Cheol." "I love you, honey. Come on."

It wasn't a lie. Seungcheol did love you, but it'd slightly become less of a romantic love as the months pressed on. He couldn't get over the odd feeling in his stomach when he saw Wonwoo's soft gestures towards you, the way Wonwoo served your drinks at the parties you went to, the way Wonwoo behind a camera made you smile easily – far easier than necessary for someone that was just your friend.

He hated how you didn't see it, the way Wonwoo was in love with you. He could see it, and he knew it was the truth: Wonwoo would visibly tense at the sound of your name. Seungcheol remembers when Junhui asked him his plans last week, and how Wonwoo grimaced when Seungcheol said he was taking you on a date night.

He didn't like feeling this way. He didn't like feeling like his jealousy was festering in the pit of his stomach while you saw it as nothing more than just friendly banter. Granted – Wonwoo never flirted with you, never touched you inappropriately, he never crossed the line.

But the soft compliments he gave you? The gentle swipe of your hair off your face and the adjustment of your necklaces?

The way he calmly called your name, or sweetheart from across the room…

And you listened.

It wasn't your fault. Seungcheol knew it wasn't, and he felt like a fool to keep feeling so much resentment towards Wonwoo – especially when Wonwoo also made it strictly known that everything he felt was platonic.

It just didn't feel that way.

"I love you, Cheol." "I know, honey. Now…let's get dinner?"

– FIVE YEARS AGO: INCHEON AIRPORT TO LAGUARDIA, NEW YORK.

"I'm sorry."

You were standing in the middle of Incheon Airport, your duffle bag tucked over your shoulder when Hansol dropped the bomb.

"Sorry?" You whispered, your voice shaky as the reality of his words sank in.

It'd been a few days since you packed your last box and dropped it off at your parents' house. Hansol had gone with you, warmly greeting your parents and sitting in your living room, your mother showing him baby photos. You remember feeling your heart race at how Hansol traced your face in the pictures, before glancing up at you.

The wild beating in your chest hadn't been positive, and there was a glint of knowing in Hansol's eyes. The relationship was over, it was just a matter of who pulled the plug, and when. It had been a month or so since you settled everything in New York, and a month since either of you spoke about it. You had gone to his apartment and looked to pick a fight – but the fight never happened. He pulled you into him, and you had snuggled in his bed. You kissed, you watched movies…

But it was a goodbye and you denied it. In your heart, in your mind, you wanted to deny it. It was a good thing, wasn't it? To be in New York and know that Hansol had connections there? His sister lived there. If he wanted…if he wanted, he could come with you. Transfer to a university in New York, and it would be worth it. To study in a place he once called home, to breathe in the inspiration of the city that has been the background of hundreds of films, the breeding ground of insane creativity? And if not…what about you? Were you enough to want to move in with? Did he see a future with you where things were more than just college sweethearts who stayed over at each other's apartments more than four times a week? Did he understand who you were, to the depths – the need to love, because you were overflowing with it?

Did he see a future where you were more than just attached at the hip with Wonwoo?

The truth was, he did. He saw it all with you – the apartment, the marriage, hell, even a kid or two. He saw all of it, a ring and a career alongside you and to see all your hopes and aspirations grow into something tangible. He saw it.

You didn't.

"I know it's shitty of m-me to do this, especially n-now." He held back his tears, but his voice shook with bitten back sobs anyway. "But I can't. I c-can't do long distance."

Somehow, he knew you knew that wasn't the real reason. He knew, from the way the back of your eyes filled with hurt and betrayal, the grip on your duffle making the strap burrow into your hand. The way you bounced on your toes, once, twice – before nodding. A singular tear rolled down your face.

"It's okay. I understand." Your voice had been surprisingly steady as he hesitated, before reaching his arms out. You stepped into them, and somehow felt the weight off your shoulders as he hugged you tightly. "I'll miss you, Sol." "I miss you already, babe. Please call me when you land, okay? I'll be up, I swear."

You had called him when you landed. He'd arranged to have a car pick you up and take you to your new apartment. He finally cried on the phone, and you sobbed with him as you made your bed and settled in.

After six hours of reminiscing and crying on the phone, you hung up for what you thought would be the last time. He wished you good luck, and to call him whenever you wanted. And God, you wanted to.

But just like Wonwoo, you left it alone. Six months, not a single word.

– PRESENT: LAGUARDIA AIRPORT TO JEON WONWOO, HOME.

You looked into the empty space you used to call your second home. Gone were the calming periwinkle walls, the gold-detailed pastry cases. Gone were your cherry wood bar stools, the wicker recliners in the corner, the play areas for children. 

Your shop was gone, and you held the keys in your hand one last time.

"End of an era, huh? Where are you going to go now?" Mr. Cortéz was next to you, holding his granddaughter on his hip as you sighed.

"I'm not sure. I'm going to miss Harlem, but I know that…this isn't home." You said sheepishly, running a hand through your hair. He nodded, patting your shoulder with a sympathetic smile.

"We're going to miss you here, mija. You will always have a place in Harlem with us." To say you wanted to cry was an understatement, but you just blinked the tears back as you allowed him and his granddaughter to envelope you into an embrace. "I left my cupcake recipe with your wife, so you can always make them for Elisa. I'm going to miss you."

"Be safe, okay? Don't give up on your dreams." He patted your back softly, and you held back a sniffle as your leasing agent gave you a soft smile. Goodbyes were never something you were good at, but you couldn't say anything more as you handed your keys back to the leasing agent and turned to your packed car. You grimaced at the sight of Euijoo's neck pillow still in your passenger seat, and you reached in through the window to grab it and shoved it in the trash.

You sighed, glancing up at your empty shop once more before slipping into the driver's seat, gripping the glittery wheel cover. You blinked once, twice, before shoving your key in the ignition and pulling out of your parking spot. 

You truly had no idea if this was the right decision. In your mind, you weren't sure.

But your heart?

You broke up with Euijoo a few months ago, and kicked him out of your apartment. You slowly started selling everything in the apartment, only packing your essentials and finding a wholesale thrift to take all your furniture from the pastry shop. You closed the shop officially a week ago, and did a mass bake sale to finish all your products. 

You went back and forth to Seoul without telling anyone, finding a cozy apartment in Gangnam and meeting with a leasing agent there to open a shop. Your parents long stopped asking you to come home, but you couldn't help and feel giddy as you walked around the city – gorging yourself on hot street food and buying furniture for your new apartment without interference.

Now? You just had to board your plane. You'd sold your car to Euijoo's brother, Hyunjin, and he was waiting at the airport to take it once you left. You had zero plans of telling anyone anything, and you'd be landing in Seoul the day before your birthday. You could catch up on any sleep, and then visit Mingyu and Tzuyu's restaurant. Maybe get dinner there, maybe catch up with the couple…

Maybe surprise Wonwoo.

Yeah, that sounds like the plan.

"Nice change of scenery, finally took a vacation?" Wonwoo's voice is once more staticky through FaceTime, and you've got him propped up in your new bathroom. You hadn't said anything about leaving New York yet, but you shrugged as you carefully lined your lips.

"Mhm, could say that. Finally get to do shit without Euijoo weighing me down. What are your plans tonight? Going to Gyu's?" You ask nonchalantly, but you can feel your hands trembling as you put down your lipliner. If Wonwoo notices, he doesn't say anything.

"Actually, I'm going to swing by the restaurant in a bit. We always call you for your birthday, you know, so it's funny you called me first." He nods lightly, but you know Wonwoo too well to think he's not even slightly suspicious. "Wanted to beat you to it, I guess. I feel alone here a bit, the resort is super nice but I'm so…ugh, I don't know. I might go out for a beer, see what kind of trouble I can get myself into." You wiggle your brows in the camera, and Wonwoo snorts. He swings his keys in front of him, shaking his head as he speaks.

"Not too much trouble, I hope. Have you talked to your parents yet? I know your mom misses you, you've been even more MIA since you and Euijoo broke up. I commend it, don't get me wrong, but still. Where the hell have you been?" "Healing." You shrug, smushing your cheek with the palm of your hand. Wonwoo doesn't look like he believes you, but you only give him a soft smile. He tries to bite his back, tonguing his cheek as he huffs. 

"You look happier. I like that." "I feel happier, Woo." It's not a lie. You feel so much lighter being back in Seoul, knowing that your family and friends are no more than a train ride away.

You pretend to check your watch, sucking your teeth.

"Shit, I'm going to miss my dinner reservation. Will you still call me when you get to the restaurant? I miss you guys." You pout, tucking your hair behind your ears as Wonwoo nods.

"Yeah, no worries. Be safe, and don't get too tipsy. I can't hold your hair when you throw up from all the way over here, you know." He scolds, making you giggle.

"Got it. I'll see you, yeah?" You nod, and he does the same.

"See you, sweetheart." The call goes dead as your heart registers the pet name, but you immediately rustle out of the bathroom to catch a taxi. You're wearing a black crew neck over a nice pair of jeans, paired with your favorite dirty Chucks in forest green. You grab your winter coat off the hook by the door, tugging it on and shoving your phone in your pocket. Checking the coat pockets for your wallet and keys, you find both in the left pocket and practically slam out of your apartment.

Not having been to Mingyu and Tzuyu's restaurant definitely proved navigating there to be difficult. You got out a block away from the actual spot, tugging a face mask over your face and pulling the hood of your coat over your hair. You take a deep breath, taking a step forward when you see a tall man step out of a taxi, a black coat covering broad shoulders. Thick frames sit on his nose, the lower half of his face covered by a black mask. You squint your eyes to see closer as he hands the driver a wad of cash, and the crinkle of his nose proves it's exactly who you're looking for.

Jeon Wonwoo.

You stay rooted in your spot as he walks coolly into the restaurant, holding the door open for a woman and her daughter to slip out. The daughter's eyes widen as he moves past them, her cheeks flushing as her mother rushes her off the sidewalk. What a funny thing, to see someone else experience the same things you do.

Over the year that you decided to leave New York, you spoke to Hansol and Seungcheol a lot – even after promising 'this is the last call,' you called them again and again. As it turns out, he too felt that Wonwoo was a bigger part of your life than he could ever be, but it didn't hit him until he found out Wonwoo had missed every single AV Club meeting in the two weeks following him finding out that the two of you were dating. Wonwoo didn't speak to Hansol directly for over a month, until Hansol confronted him and got the answers he was looking for.

Wonwoo had long been in love with you, and had gone over to your apartment initially to, yes, tell you he'd broken up with Jaehee; but he also went over there to confess to you. He'd brought over a bouquet of pink camellias, but left them on the porch in case he caught you at a bad time – and Hansol later found out he threw them away on his way out of your apartment complex.

At first, Hansol had nothing to say on the matter. You were his girlfriend — but he couldn’t lie to himself, the guilt of knowing Wonwoo had been in love with you for so long was starting to eat away at him. With a reluctant heart, he ended things; only for Wonwoo’s dumbass to not make a move and let you slip away to New York.

You'd also heard from Seungcheol and Hansol that he hadn't kept a girlfriend around for too long since – nothing to write home about. He didn't introduce any of them to anyone, just soft launched here and there on social media but mostly kept the "situationships" to himself. 

The only hope you had in your belly was that your plan would go, well, according to plan. You'd ordered a bouquet of flowers, pink camellias, to be delivered to Wonwoo at the restaurant after you arrived. After that…okay you didn't plan anything after that, but spontaneity is cool, right?

You wipe your palms on your coat, taking a deep breath as you walk towards the door. Yanking it open, you hear the doorbell alert the people inside – only to see a few people scattered around. Mingyu is wiping a glass down behind the bar and Tzuyu is sitting on a barstool next to Wonwoo, her left hand sitting atop her belly.

With a huge rock on her ring finger. "Welcome to Hana's! Have a seat anywhere, we'll be right with you!" Her voice is just as warm as ever, and you find yourself forcing your feet to move, ducking your head as you head towards the back of the restaurant. You see Mingyu lean over to grab a bottle off the wall, and you slide into one of the booths where you're out of sight but they're not.

You can hear them start to talk about you, Mingyu pouring Wonwoo a beer and sliding it across the bar.

"Has Y/N spoken to either of you?" Tzuyu asks, and Wonwoo clicks his tongue.

"Yeah, she called me earlier. It was a little odd, considering we always call her. But it's her birthday, I'm not going to badger her for answers. Plus, she's on vacation for once. Can't complain." He shrugs, and Mingyu laughs softly.

"Vacation? Where? Did she say?" "I didn't ask." Wonwoo replies, and Tzuyu snorts. "You'd be a horrible spy, Jeon. Here, I'm going to call her. She's gotten better at answering."  You watch Tzuyu grab her phone off the table, and quickly lower your ringer as far as it will go. She faces the phone towards all of them, and Wonwoo looks unamused as you feel your phone start vibrating in your hand. 

You deny the call, quickly texting her that you're driving to dinner and will call her when you get to the restaurant. A lie, and you can see her frown sadly next to Wonwoo. She puts her phone down, sliding off the bar stool – likely on her way to you.

"Gonna take this order, I'll be right back." She grabs the notepad off the bar, but the ringing of the doorbell grabs her attention. A delivery man with a huge bouquet of flowers slips in, holding the baby blue gift card in his hand.

"For Jeon Wonwoo? Is there a Jeon Wonwoo here?" Wonwoo's eyes go wide, before he clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. That's me, thank you. Does it say who they're from?" The delivery man hands him the card, bidding everyone a good night.

"Well?" Mingyu leans over as Wonwoo puts the flowers down on the bar and flips the card open. His eyes dart back and forth as he reads it, before handing it to Mingyu, who reads it out loud while Wonwoo thumbs the petals.

To Wonwoo,

Thank you for always being someone I can count on, even when I'm halfway across the world. Thank you for looking out for me, and for loving me more than you let on.

Always yours, Y/N.

P.S. Don't forget to call me back!

"Huh." Mingyu clicks his tongue, and Tzuyu grabs the card and scans it. She sighs, holding it to her chest.

"Camellias…" Wonwoo pouts, before his eyes narrow. "They're her favorite. It's like she's trying to tell me something." "Okay, mind reader. What could she possibly have to say that isn't already in the card?" Tzuyu waves it around, and you take it as your chance to slide out of the booth, hands in your pockets. You walk towards them quietly as Mingyu and Tzuyu begin to theorize, and neither of them look your way as you slide into the barstool diagonal to Wonwoo's.

"She probably wants to know what a girl's gotta do to get some service around here." You mumble, and Tzuyu flushes, about to apologize when you carefully slip your mask off.

"But I guess you can treat me, since it is my birthday." You shrug, Mingyu's eyes widening before he covers his face and sinks to the ground behind the bar. Tzuyu scoffs out a laugh, her eyes filling with tears as she pulls your hood off your head, her hands smoothing your hair down gently.

"You're home." She whispers, her belly getting in the way as she pulls you into her. You feel your eyes burn with tears as she buries her face in your hair, your hand moving to pat her back. "I am, I missed you guys." You murmur, and Mingyu hops over the bar to also crush you in his embrace. You can barely see out of your teary eyes, but you can see Wonwoo's cheeks flushed almost as pink as the flowers, the shock in his demeanor evident but he just clears his throat and looks away.

"How long are you here for? A week? A month? Please say a month, you have to meet our kids." Mingyu begs into your hair, and you can barely conjure words as Wonwoo stays silent. "Shit, I'll even buy you a new ticket back to New York if you stay for two months." You don't respond, waiting for the couple to pull away. You wiggle lightly, making them both move back as you wipe your eyes. "I'm here for good. I have a new place in Gangnam, and I'm opening a shop a few blocks from here. I'm…I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you guys." You gesture towards Wonwoo as well, who only tongues his cheek before running the tips of his fingers around the rim of his beer. He nods, "Yeah. Welcome home, sweetheart." "You're not even going to hug me? Some friend you are." You try to joke, and Wonwoo scoffs,before reluctantly sliding off his stool. Tzuyu says something about getting you dinner, skirting out of the way. It seems Mingyu also gets the hint, moving away with the promise of a nice beer.

You're overwhelmed by the same patchouli scent on Wonwoo’s clothes, sweetened with notes of peach as he wraps his arms around your waist. Your own wrap around his shoulders, and you can feel your heart thundering in your chest as he breathes you in softly. He nestles his head next to yours, and his breath is warm against your ear as he speaks.

"I've missed you so much, Y/N." He mumbles, and you feel his arms tighten slightly, as if you're going to slip away. "We need to have a serious conversation, though, because I am mad at you."

You scoff slightly, trying to hide your tears as you bury your face in his neck. He rubs your back gently, before pulling away and wiping your eyes carefully. "Later." You only nod, watching Tzuyu carefully walk over with a bowl of hot tofu stew, and Mingyu slides a pint glass across the bar for you.

You spend the next three hours consoling an emotional Tzuyu, and telling Mingyu all about the delicious dishes you tried in New York. He jests that the restaurant would love a pastry chef if you're willing to share your recipes, and you only snort and turn him down softly. You tell them all about Euijoo, only earning scoffs and huffs from the couple as Wonwoo nurses his beer silently. 

You tell them about your shop in Harlem, and how it was actually a call with Wonwoo last year that made you realize that you were unhappy – which made his cheeks flush, but he remained quiet, only nodding along. Tzuyu squeezes his shoulder, and he just nibbles on his lip as you keep talking about all the regulars you had. You tell them about your SoHo apartment and how you often visited the Seaglass Carousel if you were feeling stressed. You promised to take them there someday, if they ever wanted to see what your life was like when you were gone.

They fill you in about their own lives – planning their wedding, having their second daughter in a few weeks. They talk about their oldest, Eunha, and how she's growing up to be just like Mingyu. You hold back tears as they eagerly talk about their budding family and their beautiful relationship, often sharing looks full of adoration and admiration for one another as they spoke. You listen carefully, and Tzuyu even asks if, since you're back, you'd like to be a bridesmaid.

You agree, when Mingyu finally brings out a thick slice of his infamous chocolate cake – one that actually got you into baking but you'd never admit it. At least, not to him.

"Happy Birthday, Y/N! We're so glad you're home, seriously. It's been so dull without you." Tzuyu cheers, allowing Mingyu to light the pink candle in the middle of the slice. You smile softly, tucking your hair behind your ears as they sing to you softly – Wonwoo mouthing along from his stool.

"Make a wish." Mingyu holds it up to you, and you can't help but realize that he's a father now. Tzuyu is a mother, and they have their whole lives figured out. They're so gentle, loving, passionate…and you're still trying to figure yourself out.

Ah, but comparison is the thief of joy.

You close your eyes, sighing before conjuring your wish in your mind. 

You don't notice when Wonwoo takes a quick photo, the flash hidden by Tzuyu's shoulder.

You blow out the candle quietly, opening your eyes to see the couple clapping softly. Tapping the plate, you clear your throat.

"Can I get this in a box? I have some things I need to sort out before the night ends."

Mingyu and Tzuyu share a look, before she glances over her shoulder. You nod as she looks back at you, and she smiles.

"Well, we'll see you more often, right? You have to meet Eunha, and the baby." 

"Absolutely." And you mean it. You mean it as Mingyu boxes up your slice of cake, sealing it into a brown paper bag for you. You inch closer and closer to Wonwoo as the goodbyes become extensive, before splaying your hand across his back. He glances over his shoulder, a jump in his brows as if to say, ready to go?

You bid Mingyu and Tzuyu a good night, and you promise them you'll even try to come by in the morning for Mingyu's mother's oxtail soup. Mingyu says he can't promise there will be any up by the time you come by, but you make Tzuyu promise to save you a bowl. She does.

"When did you sell the shop?" Wonwoo asks as the two of you step out into the street, the cold air making his breath visible as he speaks. "And why didn't you tell me?" You look at the flowers in his arms, how he holds them like a baby.

"I was worried you'd be upset that I gave up." You murmur as the two of you begin to walk seemingly with no direction, earning a sigh from Wonwoo.

“I’m upset that you didn’t even think to tell me anything. I’m supposed to be your friend. One of your best friends, if I’m not mistaken. You move across the world and suddenly that doesn’t matter anymore?”

“Wonwoo, it’s not like that. I just…I should know what I want out of life. I should know where my heart calls home, but it’s only been a person. I’m not sure if the place matters.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair as Wonwoo flags down a taxi.

“Your place or mine?” He mutters, opening the door for you to slide in.

“Yours.” You mumble back, giving the driver a quick smile as Wonwoo shuts the door. He rattles off his address — and it’s the same building as yours.

“…I live there, too.” You whisper, and he clicks his tongue.

“Good to know.” He shrugs, before reaching over and tugging your seat belt on. He clicks in place, choosing to stay silent as the taxi weaves through the busy roads. You want to say something, and you attempt to several times — but he just shakes his head, pressing a finger to his lips as if to say wait.

And wait, you did.

You let him pay the taxi driver and help you out of the taxi. You let him lead you into the lobby, the security guard giving the both of you a curt nod as you duck into the elevator.

Wonwoo only lives a few doors down from you.

“Interesting.” You murmur to yourself. It’s like I’ll always find my way back to you.

He unlocked his door, holding it open for you to slip through. You did, silently toeing your shoes off in his foyer before stepping into his living room. Shrugging your coat off, you watch him flick the lights on.

Everything is so him. From stacked consoles on the side of his television, to a bookcase full of acoustic guitar records and a few thick books. A few of his cameras are strewn on his kitchen table, popped open and film exposed. His record player sits in front of his window, the blinds and curtains pushed open and the window slightly ajar to circulate the air. There is a mug on his coffee table, half full of what you assume to be green tea.

It smells like patchouli, peaches, and home.

His hand takes the bag from you, and he walks past you to place the flowers and the cake on his kitchen counter. He closes his eyes as he tugs his coat off, and you avert your eyes from his form-fitting shirt — opting to turn around and hang your coat on the rack by the door.

“Are you actually here for good? Or was that just something you said to appease Mingyu and Tzuyu?” He mutters, thumbing at the petals of the flowers once more. You sigh, crossing your arms as you sidle up next to him. Your hip bumps his as you lean on the counter, and his eyes avoid yours as you look up at him.

His shoulders are tense.

“I’m here for good, Wonwoo. I missed it here, I missed Mingyu and Tzuyu and I missed my parents.”

“What about me? Did you miss me?” 

His voice is so soft you almost can’t hear it, and you purposely bump your hip to his to garner his attention.

“Of course I missed you.” You whisper, a smile twitching at your lips as he nibbles on his lip.

“Then why didn’t you visit? Why did it take you six months to call me when you first moved? Why…Why did you date Euijoo?”

You feel your chest ache at his questions, the furrow in his brows making you push off the counter, straightening. Sighing, you rest your head on his bicep, the muscle tensing beneath your cheek.

“Sometimes we do things to fill a void, you know? Sometimes we hide from the things we know could be good for us, and look for something we think could be enough, so we won’t ruin or sully what we have already.” You shrug, and he looks down at you again.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I wish I would’ve realized how you felt about me before I left. I mean, I would’ve still gone but I would’ve visited more. I would’ve come back often, tried to make it work. I’m sorry.”

You peer up at him through your lashes, and he just shakes his head.

“My feelings here don’t matter, I’m talking about you.”

“You are a huge part of me, of my life.” You remind him, your hand ghosting over the small of his back as he huffs.

“So you abandoned your life in New York, your dream, for me?” Wonwoo sounds almost offended, and you scoff.

“I abandoned my life in New York because I missed home. I missed my parents, my friends. I miss talking to my friends when we’re all staying up late, not just when I am and I have to go to bed when the gab gets good. I…I missed walking around in the middle of the night with you, and getting heartburn from eating spicy noodles at two in the morning. Can’t I miss home, Wonwoo?”

He clicks his tongue, tapping his fingers on the counter. “I guess you can. But you said home for you is not a place, but a person.” 

“I did say that.”

He doesn’t say anything, picking at his nails silently before sighing.

“Did Hansol tell you about the flowers?” He murmurs, and you nod.

“You could’ve talked to me, especially between boyfriends. You had lots of chances, Seungcheol literally aired you out.” You say pointedly, and he rolls his eyes.

“You didn’t believe him, and I wasn’t going to ruin our friendship because I was feeling something you weren't.”

“And how do you know that I wasn’t?” You raise a brow, and he scoffs. He shoves his hands in his pockets, moving out of the kitchen to go sit on his couch. He leans his head against the wall, closing his eyes as you make your way over and perch on the edge of his mahogany coffee table.

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday dinner that one year. I thought if I missed one, it’d be easier to start getting used to not seeing you. I was fully committed to getting over you, to moving on, even if I wasn’t happy with…fuck, I forgot her name.”

“Jaehee.”

“With Jaehee.” He ran his hand over his face, and you sigh.

“That was ages ago, Wonwoo. We move on.” You pat his knee, and he lifts his head to face you. His cheeks are slightly flushed as he takes a breath.

“I don’t want to move on, that’s the problem. You think I haven’t tried? Do you know how many relationships I’ve been in since you’ve left?”

“Mmh, I don’t. Do tell.” You nod, inching slightly closer, resting your elbows on your knees and clasping your hands together. He doesn’t look amused, running an exasperated hand through his hair and closing his eyes.

“I look for you everywhere, and I’ve never even had you. I can’t help but compare every single woman I’ve ever been with to you, Y/N. It’s driving me fucking insane, being in love with you.”

He’s hiding his face in his hands, and you feel your chest grow hot as you hum in response. You shift slightly, your knees bumping his and making him sigh.

“I mean, for years it's been like we're in this odd mesh of limerence and denial. You do something that makes me think, oh, maybe she's into me? You'd seek me out for comfort, for help, for whatever, and I was there. I am there, like an idiot, hoping you'll just get it. Then you date people who are in proximity to me – my best friend, my team captain, the secretary of my AV club. Then you leave. You left, Y/N." 

"I know." You can't recognize the thickness in the back of your throat, the way you swallow around it as he fiddles with one of his rings. "You didn't even come say goodbye, Wonwoo. Hansol ripped my heart out and handed it to me, because of you, and you weren't even there." "I didn't want to see you cry." He mumbles, and you only shake your head.

"You've seen me cry, you've seen me laugh. You've been the reason behind the tears and the laughter. You've seen me in all these weird spots in my life, you watched me date all these men. You were most of the reason as to why these men broke up with me. Yet, you never once thought that I was looking for you?" "Why would I ever give myself that much importance?" He scoffs, and you shrug. "Maybe because I give you that much importance, Wonwoo."

He sighs shakily, leaning back on the couch cushions and swallowing hard. "Did you know I got a few collections displayed in a museum after you left? Your parents went, did they send you photos?"

"Some. I liked the one of Tzuyu and Mingyu in the flower fields." He got up, skirting around your knees and walking up to the bookcase next to his TV. He scours the leather bound books, before a soft aha! falls from his lips, pulling out a green one. He flips it, and you realize it's a photo album.

He hands it to you, sitting back down on the couch. You open it tentatively, your fingers trembling as the photos come into view. They have that digital camera feel to them, a bit grainy and dated. The first photo was old, you could tell just from the image: it was you and Mingyu, sitting around a bonfire at a waterfall you would hang out at during the warmer months, one that went into a lake lined with boulders. You were dating here, and your nose had melted marshmallow swiped across it while Mingyu grinned in the corner of the photo.

"This is an old photo, Wonwoo." "They're all old, you haven't been around." He retorts, before flipping the page.

Another photo of you smiling as you laid out on the flat boulder by the edge of the lake, another of you on the handlebars of Mingyu's bike – you remember that one, it was Mingyu's seventeenth birthday. Another of you with Tzuyu solving a puzzle during one of Mingyu's visits, you and Hansol sharing a cup of lemonade during a snack run after one of Wonwoo's soccer games, you and Seungcheol swinging on a hammock in the park – where you often bumped into Wonwoo taking photos of birds, flowers, life.

There was photo after photo of you, in every moment of your life. There was a photo of the pink camellias he'd gotten for you, there was a photo of his student apartment packed up but one of your cardigans, bright red, stark against the cardboard boxes. This album, full of memories of you through his eyes – without a singular glimpse of Wonwoo, until the last photo.

It wasn't like the other photos – this was high definition, and you remember this photo being taken. You were wearing a pink t-shirt that had belonged to Wonwoo, and a necklace that Wonwoo had given to you for one of your birthdays. You were sitting on his couch, surrounded by Mingyu and Tzuyu. You had a bag of honey mustard pretzels that Wonwoo bought you in your lap, your smile shy and your fingers holding a napkin.

It was the day you finally told them you'd be leaving, just moments before.

And you remember how quietly he'd put his camera away after that, and your friends had settled uneasily around you. Wonwoo sat on his coffee table, eyes worried but masked with a soft smile – just like you were, now.

The album was empty after that, with only two or three pages left to complete it.

"This was an exhibit I arranged for the museum, but I never submitted it. I called it Hanging By A Moment, because that's what…" He takes a deep breath. "That's what this feels like. I feel like I'm just waiting for the moment to end, and I'm not sure in which direction I would prefer it to happen. Sometimes I would stay awake and wonder why I didn't go visit you, but I knew exactly why." You set the photo album on your lap, giving him a gentle look.

"You didn't want to see something that would break your heart." "I didn't want to see you happy with someone else, somewhere else." His voice is thick, and you move to speak but he shakes his head. 

"I didn't want to go somewhere and see you living so well without me, when I'm in shambles without you. I couldn't sleep most nights the first year that you were gone. I found myself still walking towards your apartment with Hansol. Hell, I've even hung out with Seungcheol, routinely, just to feel the influence of you. The essence of what you are, imprinted in the people you've graced with your presence." He's looking down at his hands, a singular tear rolling down his cheek. You feel like you can't breathe around the lump in your throat, as he glances up.

"I don't think I can handle this anymore. I need you to say nothing is ever going to happen between us, that the moment is over. I need you to end this, because if you don't, I never will."

You can't speak, but it doesn't matter – because he keeps going.

"I'd be perfectly content having you within arm's reach for the rest of my life, as long as you're happy. You could be across the world, hell, across the fucking universe and I'd never stop missing you, or yearning for you, or loving you. Befriending you all those years ago has got to be one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made, because I can't imagine a life without you. But loving you, being in love with you? Y/N, that has got to be the biggest grace I've ever been given by whatever God is out there. Nothing has ever been easier than loving you has been, but it is the most painful thing I've ever experienced. So, please. End this, I'm begging you." Your throat hurts from holding back your tears, a soft sob escaping your lips as you turn away. You let the tears run down your cheeks, using your hand to muffle your cries as he just lets his tears drip onto his jeans. You can see, through blurry eyes, the way he wants to reach for you, the way his hands clenched into fists before he shoves them under his thighs. 

It's silent for a moment, aside from shaky breathing and a few sniffles from Wonwoo. You wipe your eyes carefully, trembling hands gripping the edges of the album as you slide it onto the coffee table next to you. He grabs it, using it as an excuse to stand up and move around – Wonwoo always needed to do that after talking. Like he felt the need to exert all his feelings physically.

You also stand, his rug soft under your socked feet as he slides the album back in place. He doesn't turn back around, his hand lingering on the spine of the album as you round the coffee table. You're right behind him, seeing the buried tension in his back and shoulders as he feels your presence. You clear your throat as best as you can.

"I don't want the moment to end." He doesn't move, and you find yourself stepping in front of him, between the bookcase and his chest. He doesn't look at you, but allows your hands to find home on his chest. You smooth his shirt cautiously, before patting him gently.

He glances down.

"You're my home, Wonwoo." You say softly, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. Your hand moves to his jaw, your thumb gently tracing circles into his cheek. He has a bit of stubble, despite the cool scent of his aftershave. You can't help but let the sacred words slip from your lips as his eyes bore into yours.

"I love you." He looks away, a shaky sob from his lips making your heart ache as you rest your head on his chest. He instinctively wraps his arms around you, so used to your physical affection in years past that it's just muscle memory at this point – despite his own reserved affections. You're surrounded by his scent, his warmth, him.

"I know it won't be easy. I've been gone for five years, and I've missed so much of your life. I know my apologies count for near nothing at this point, but you can't sincerely believe that I haven't yearned for you every step of my journey away." You're slightly muffled, feeling the metal of his necklace under his shirt as he holds you closer, tighter. He doesn't reply, so you keep going.

"I love you, Wonwoo. I'm sorry I didn't allow myself to feel it before, and I'm sorry that I've made you wait so long. I'll wait, as long as you need me to. As long as you want me to wait, even if I die waiting–" "I'd wait an eternity for you." He murmurs into your hair, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"You shouldn't say that, Wonwoo." "But I did, and I will. I'd die waiting for you, if that's what it takes."

You sigh, pressing your forehead to his chest. "Are you still mad at me?" For the first time in years, you hear him laugh softly. Your arms tighten around his waist reflexively, a pout on your lips as you peer up at him. "I missed your laugh." He huffs, cheeks tinging pink as he avoids your gaze, carding his fingers through your hair. "I'm still mad at you. I bet you paid a shit load of money for a cab from the airport, didn't you? You could've just told me to come pick you up. I would've done it." "I wanted to surprise you." "Well…what about your apartment? I didn't even get to recommend this place, you probably went through some real estate guy–" "You're just grappling at things to be mad about, aren't you?" "No. I am mad." He grumbles, his lip jutted out in a pout as you smile up at him.

"You sure? Can't I change your mind, my good sir?" You wiggle your brows, and he scoffs, but you see the twitch of a smile on the corner of his lips. He tongues his cheek as your hands move to his face, making him look down at you. "I'm sorry, Wonwoo." He rolls his eyes, your hands squishing his cheeks together. "Prove it." You quirk a brow, "Prove…what?" "That you love me. Prove it." He shrugs, moving your hands off his face and letting them go at your sides. You scoff, gesturing to the air.

"I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that enough?" You cross your arms, a defiant look crossing your features as he sighs. His fingers are warm as they tuck a stray curl behind your ear, your skin prickling as he thumbs at your earlobe.  "Of course it's enough." He mumbles, "You'll always be enough. More, even. More than enough for me."

You think he mumbles I love you.

Your face grows hot as he scans it, eyes heavy with purpose and love. For the first time, you allow yourself to realize how nervous Wonwoo makes you – your heart racing in your chest as you lean closer to him. He doesn't back away, his hand now gently holding your jaw. His thumb rests on the corner of your lip, the weight so comforting. "Kiss me." You do just that, your lips crashing into his as he steadies your body. Your hands fist his shirt as he kisses you slowly, walking you back into the bookshelf. Your back hits it gently, his hands cupping your face softly as he pulls away. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed as your fingers circled his wrists. "I missed you so much, sweetheart." "I missed you too, Wonwoo."

He struggles to bite back his smile, your lips pressing a chaste kiss to his before peppering them all over his face. "You can't stay mad at me forever, you know." You speak through kisses, his nose scrunching as you press your lips to it.

"I can certainly try. You know I can hold a mean grudge." "Mingyu ate your leftovers once, Wonwoo. He literally cooked for you everyday of college, you need to let it go." "You're taking his side? Some friend you are." He scoffs, his hands pushing your hair off your shoulders. You wrap your arms around his waist, your chin in the center of his chest as you pout up at him.

"I flew all this way, I confessed my love…and I'm your friend?" He tongues his cheek, swallowing his laughter as he shakes his head. "Well, no. A friend wouldn't leave me for five years and then suddenly show back up–" "Wonwoo." " –And expect me to just forgive her. You could at least try and get in my good graces." You huff, "So you hate me." "No, no. I'm very much in love with you, actually. However, though love is merciful…I am not as much. You said you'd wait." "Wonwoo–" "Ah, ah. You said you'd wait. So you will." He shrugs, running his hand through your hair. He twirls a piece around his finger, "I know that you know how I feel about you, from other people's minds and mouths. I think it's best if I get to show you, truthfully and openly. Don't you?" You say nothing just yet, choosing to stare up at him with a hint of worry in your eyes. He glances down, the hand in your hair coming to gently hold your jaw. "What if you realize you don't want me?" "Oh, sweetheart. I'd be a fool not to want you. Let the sky fall the day I make that stupid decision."

You sigh, moving to rest your cheek on his chest. He hums, running his fingertips across your scalp. 

"It's not everyday you find a muse in someone the moment you meet them. Don't worry about me ever not wanting you, me ever not needing you." You don't reply, feeling your nose burn as your eyes fill with tears. He pats the back of your head, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Come, I need to take your picture. You need to fill the last few pages of that album."

And, you comply. You let him wipe your tears, pressing kisses to your eyelids as he sits you at his kitchen counter. He pulls out a gold candle from his kitchen drawer, sticking it in the cake slice from the restaurant and lighting it carefully. He pushes your hair back, and pulls the pendant of your necklace out to rest in the middle of your chest.

"Smile, sweetheart." He murmurs behind the camera, and you do. You smile, glossed lips swollen from the kisses, eyes full of stars as you stare at Wonwoo behind the flash. "Make a wish, quickly." You lean forward, closing your eyes when you see another flash behind your lids. Smiling to yourself, you blow the candle out, quickly taking it out of the cake slice. He offers a fork, and you lean on your elbows as he takes out a few bottles of soju.

"What'd you wish for?" He asks, unscrewing one of the lids off the bottles. You smirk around a bite of cake, shaking your head as he turns away to rummage for shot glasses.

"I'm not telling you, it won't come true." He scoffs, pulling out a set of shot glasses you'd given him during college. They have Snoopy and Woodstock doodled on the sides – he was always Woodstock, you were Snoopy.

"Oh, come on. Tell me, I'll make it come true." "What are you, a magician? Tell me what else I missed while I was gone." He rolls his eyes, running his tongue over his lower lip as he slides the Snoopy glass over, filled to the brim with fresh soju. You take it carefully, and he raises a brow.

"Tell me your wish, Y/N." You huff, before reaching over to cheers your glass with his. You both knock back the liquor, and you scrunch your nose as you slide it back over to him. He fills it again, and you shift in your chair.

"If I tell you, you'll have to do it." "Stop being so ominous, I hate it when you do that."

He slides the glass back over, only half full as he sidles up next to you. Your hand instinctively wraps around his bicep, and you rest your cheek on his shoulder.

"Promise me you'll make it come true, Wonwoo." "I promise. It's your birthday, sweetheart. I'd bring down the stars if you asked."

– SIX WEEKS LATER: GOYANGI'S HOME, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA.

Wonwoo had done exactly as you asked on your birthday – he kept his word, and tried his best to make your birthday wishes come true. Granted, you underestimated him: he would get both done within the six weeks it took to get your shop open.

After the two of you finished off the thick slice of chocolate cake, Wonwoo asked you to spend the night. You did, and a part of you held back tears as he held you in his arms – mumbling in his sleep. Mumbling about how he loved you, how long he'd waited…

How scared he was you'd slip away, like sand in an hourglass timer.

You'd spent the last month and a half glued at the hip. He took you to visit your parents early in the mornings, who bawled uncontrollably and demanded you'd stay all day. Wonwoo hadn't minded, and he stayed with you for dinner several times – and took many odd photos. He never showed you any of them, but he couldn't let you out of his sight, either.

He accompanied you to all your furniture shopping for the shop, he helped choose the paint, he even went as far as taking your website photos. Which, of course, included photos of you – in the kitchen, in your uniform, making a mess of flour and powdered sugar.

Powdered sugar that he kissed off your lips.

Because neither of you could go more than an hour without seeing each other, you practically moved into his apartment. You were spending almost every night there despite your own bed calling your name like a child does its mother. Wonwoo hadn't been kidding about making you wait, either. He let you kiss him, he told you he loved you, yes – but the dates were casual outings. Dinner, picnics, movies. You had a few game nights, and even went over to Hana's for drinks. You'd decided you were each other's plus ones for Mingyu and Tzuyu's wedding, and submitted such information on your RSVP placards.

You spent time together in copious amounts, something you couldn't ever find a fill of. You made him pastry after pastry, coffee cup after coffee cup, back massage after back massage to ease the tension in his shoulders. He gave you a silver necklace, a small letter W hanging from the center. 

You wore it with pride. He didn't ask you to be his girlfriend, and he didn't let you ask any questions about it, either.

Instead, he made your birthday wishes come true – he asked the Museum of Arts if they still needed an exhibit for the season. When they said yes, he submitted his Hanging by a Moment gallery – with a few new additions. You'd loved it, and had proudly gone to the museum at least twice a week to see it.

Now?

You're both standing in your unopened shop, showing your parents everything. The walls are a muted terracotta with a few tangerine accents, to match the feel of the digital photos of your life through Wonwoo's eyes. You asked him to make copies of the photos for you as well, framing them in thick, gold frames.

All but one, that sat in the middle of them all on the wall. "And this is the final installment." He spoke to your parents softly, before gesturing to a photo split in the middle. One half was you, dressed in all black with the silver necklace he'd given you three weeks ago, and holding Wonwoo's digital camera up to your face. Your smile was peeking out from behind your hand, directed right at him.

And the other half was him. The only photo of him in the entire exhibit – of him holding his digital camera vertically against his face, slightly messy hair and a beige t-shirt that was two sizes too big for him but you loved anyway. You'd taken this photo at a street food stand, and he remembers how softly you kissed his cheek right after.

You stood next to him with a soft smile on your face as your father perused the photos, his eyes watery as he looked at the ones of you in college. Your smile, so young and carefree. Your eyes, full of the same shimmer and light you have now – but now, it's brighter. You seem lighter.

Happier.

You seem like you're home.

"What do you think?" You ask gently, wrapping your hand around Wonwoo's arm. He instinctively covers your hand with his, and your father nods.

"I think you're in love." He shrugs, and Wonwoo's cheeks flush almost instantly. You chuckle, squeezing your hand around Wonwoo's arm before patting his chest.

"I've got some new pastries in the oven, shall we? I'm trying a new recipe." You wiggle your brows at your parents, who both smile as you extend your hands to them. They take them gingerly, letting you guide them into the kitchen. You look over your shoulder, sending Wonwoo a quick wink as you slip inside with them.

And, Wonwoo knows.

He knows you love him, as he stands in this shop – named for him, by you. Walls covered in you, by him. He knows you love him as you smile warmly at him, your eyes sparkling in a way he'd only ever seen with him – never with Seungcheol, or Hansol, or Mingyu.

Just him.

So, what does it matter? The moment, why does it matter? Why not hang onto it, as long as he can? Why not take in every ounce of your light so long as you allow it, and reflect it right back to you? Why not be a mirror of your love, a beacon of the same hope you hold, a star in the sky that also tells you there is something to wish upon?

Why waste it, when he can savor it – the way you look at him, the way you kiss him, touch him, the way you make him feel? How he's gone absolutely mad just looking at you in the mornings, slowly waking up by his side, burying your face into his bare chest? Why waste the moment when he can capture it – your smiles, your tears, the way you cover your face shyly when he compliments you.

Why not live in the moment – the feeling of your lips against his, the way you claw his shirt off, the way you whimper beneath him while fully clothed and untouched? Why not live in the moment, where he gets to hear you laugh like no one's listening, watch you dance like there is no tomorrow? Why not, when you ask him to take the long way home and roll the windows down, singing along to his playlist and feeling the air whip your hair around until your face is frosty from the wind.

Why not live in this moment – when you're so irrevocably in love with him, and he doesn't have to ever question it because you don't even need to tell him? Where you've related him to a cat that always finds its way back home, where you're supposedly the home and you are – but you are also the cat that finds her way home all on her own?

Why not? "Wonwoo? Are you listening?" "Huh? Sorry." He rubs his neck sheepishly, before noticing he's sitting at the bar of your shop, a dulce de leche éclair sitting on a plate in front of him. Your parents are in the corner, holding their own pastries and analyzing the photos once more. You're leaning your back on the bar next to him, your elbows holding you up as you reach over and gently carding your fingers through his hair.

"I said, I love you." "Now, why does it sound like you're scheming? Tell me what you really said." "It is, promise." You chuckle, your hand coming to pinch his cheek softly. He frowns, only making you coo up at him as you brush your lips to his. He glances up quickly, seeing your parents still enthralled by the photo of you and Mingyu at the waterfalls all those years ago. He looks back down, seeing you absently scanning his face as your thumb continues to rub circles into his face.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, before your father turns around and clears his throat. You look over your shoulder lazily, and your father has the pastry plates in his hand. "Your mother and I are going to start heading out now, honey. We've got a long drive back, and I'm sure you want to clean up a bit around here before your big opening tomorrow." "You're right, Dad. Thank you for coming, I'm glad you two could be the first to see it." Your voice is so warm, he can feel all the stress from his days just melting right off him as you walk your parents to the front. He follows suit, lingering behind as you and your parents say your goodbyes. He interjects his own, enveloping both of your parents in a hug before pulling away. You both wave as they get into their car, your mother waving back as they pull into the street and all the way down the road, before their car turns out of sight.

You turn around, your arms crossed as you look up.

"Goyangi's Home. What a name, isn't it?" You sigh, before glancing over at Wonwoo. He shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your giggle is like music to his ears as your hands rest on his chest, your lip tucked beneath your teeth as you look up at him.

"Well, you're home, aren't you?" "Aren't you, Wonwoo?"

"I am. I love you, you know."

He feels his chest ache in the best way possible, his heart beating twice as fast as you wrinkle your nose at him.

"I know. I love you, honey." So it's fine. It's fine, as Wonwoo lets you kiss his lips once, twice, three times before you slip back into the shop. It's fine, as Wonwoo walks in behind you, his fingers locking the front door so no one mistakes the shop as open. It's fine, as you hand him a broom and make him sweep the shop while you roll out the dough in the back, your hands coated in flour when he comes to steal a kiss.

Or two, or three – until you're pushed against the industrial fridge, his hands wrapped around your thighs as yours tangle in his hair. He doesn't care about the flour. He doesn't care that you'll both be here late to roll out the stupid dough, he doesn't care as long as you're with him.

He doesn't care about the time differences anymore. The kilometers of distance, the aches of missing you. He doesn't care, and he'd do it ten times over just to be worthy of you. 

He doesn't care about how pathetic he might sound as he kisses down your neck, begging you to be his girlfriend, begging you to never, ever leave him again.

He doesn't care about all the painful moments he used to hang onto, because you are the best moment to ever capture.

He cares when you promise that you'll never leave him again, your lips soft against the shell of his ear. He cares when you say yes, you'll be his girlfriend. You'll be anything he wants, for as long as he wants it. So yeah, he'll live in this moment. He'll keep it, hold it, cherish it forever as more whispers float off your lips to one another. I love you.

haologram © 2025 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[kaiser1ns]

#. KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, suo hayato, kaji ren, togame jo, takiishi chika, endo yamato

fluff. since when did you dream of a first kiss with the boy you like. and the chance finally came, but not everything turned out as imagined.

up to 500-600 words per scenario, i tried my best, sorry i'm still trying to describe romantic scenes womp womp, like and subscribe!

UMEMIYA HAJIME

You are so in love with this man that you can't get enough. Literally, you can't get enough of the way he is so oblivious to the hints you drop every single day. He is laughing yet again at something, surrounded by Furin first years and Hiragi at Kotoha's cafe. The desire to smack him on the head and tell him he is so stupid grows faster than the vegetables in his garden. Only Kotoha seems to notice your gloomy mood — you haven't touched the food she prepared, and it makes her worry.

"I'm going to give up if he doesn't do something soon," you tell your best friend, your voice tinged with frustration.

She pats your hand reassuringly. "It'll be okay. Don't mind Hajime's antics. Boys take time to develop, you know."

You thank her and finish your food, but you still want to go home. Being in his presence feels draining right now. You quietly say goodbye to Kotoha and immediately leave, while she wonders what she can do to help you out.

You aren't far away when you hear running footsteps behind you and the voice you knew all too well. "Y/N, wait for me, please!" It's Umemiya, running worriedly towards you. You turn to face him as he pants from the exertion. "Kotoha said you wanted to talk about something with me. Is that why you left?"

Oh my, this girl. How dare she does this to you? You didn't want to tell him, you were supposed to be mad at him. "It seems that I have forgotten what I was going to say," you murmur, turning on your heel to walk away again. But he hugs you from behind, his grip strong and tight, your back against his chest.

"You wanted to have your first kiss, right?" There it goes, your best friend spilled everything to her brother. "I've noticed everything you did to indicate your wants and needs. I was just waiting for the right moment, when we aren't with people, like this ..."

He lets you go, turning you around and kissing you. His eyes are closed, but yours widen in surprise. The feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your back makes you relax. You're a blushing mess, a whirlwind of butterflies and emotions coursing through you. Hands find their way to his chest, feeling his heartbeat race as fast as yours.

When he finally pulls away, his eyes meet yours, filled with a tenderness you've longed to see. "I'm sorry it took me so long," he murmurs, his voice soft and sincere. You smile, your heart swelling with the butterflies going there instead. "You better make it up for all the waiting."

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I guess I am a bit dense, huh?" You laugh, the sound light and genuine, laying your head on his chest and hearing his heartbeat once again as he hugged you "Just a bit."

As he walks you to your home, hand in hand, you can't help but think about Kotoha and how she played Cupid, knowing exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t.

SAKURA HARUKA

You’ve heard it all before, the endless litany of self-deprecation and doubt that spills from Sakurs’s lips like a broken record. It’s a familiar routine by now, his recounting of how he doesn’t deserve kindness or acceptance, how your sweetness to him feels misplaced. His voice wavers with each confession, half-hoping you’ll agree and half-fearing you’ll walk away.

“I don’t get why you’re so nice to me,” he says for the umpteenth time, eyes downcast. “I don’t deserve it.” Your eye twitches. You’ve had enough. The words repeat in your head, grating on your nerves. You care about him deeply, but his lack of self-worth is starting to drive you insane. He’s strong, capable, a fighter in every sense of the word—except when it comes to himself.

“Oh my god, Sakura, stop with this bullshit,” you snap, sharper than you intended. He blinks, taken aback. “Hah!?”

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s so frustrating. ‘I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve that.’” You mimic his tone, letting your irritation seep through. His eyes narrow, anger mixing with confusion. "Huh!?" He clenches his fists, the familiar motion of cracking his knuckles following. It’s a gesture meant to intimidate, but you’ve seen it too many times to be scared. “Shut up before I make you,” you threaten.

He meets your gaze gaze, unflinching. “Make me then. Let your fists do the talking.”

That’s it. The breaking point. You stand up abruptly, closing the distance between you. He braces himself, expecting a fight. You can see the conflict in his eyes, torn between his instinct to fight and his deep-seated fear of hurting you. Instead, you grab his face with both hands and pull him into a kiss. It’s sudden, forceful, and completely unexpected. His body tenses up, then melts against you, stunned into silence.

When you pull back, his face is a shade of red you didn’t think was possible to achieve. He’s a mess of incoherent sounds, his mind clearly struggling to process what just happened. “W-what… Huh!?”

“You shouldn’t talk so much crap,” you say calmly, sitting back down. “It’ll lead you to problems.”

He stands there, dazed and silent, a stark contrast to his usual self. You relish the quiet, the absence of his self-doubt hanging in the air. Finally, a moment of peace. Sakura haven't said a word all day, lost in his thoughts. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, hoping that your impulsive act has left an impression, that maybe he’ll start to see himself the way you see him.

SUO HAYATO

The boy himself, the living legend of making people accept his requests with his teasing smile, is sitting next to you. His beautiful dark brown eyes make you melt like chocolate left out in the hot sun. Suo Hayato, the enigma from the neighboring school, is here in your living room, surrounded by your scattered chemistry notes. You begged him for help with your homework, and in his usual style, he agreed with a condition. You, expecting another teacake request, readily agreed.

The two of you sit on the floor, papers spread out across the table. Hayato explains the properties of alkaline metals and their reactions. His hand occasionally brushes against yours, sending a jolt through your system each time. He notices your reactions, the subtle glances you steal, the way you tense and relax. He is enjoying himself, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“And that’s all. I’m sure you’ll ace the test, L/N-san,” he concludes with a smile.

A few days later, you find yourself beaming as you show him your test. Maximum points. You’re the only student with a perfect score, and Hayato knows it. His smile widens, and his eyes gleam with satisfaction.

“I knew you’d do it. But don’t you forget something?” he prompts.

Ah, yes, his reward. “No, I didn’t forget, Suo-kun.” You reach into your bag and pull out a box of homemade teacakes. “Here, just the way you like them.” He takes the box, smiling with one eye closed, the other hidden beneath his signature eyepatch. “Oh, thank you very much. So kind as always.” he pauses “But I wanted something sweeter.”

Confused, you stand there trying to figure out what he means. Wasn’t he on a diet? Perhaps you should brew him some tea. He chuckles, observing you and most possibly reading your thoughts.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want freshly brewed tea.” His voice is soft, but there's an edge to it. How does he always know what you’re thinking? Does he know you wanted to kiss him while you studied? His perceptiveness is both thrilling and intimidating.

“So what do you want?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. He closes the distance between you in a heartbeat. “You.”

Before you can process his words, his lips are on yours, warm and insistent. Your bag slips from your shoulder, landing with a soft thud. The kiss is everything you imagined and more, a perfect blend of surprise and inevitability. You feel the chemistry, the undeniable connection between element Suo and element Y/N, strong and unbreakable.

You pull away, still in shock, as he steps back. His hands are behind his back, holding the box of teacakes, but his eyes are fixed on you. He turns to leave, but glances back over his shoulder.

“I’ll be waiting for more chemistry tests to help you out,” he says, a promise in his voice. And you know, without a doubt, that his request will always be met.

KAJI REN

You had always admired the way Kaji Ren seemed to be in his own world, headphones clamped over his ears and a strawberry lollipop lazily balanced between his lips. He was lost in thought, probably wondering about you, always worried—if you needed help, how your day went, if there was someone he needed to deal with for you. His obliviousness gave you the perfect opportunity. You appeared in front of him and, snatching the lollipop from his mouth, putting it in your own.

"What the—" His initial reaction was irritation, a typical Kaji Ren tantrum brewing, until he saw you standing there, and that devilish look in your eyes. You were still in your school uniform, like you always are when he waits to walk you home.

"Oh, strawberry one. My favorite." You teased, a smile tugging at your lips. He scoffed, too tired to engage in your banter, as started walking behind you, when you suddenly stopped. Before he could react, you snatched his headphones and dashed off.

You were fast, but Kaji was faster. In a heartbeat, he caught up, slamming you gently against the nearest wall, his arms caging you in. You looked up at him, a devilish grin on your face.

"Now, what, Ren?" you taunted, breathless.

For a moment, he just stared, as if trying to figure out his next move. Then, in a move that surprised both of you, he grabbed the lollipop from your mouth and tossed it on the ground. His lips crashed onto yours with a hunger and urgency that sent the butterflies right into your stomach. He kissed you like he’d been starving for it, tasting the sweet strawberry flavor that lingered on your lips.

You kissed back with equal hunger, your hands tangling in his hair. Time seemed to stand still as you both poured everything into that kiss. When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, as you stared at the blonde boy.

"Do you want to try an apple flavor next time?" you asked, a teasing once again.

"Shut up," he muttered, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. He snatched his headphones back and started walking again, but you weren’t ready to let go just yet. You ran up to him and slipped your hand into his. For a moment, you thought he might pull away, but instead, he squeezed your hand tightly.

TOGAME JO

You never go into Shishitoren territory without Togame. He’s your personal bodyguard, a very fine one at that, and he insists on accompanying you every time. Texting him is a lost cause—he never responds. At least, that’s what he wants you to believe, even though your texts are the only ones he ever reads. So, you always call to tell him you are under the bridge, waiting for him.

Tonight, the two of you are wandering down a bustling street, searching for a pub to settle in. The crowd is big at this time of the night, and Togame keeps his hand firmly on your waist, ensuring you stay close. Despite him wanting to keep you close and safe, you are always slipping away, and it drives him crazy.

You meander through, your curiosity piqued by a very interesting shop window. Something inside catches your eye, and you pause to admire it. Meanwhile, he is frantic, scanning the crowd for any sign of you. When he finally spots you, relief floods his body, quickly replaced by an angry expression. The Shishitoren vice-capitain makes a note to buy the item for you tomorrow, but now is not the time. He strides over and grabs your hand, pulling you towards a quieter, more secluded area.

“What if something happened to you? Do you know how much I’d regret that?” His usual slow, measured speech is now rapid and laced with frustration.

You look down, guilt washing over you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

He sighs heavily, his expression softening as he sees your sad face. Gently, he tilts your chin up, his fingers brushing away the few tears that have escaped. “Don’t cry now, pretty girl.”

Before you can respond, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. You hadn’t expected your first kiss to happen like this, in a quiet, dimly lit alley, but it’s with Togame Jo, and that’s all that matters.

His hands cradle your face, thumbs tracing soothing patterns on your skin. You close your eyes, relaxing in his touch, your heart pounding in your chest. It is soft, tender, and unhurried. There’s no rush, no urgency—just the two of you in this moment. His lips are warm, and he takes his time, savoring the feel of you, as butterflies made their way to your stomach. When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless, faces mere inches apart.

He presses his forehead against yours, a small smile playing making its way, reassuring you that everything was fine, “Just... don’t do that again, okay?”

You nod, still dazed from the kiss. He entwines his fingers with yours, leading you back to the crowded street, but this time, his grip is gentler, more safe. The bustling city seems a little less overwhelming with him by your side, and you can’t help but smile, stealing glances at him, your heart fluttering with every step. Togame catches your eye and squeezes your hand, his own smile growing wider.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

He showed up at your house, knocking on the window as you sighed, getting up from your bed. You, of course, let him in, seeing how he was again stained with blood that was not his. It was the same every time: he came to you so you could patch him up, fix him, give him a shower, change of clothes and a place to sleep in. You never ask questions, and he never offers explanations. Tonight is no different as you sit in his lap, bandaging his face and hands.

You're not a couple; you're not anything. It’s complicated. There are unspoken words between you, a delicate balance that neither of you dares to disrupt. As you sit on his lap and clean his face, you find yourself closer than before. His yellow eyes, intense and piercing, lock onto yours, heart races, each beat echoing in your ears. You’re getting closer, inch by inch. Hesitation grips you, your breath caught in your throat.

"Don't move." Just as you think of pulling away, his hand moves behind your head, gently but firmly pushing you forward. Your lips meet his in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s surprising, the gentleness of it, especially coming from someone as fiery and unpredictable as Chika. The kiss is brief, a fleeting moment that feels that for once you were something. When it ends, you pull back slightly, searching his eyes for any hint of what this meant to him. But his expression is the same as every day. And then you are back to becoming nothing.

For you, it meant everything. It’s a confirmation of the connection you’ve always felt but never acknowledged. But what did it mean for him? You're not sure, and you don't dare to ask. Not now. Maybe not ever. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. You can think about this later. Right now, he still needs you. You focus on his injuries, cleaning and bandaging.

Chika watches you work, his eyes never leaving your face. You can feel the weight of his gaze, and it only makes you more aware of your own feelings. But you don’t let it distract you. You finish bandaging his hands and move to check for any other injuries, your fingers brushing against his skin, meanwhile, he gently caresses your thighs with his thumbs leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

When you’re done, you lean back, surveying your work. He looks a bit better now, though still battered and bruised. You meet his eyes again, and this time there’s something different there. Something softer, more vulnerable — a golden hue reflects the dim light, adding a warm, almost ethereal quality to the sun.

“There all done,” you say quietly, unable to trust your voice to say more. You stand up, as you don't want to leave his embrace but you have to clean up the supplies scattered around and prepare a bath. As you move around the room to get him new clothes you can feel his eyes on you, following your every move. You wonder if he’s thinking about the kiss, about what it meant. You wonder if he feels the same confusion, the same longing, the same love.

ENDO YAMATO

The wind lifting strands of his dark hair and whipping them around his face. He’s talking about something, his tattooed hands tracing patterns in the air. But you’re not listening. You’re caught up in the way his lips move, the curve of his smile, the glimmering in his eyes.

"...and Takiishi was there, you know? Doing that thing he always does," Endo continues, oblivious to your silent longing. Takiishi Chika. Again. You frown, a little annoyed now. Why does he always have to bring up Chika?

"Endo," you say, softly at first, hoping to catch his attention. He doesn’t notice.

"Takiishi’s just so unpredictable. I never know what he’s going to do next."

"Endo," you repeat, louder this time. Still, he’s lost in his own world, his words tumbling out like the wind itself, unstoppable and carefree.

"And then, Takiishi—"

"Endo!" You say it sharply, frustration bubbling up inside you. He finally pauses, blinking at you in surprise. You take a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, before he can say anything, you reach up and grab his collar, pulling him down to your height. His eyes widen in shock, but you don’t give him time to react. You press your lips to his, silencing him in the most effective way you know.

Feeling his lips against yours, the taste of his breath mingling with your own. It’s not perfect. It’s rushed and a little clumsy, your noses bump awkwardly, and you can feel him tense. But it’s real. It’s happening. And it’s better than any dream.

When you finally pull away, he’s staring at you, confusing and amusing gaze. His hands, still raised from his gesticulations, hover in the air, uncertain.

"Ah," he says, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I’m not good at judging people, am I?" You laugh, knowing how he chooses people and how his expectations are later contradicted, that right now is happening with you, "No," you agree, your voice soft. "You’re really not."

He rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Sorry. I guess I was talking too much."

"A little," you admit, your heart still racing. "But it’s okay."

He steps closer, his hand brushing against yours, indicating his motives. "Can I try again?" he asks, his voice quieter now, the playful edge gone. You nod, your breath hitching in your throat. "Please."

This time, when he kisses you, it’s slower, more deliberate. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin as you live your dream.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[bucketbueckers]

ONLY MINE

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader

content: filth, azzi and reader are just down bad asf there's no real top just vibes, nipple play, ab riding, oral, teasing, freaked out as fuck, academic validation as aftercare, kinda short and not proofread 😕 i apologize to paige bueckers and paige bueckers only

wc: 5.3k

synopsis: After bombing your most recent thermodynamics quiz, you’ve been locked in and busy on practice sets and worksheets in preparation for the next one. Maybe a little too busy, in fact, because your girlfriend is feeling needy and neglected, and, well, who are you to deny her any longer?

notes: i am not an engineer. yes i spent 10 minutes scrolling through sample thermodynamics practice sets to find a word problem that appears once (1 time) in this fic. im not just committed to the bit. i am married to it. yaps aside, i am trying my hardest to be responsible and stay on top of my classes LMAO 😭 butttttt i hope you like this ⬇️ anon (and good luck on your finals goat)!! im working on time management so i definitely will not be writing as much as i used to but i am still chronically online. feel free to send in an anon to say hello but as always i hope y'all like this one and happy pazzi hard launch day to those who celebrate 🫶

Saturated liquid water enters an orifice at a pressure of 100 psia and is throttled to a lower pressure of 20 psia. Determine the outlet temperature (F) and the specific entropy difference (Btu/lbm-R) between the outlet and the initial status. Assume steady state, steady flow, negligible heat transfer, and negligible changes in kinetic and potential energy.

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hopelessly lost.

The word problem stares unblinkingly at you. You’ve been meticulously working through this problem set for the past five hours, only pausing to use the restroom, refill your water bottle (because apparently you hydrate really well when you don’t know what the fuck’s going on), and grab a healthy, energizing snack (a handful of Starburst), but it’s starting to feel like you’ve been staring at this worksheet for years.

You never really struggled this much with a class. Math, physics, chemistry, you name it – there was always a pattern that you were good at isolating and exploiting. It made solving problems a lot easier, but thermodynamics? Figuring it out was taking a lot out of you. To make matters worse, nothing seems to help, either. Not even your go-to tutors on YouTube who could explain quantum physics to a five year old with little difficulty.

At this point, you’re convinced it’s just some weird energy in the universe that has severed the connections between your brain cells. This couldn’t possibly be your fault. You bombed your thermodynamics quiz on Wednesday, which was strange because you’d walked into the lecture hall with the confidence of a man who was sure he knew where the clit was. Maybe you were a little tense – who wouldn’t be? You were juggling four classes, a TA position for a calculus course, and research into reaction engineering.

A heavy workload never deterred you, though. Not to the point of failing a quiz you thought you’d pass with flying colors. And nothing else had really changed for you either. Your routine was basically the same, you studied for the same amount of time, exercised and ate properly. Your girlfriend, Azzi, did have a string of away games that kept her out of Storrs for about a week and a half, but saying she’s the reason for your poor performance is kind of ridiculous, even if you do sleep better when it’s next to her or because she always listens to you ramble even if she has no idea what you’re talking about.

Now, Azzi is back, and she doesn’t have another away game for about two weeks. That’s a fact that would otherwise excite you, but you’re just trying to pass your classes. Your scholarship relies on your GPA, and without your scholarship, you might as well kiss UConn goodbye. You and Azzi were always intentional about understanding each other’s schedules. Basketball was demanding, possibly more demanding than engineering considering travel and recovery, so the both of you tried to maximize the amount of time you were able to spend together, even if it just consisted of Azzi quietly watching film next to you while you worked through your homework.

After burying your head in your hands, rubbing your temples, and reminding yourself of how sexy future you would look sitting courtside at one of Azzi’s WNBA games, chatting with the other WAGs like, “Oh, Dr. Fudd? Yes, that’s me,” you reach for your iPad with a deep sigh, rereading the word problem once more. Then you write down what you know. P₁ = 100 psia. P₂ = 20 psia.

Your hand stalls. You check the formula sheet, the swirl of letters and deltas and constants making your head ache. You blink again.

Your pen falls onto the couch cushion next to you as you heave another shuddering sigh, feeling like you’re about to crash out. You can’t fathom why this is so difficult for you.

Azzi’s voice is sudden, soft – it would otherwise startle you if you weren’t ready to be swallowed up by the ground and never return to earth. “I think you need a break,” she says, her voice coming from somewhere behind you, and you can hear the gentle footfalls of her sock-clad feet as she makes her way closer to you. Her hands find your shoulders, kneading gently, and you sigh again – this time in relief – as you melt into the couch.

“Can’t,” you mutter, grunting when her thumb catches on one of the knots. “I’ve already taken like…a million just from zoning out and losing my mind. Wasted enough time.”

You don’t have to see her face to visualize the amused, if not slightly concerned smile gracing her lips. “Are you not also wasting time by forcing yourself to work when it’s getting you nowhere?” she murmurs, her lips closer to your ear now. For that, you truly have no rebuttal, and she presses a lingering kiss to the edge of your jaw. Humming to yourself, you tilt your head, baring your throat, and her lips trace a deliberate path down the curve of your neck.

Her hands leave your shoulders, smoothing down your chest, and you intertwine your fingers together, getting lost in the heady scent of her perfume. You’d missed her – you really did. You and Azzi have been together long enough that you’re used to her having to travel a lot, but sometimes, it takes a little bit longer for your body to catch up and get the memo, too.

“Take a break,” Azzi whispers, her tone pleading, edged with a sort of neediness that makes you want to give in. You almost do – the warmth of her lips against your skin and the weight of her hands over your chest turning your brain into mush. “Let me take care of you. You’ve been so busy lately. You’re wearing yourself out.”

The first part of her statement has you ready to turn off your laptop and give Azzi whatever she wants from you. But the second? All it does is remind you about the quiz you’d just failed, the fact you have another quiz in less than a week, and how you’re not any closer to understanding the material. It sobers you instantly.

“Later,” you whisper, feeling a little guilty. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend time with Azzi – God, it’s all you’ve wanted to do since she got back to Storrs, but you knew you’d just fall into shitty time management problems if you didn’t get your work done.

“Babe,” Azzi complains, her tone exasperated and needy all at once. Her grip on you tightens ever so slightly, leaning fully against the couch to press her cheek to your temple. You fall back into her, your eyes slipping shut despite yourself.

“Sorry, Az,” you say apologetically, turning your head slightly to kiss the closest patch of skin you can reach, which happens to be the hinge of her jaw. She sighs softly, then brushes her lips across your forehead before releasing you. You miss the contact immediately but she makes her way to the front of the couch and sits down on the cushion next to you. Intertwining your fingers to get her attention, you squeeze her hand gently. She glances over, doe eyes wide, simmering with a heat and want that makes your stomach flip. “Let me finish this problem, then I’m yours. I promise.”

She crosses one leg over her knee, a petulant expression on her face as she sinks into the cushions. “Better be worth it, Dr. Fudd,” she grumbles, which makes you smile a little. You plant a chaste, innocent kiss on her lips, smirking when she chases after you. You release her, reaching for your pen and your iPad again, but you swear you hear her muttering under her breath, “Cockblocked by an engineering assignment. This is what I get for dating a smart person.”

Her indignance and impatience amuses you, which just motivates you to finish this problem as quickly as you can. You start over again, rereading the problem and isolating the facts that you know. You check your formula sheet again, struggling to find the one you need given what you have and what variable you want to solve for. All the while, you can feel Azzi’s gaze on you, dark and beseeching. It honestly makes it difficult to focus – knowing you have your very needy girlfriend sitting on the couch next to you and begging for one ounce of attention, but you know she’ll thank you later when you’re a super rich engineer and you build her a custom library in the house you’ll share together.

(Granted, she’ll be a super rich baller, so she wouldn’t exactly be hurting financially without you and she could get the library, but as long as you were around, you were committed to ensuring that Azzi wouldn’t have to lift a finger.)

Azzi allows you to struggle in peace. You make zero progress, just as she predicted. You read a few pages in your textbook. You watch a YouTube video on the process and still, you get nowhere. Already feeling a little frustrated, you try another approach.

But then Azzi’s palm finds your thigh. It breaks your focus immediately – not like it wasn’t already hanging by a thin thread – and you glance over at her, one brow raising in amusement. She doesn’t look the least bit remorseful about distracting you; in fact, she’s wearing a smug little smile that breaks down all of your defenses. “You promised, Az,” you remind her.

“You promised, too,” she declares. The confusion must be clear on your face because she explains, “Girlfriend code. You have a duty to give me attention.”

“Oh, do I?” you echo, biting your lip to stifle a smile.

Azzi’s dead serious, though. Her eyes meet yours, temptation laced in her pupils, a pout tugging at her lips. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to stand your ground against that, but you have to pretend to have some sort of academic responsibility.

“You do,” she confirms. “Agreed to it when you said you loved me, in fact.”

“I wasn’t aware that was in the fine print,” you respond, tangling your fingers with hers before she has the chance to inch her palm further up your thigh.

Azzi narrows her eyes at you. “Well, it is,” she insists. “And I want you.”

“Is that what this is about?” you murmur teasingly. “My girl needs me?”

Azzi nods, her expression a devastating mix of hopeful and needy, and it makes you ache. But you glance down at your iPad, at the word problem staring back at you — unsolved — and you hate yourself for what you do next.

You kiss her again, your free hand reaching to cup her jaw, and she melts into you instantly. You draw back just before it grows too intense, murmuring, “After this problem.” You’re sure that Azzi almost fucking growls, her brows drawing together tightly. In any other situation, you’d find it endearing, but you can’t help but feel guilty. You have work to do, and you know that Azzi wouldn’t let you rest until the sun is in the sky again. “Sorry, baby.”

But Azzi is out of rationale — and patience. She leans away from you long enough to shut the lid of your laptop on the coffee table, then she yanks your iPad out of your hands. It lands somewhere on the far end of the couch as your pen clatters harmlessly onto the floor, rolling somewhere out of view, and you hardly have the time to react before Azzi straddles you in one quick motion. Her lips are on yours immediately. You gasp, hands reaching out to grip her hips, and she swallows the moan that tumbles from your mouth.

Her hands are around your neck, drawing you in closer to her, yours roaming across her sculpted thighs, tightening in the loose fabric of her shorts. They ride up on her legs the more she presses against you and you take advantage of the miles upon miles of tanned skin laid before you. It makes you keen, sighing into her mouth, and Azzi slips her tongue inside, brushing against yours.

It’s all heat from there — Azzi’s hips roll against yours in a slow, methodical grind, her fingers trailing down your chest to tangle in the hem of your shirt. She breaks away from your mouth, lips swollen, spit-slick and urgent as she mutters, “Off, please.”

You don’t have the words to deny her, not that you would in the first place. Not when you can feel the heat of her core against your thigh, the dampness that’s seeped through her underwear and shorts all at once. Pulling away from her, you raise your arms, allowing her to pull your shirt off, intent on getting your hands back on her, but Azzi stops you with a palm to your chest — your bare chest, having neglected a bra for comfort that morning. 

Her eyes are glazed over, pupils dark and wanting. The way she stares shamelessly would make you feel insecure and vulnerable if you weren’t able to read the desire in her features, the way her jaw goes slack at the sight of you. It’s not new — Azzi has seen you in various states of undress over the course of your relationship. A sheer bikini on cruises, in nothing but her jersey and a flimsy pair of her boxers, or as naked as the day you were born. It doesn’t matter how many times Azzi has sat upon your lap with your breasts cupped in her hands like she’s holding the world in her palms – she thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, and if you had any sensibility, you’d probably ask, “Has she seen herself?”

Not wanting to be alone in your nakedness, you reach for the hem of Azzi’s shirt, glancing up at her through your lashes for permission. She nods quickly and you don’t waste anymore time before pulling the dark blue shirt off of her, your own jaw going slack as you take her in. She’s all muscles and tanned skin, firm sinew in most places yet soft in others. You want to get your hands on her immediately, so you do – pressing heatedly against her stomach, grazing her belly piercing and the curve of her waist, pulling her flush against you like you can’t get enough of her skin against yours.

She reaches for your wrists to pull your hands off of her body. You make a noise of protest, but she silences you with a deep kiss, insistent and hungry as she shifts to the side, tugging you down on top of her now as she positions herself against the pillows and the armrest at the end of the couch. The change has your head spinning, especially when Azzi pushes her knee between your legs, the muscle of her thigh dragging against your clit in a way that’s almost devastating.

Your entire body is pulsing, suddenly aware of the need building in your body. It feels like it’s taken root in your bones. Like all you’ve needed these past few weeks were Azzi, not anything else. And judging by the way her fingers slip under the waistband of your sweatpants, pressing firm against your skin and tugging the restricting material down? Azzi is more than willing to give herself to you – in whatever way you need it.

You try to grind down onto Azzi’s thigh, searching for the contact, but she takes your hips in your hands, perching you precariously over her body, only inches away from what you need. You break away from her lips long enough to brush your mouth across her jaw, finding her ear to beg, “Please, Az, need it.”

A smirk curls her lips, slow and smug. The tables are turned now – she’d spent so long asking for you to put your assignment down, and now you’re the one pleading for her to touch you. Azzi is a competitor by nature. You may never truly understand how much she enjoys watching you break beneath her.

“Where have I heard that one before?” she murmurs, dragging heated kisses across your chest, lips wrapping around a nipple as you open your mouth. Your next words get caught in your throat, a moan taking its place, and you curl a hand around Azzi’s neck, pulling her closer to you.

“‘M sorry, baby,” you gasp in between stuttered breaths, your hips twitching when she bites gently at your bud. Azzi hums against you, sending vibrations up your spine as your body arches into her mouth and her wandering hands. Remembering where you are, you allow your hands to drop from Azzi’s neck down to her waist, fingers hooking into the band of her shorts. “Lemme make it up to you,” you plead, trembling with need. You want so badly to pull these shorts off of her, but she hasn’t given you the all clear yet. You may be the one on top and the one who wants to please her, but if she wasn’t going to allow you, there was little you could do.

“I wonder if I could make you come like this,” Azzi mumbles instead, releasing your nipple with a wet pop, and one of her hands reaches up to rub the spit across the bud while her lips trail to the other one, biting gently to make you shudder. Your breath catches, hips still hovering overs hers. “Dripping all over me while I take my time. Do you think I could?”

“Fuck,” you whimper, arching into her hands again, moaning when she pinches you with the right amount of pressure to send white hot desire to your core. Your head falls onto her shoulder, fingers abandoning her waistband to brace yourself against the couch cushion for stability. “Whatever you want, Az, just make me come – please.”

It wouldn’t take much. You’re already worked up, both from Azzi’s efforts and the stress of the week melting away into something softer. You hadn’t realized how much you truly needed this – the break away from your homework to breathe and just be. But you feel Azzi’s smile growing against your skin, her tongue poking out from her lips to circle your nipple, before she whispers, “Another time, maybe,” and she pulls you onto her bare stomach.

The first press feels like fire. It punches a gasp out of you, pleasure and relief coursing through your veins in simultaneous streams. Azzi’s abs are firm, inviting, and you rut against them desperately, needing to get off. Your aching clit catches against the piercing on her navel and a wrecked moan spills from your lips. Azzi’s muscles contract, providing you with a harsher slide, and your eyes all but roll into the back of your head when she carefully bites down on your nipple, her fingers rolling the other.

The free hand not occupied with your chest curls around your waist, helping pull you down against her. Eventually, Azzi begins to control your pace as you’re struggling to keep yourself up, and the sensations are overwhelming in the best way possible. You’re impossibly wet, sliding against Azzi’s stomach with little resistance, angling your hips to get the best friction against your clit. You wrap your arms around her neck, tears pooling in your eyes because it feels so good, and holding on is all you can do, moaning breathlessly into her ear.

Azzi pulls away from your chest with a wet noise, her lips swollen and slick, eyes glazed over with want. It makes you breathless for an entirely different reason now. You’re the only person who gets to see Azzi like this, needy and determined to make you fall apart. You were the first, but to know that you’re also the last? You will your hips into a firmer grind, the slight possessiveness making your head spin.

But then she releases you, something dark, smug, but also reverent clouding her expression. “Take it,” she murmurs, leaning back against the armrest slightly. She’s no longer holding you up by the hips, but her hand lingers at your chest, tweaking and pulling your bud until it juts out firmly, wet with her spit. “You wanted this so bad? Show me. Take it.”

Groaning, you tighten your grip on her shoulders, pressing yourself further against her body for stability as you rock into her. Her face is screwed up, sweat beading at her temples, and you can’t be sure if it’s from the heat of the room or from the sheer determination of clenching her abs. Either way, you can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips to hers, swallowing her indulgent moan as you chase your high. 

Her piercing catches against your clit again, causing you to lose your rhythm momentarily. Azzi bites your lip once in warning as she orders, “Faster.” Your thighs and core burns from the exertion, but the desire coursing through your veins motivates you. When your pace returns to her liking, she rewards you with a blinding smile and a “So good for me, baby. You wanna come?”

You nod shakily against her, forehead pressing into hers, and she kisses you once more – slow, lingering, filthy like she’s trying to memorize the way you taste when you’re desperate for her. Azzi takes your hips in her hands again and she aids in your rhythm, pulling you onto her harshly, drawing you closer and closer to your orgasm until a cry rips from your throat. “So close, Az,” you whine, meeting her eyes. They’re more black than brown, her pupils blown wide, and the sheer need reflected there makes you weak. “Please, please, please, Azzi.”

“Let go,” she murmurs, her voice dangerously sweet compared to the way she’s dragging you across her stomach. “Take what you need. Gonna give it to you, you know that.”

And that’s all you need. You rut against her once more, twice, your jaw dropping with pleasure, body tingling as you fall apart over her. You press your lips to hers to silence your cries and she swallows each and every whimpered sound like it energizes her. She’s still guiding you, her movements slowing now, letting you ride out the aftershocks as you come back down to earth. You’re a little boneless, your forehead pressing to her clavicle, and she ghosts a kiss across your temple as she rubs your back soothingly.

Clearly, Azzi can’t seem to help herself, because she presses a smile to the crown of your head as she jokingly mutters, “So much better than homework, right?”

You roll your eyes, laughing, and you try to not think too hard about the fact that your throat feels scratchy and rough. “Much better,” you agree, feeling the weightlessness and ease seep into your bones, something deliciously heavy and comforting that makes you feel refreshed. New. “You’re so needy. Couldn’t wait twenty minutes.”

Azzi gasps indignantly. “I’ve waited like, two weeks!” she exclaims, nudging you halfheartedly. “A girl has needs, you know.” She says this last part with a snooty raise of her nose, which makes you shake your head, giggling again as you press a chaste, innocent kiss to her lips. She chases after you when you pull away, but the distance makes her eyes narrow, brows pulling together like she’s just realized something. “You couldn’t wait either. It was all ‘please, Azzi,’ this, ‘make me come, Azzi,’ that. You’re dirty.”

That makes you lean away from her, disbelief in your features. “Me?” you echo, aghast, fully aware that the both of you are arguing like toddlers at this point. “You’re dirty. You made me ride your abs–” Azzi raises a challenging brow which has you backtracking immediately. “Okay, I don’t know about made me. That was really hot, by the way.” You punctuate your point with another kiss, one that lasts not nearly long enough so you can get back to the point you were trying to make. “Also, you should probably disinfect your piercing.” Azzi hums, arms curling around your waist, and she ghosts her lips across your collarbone as you continue to defend yourself. “Either way, you’re still dirty.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything. She glances at you with an amused grin, then glances down at her stomach, where she glistens from a mixture of your slick and her sweat. Mostly your arousal, though. A flush creeps up your neck at the sight. You hadn’t registered how soaked she was. Having made her point, she swipes her finger through the mess, raising it to the light as if inspecting it. “You did this and I’m the dirty one?”

“Yes,” you deadpan, but the corners of your lips quirk up with amusement. Her smile softens, but morphs into one of confusion when you slide down her body, knees pressing into the cushions in between her legs. “Let me make it up to you?” you offer, palming her thighs, fingers slipping under the waistband of her shorts once more. You can tell that her breathing has picked up, her mood shifting as easily as you crawled down.

“Yes, please,” she affirms, lifting her hips to help you pull her shorts and boxers down in one quick motion. You groan to yourself when her cunt is revealed to you – she’s soaked, her arousal having seeped into the cotton of her boxers, and you press a quick kiss to the inside of her thigh. “Don’t tease me.”

“I would never,” you lie, and then tease her anyways. You avoid her cunt completely, opting to lick a thick stripe across her stomach, gathering the slick pooled there on your tongue.

It makes her hips jump up, her voice pitched and a little breathless with shock as she mutters, “Shit, baby…” You smile to yourself, glancing up at her through your lashes, taking in her wrecked expression and the way her pupils are blown wide. Azzi is gripping onto the couch cushion like she’s teetering on the edge of falling apart already.

You don’t stop until her stomach is clean. Before you can settle between her thighs again, she grabs you by the shoulders, hauling you up until she can kiss you again. Azzi deepens the kiss immediately, her tongue searching for yours, for the taste of you, and the moans greedily as you squeeze her hips.

When she breaks away for air, her chest is heaving, and she looks ruined, ready for you to give her what she’s been craving for two weeks. You plant a farewell kiss at the edge of her jaw before trailing your lips down her body, sucking hickeys into her skin, soothing each one with your tongue.

Finally, you reach her cunt, and the sight of her spread out before you makes your mouth water. She tangles her fingers through your hair, guiding you closer, and you don’t make her wait any longer before you kiss her clit gently, smiling when her hips buck. Your tongue swipes through her soaked folds, her body shuddering when you moan indulgently into her, and you wrap your arms around her thighs to keep her stabilized.

You fuck her like you’re starved – which you may as well be. Your nose brushes against her sensitive clit with every motion you make, making her cry out, her hand pushing you to the spot she likes as if you don’t know her body like the back of your hand. Still, you listen to the direction, allowing her to pull your head towards her clit. You suck it into your mouth, cheeks hollowing from the pressure, rubbing the broad side of your tongue over it when she moans softly.

Her thighs enclose around your head, the pleasure causing her hips to buck wildly, and this? You could die here, in between her legs, and you wouldn’t even be able to think of a better way to go out. Azzi’s cries are like music to your ears, her taste like nectar.

When her fingers tighten in your hair, her hips beginning to gyrate in search of her high, you press a little further into her, allowing her to grind against your tongue. Your hands rub soothing patterns against her abdomen, eyes slipping shut at the sound of her moans, and before you know it, she’s whining, “Close, baby.”

You take her free hand in yours, squeezing gently as her body trembles, and she holds onto you as she comes, her body melting into the couch cushions as you work her slowly, helping her come back down. You know Azzi gets oversensitive fast, so you listen for her cues, letting up on her when it becomes too much. Drawing back, you plant one last kiss to her thigh, her navel, her collarbone, then to her lips, where you feel her smile grow against you.

You smooth out her hair by her forehead where a few of the strands have escaped from the tie. Her eyes blink open, her gaze impossibly tender, her smile soft. It makes you fall a little bit further in love with her, which is probably a feat in and of itself. “Okay?” you whisper.

She turns her head to kiss your wrist. “Okay,” she confirms, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you flush against her. Then, in a quieter tone of voice, she confesses, “Missed you.”

You kiss her cheek, tucking your head into the crook of her neck. “Missed you too, Az,” you respond. “Never travel for two weeks ever again.”

She laughs gently, her nails skirting across your skin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The both of you fall into a calm silence until you break it. “I’m sorry I neglected you,” you say genuinely, feeling a little remorseful. “I just wanted to get my work done, but I think I got a little too obsessive about it. You were right to say I wasn’t getting anywhere with it.”

“You know I understand your schedule,” Azzi says softly. “You have a lot to do. I just needed you.” She doesn’t say much else – and she doesn’t need to. That’s just the truth.

You smile a little as you kiss her jaw. “I know,” you murmur. “I’ll do better.”

She tightens her arms around you. “Good. You can start by helping me into the bathtub and ordering takeout.”

That makes you laugh, your nose brushing against her cheek. “Yes, ma’am.” The room goes quiet again, nothing but the gentle hum of the AC and your breathing filling the space. The drag of Azzi’s fingers against your skin lulls you into a sense of peace, the pressure alleviating from your shoulders, and –

You pause. Your eyes blink open, your gaze falling onto your iPad. Pressure?

Saturated liquid water enters an orifice at a pressure of 100 psia and is throttled to a lower pressure of 20 psia–

You close your eyes in disbelief, the gears in your brain turning at rapid speed. You’re so fucking dumb.

“Az,” you murmur. She hums, letting you know she’s listening. “Can I start a little later?”

“What?” she mutters, but you’re already reaching over to the coffee table, grabbing your iPad and the pen that had rolled under the table leg. Azzi sighs dramatically as she watches you open it, but she presses a smile to the crown of your head as you work through the calculations. It only takes you about a minute, but you circle your answer with finality, latching the pen to the magnet on the device and closing it. “An orgasm was all it took to get that brain working, huh?”

“Maybe,” you admit a little sheepishly.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she says with faux indignance, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

And all you can do is stare at her, a soft little smile on your face. Because you are. You really, really are.

[humansofnewyork]

“I’m turning forty in August. Three kids, full time job. All my kids are under the age of seven. The amount of mental energy it takes, you know, juggling all of them and the constant questions about nothing. I mean, mom is busy, please, just give me a second. My husband tells me that it’s just the season we’re in. We’ll get back to it. But I just want it to slow down so I can pause and breathe. Everything just changes so fast, you know? When you’re a little kid, and you turn into a teenager, it’s like: ‘Oh, I’m changing now.’ But you’ve been coached. You’re prepared for it. Then you go from teenager to college. That’s a big change. Then from college into your twenties, still changing. But at some point you kinda feel like I’m an adult, and I’m done. But you just keep going. It’s like oh shit, no, no, I’m going to keep changing. And these aren’t like the earlier changes. These aren’t the ones you get to plan for. Well some of them are, like: ‘We’re moving to a new place.’ Or ‘I’m going to get a new job.’ Those you can be ready for. But as you get older shit starts getting thrown at you that you're not planning for. Dodgeballs. And you’ve just got to pivot. And all of the sudden you realize, that moment in time, right before the dodgeball, that was the last time you saw the old you. And you didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

[fastandcarlos]

My Little Graduate : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: as you prepare to wave goodbye to your student days, charles is there to celebrate your new role

pairing: charles x student midwife!reader

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 31,604 others

ynusername: last couple of weeks of stress before I can finally say goodbye to that student lanyard forever 👩🏻‍⚕️

4,058 comments

username1: ngl I’m just insanely jealous of that study setup, yn you must teach us your secrets!

charles_leclerc: can’t begin to tell you how proud I am, I promise that it’ll all be worth it 💋

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc couldn’t have got this far without you 💕

username2: we’re so proud of you yn, you’ve got this 🎉

landonorris: still blows my mind how hard you’re working, I could never do your job!

username3: whoever get you as their midwife is gonna be one incredibly lucky person!!

pierregasly: we can’t wait to see you say goodbye to that student lanyard too 🤩

username4: how she does this and support charles so effortlessly blows my mind 😂

carlossainz55: I can’t believe you still have the pin that I gave you when you first started 😂

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 I keep it with me forever I go ☺️

username5: I wish I had yn’s stamina to study and keep up with her busy lifestyle

username6: I’m stealing that photo to try and convince my parents that I’m studying too 🥺

iamrebeccad: can’t wait to tell everyone how amazing it is to have a qualified midwife as one of my best friends ✨

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by scuderiaferrari, landonorris and 2,948,261 others

charles_leclerc: another great qualifying session, hoping to keep it going and deliver tomorrow after a pep talk with my love 💞

138,605 comments

username7: you were amazing charles, p1 is yours tomorrow ❤️

scuderiaferrari: congratulations charles, the whole team is behind you tomorrow ❤️

landonorris: I’m right behind you and ready to pounce 👀

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris you don’t scare me 😂

username8: it’s so cute how him and yn always make sure they have time for each other!!

arthur_leclerc: yn is the best at giving pep talks, I mean she reassures enough parents that labour wont hurt everyday 😉

username9: we all know how much of a good luck charm yn is 😂

maxverstappen1: looking forward to another battle on track tomorrow!!

ynusername: so proud of you, I’ll be watching tomorrow 😘

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername good you need to make sure you’re taking plenty of breaks!!

username10: no doubt in my mind that we’ll see you at the top of the podium tomorrow charles

danielricciardo: deliver like your girl delivers babies??? 🙃

charles_leclerc: @/danielricciardo how long did it take you to think of that!?

username11: just think of yn tomorrow and that’ll get you over the line in top spot 💪🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 37,948 others

ynusername: another weekend spent with my head buried in books and glued to my laptop screen…so proud of you charles 🍾

4,069 comments

username12: please make sure you’re getting plenty of rest yn, we don’t want you to burn out now!!

carlossainz55: just gonna forget that the other guy in red got a podium too 😭

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 I’m proud of you too carlos don’t worry 😂

username13: it’s the sweetest how she’s always there for charles regardless of how much work she has to do 🥹

arthur_leclerc: I’m coming round to take you out and stop you burying your head into books!

ynusername: @/arthur_leclerc but I’m soooooo busy!!

arthur_leclerc: @/ynusername charles told me to keep an eye on you so stop arguing with me and pack your things up!

username14: once again I’m just here to admire the setup…

username15: he wouldn’t have got there if it wasn’t for your pep talk 😉

oscarpiastri: wish I could have brains as big as yours 🧠

carmenmmundt: if you ever need a study partner I volunteer myself to come and rest you!

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt might just have to take you up on that offer soon

username16: I wish I had this level of dedication to things in my life like yn does graduating

landonorris: those notes are making me stress just looking at them 🤦🏻

username17: remember to take care of yourself always yn 💕

charles_leclerc: thanks for your wise words last night angel, you always know what I need to hear ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lilymhe, carlossainz55 and 48,472 others

ynusername: charles offered to help me study, he lasted ten minutes before insisting he needed to lie down cause his head hurt ☺️💞

7,941 comments

username18: maybe charles should just stick to racing instead 😂

arthur_leclerc: it’s been a long time since this kid went to school, you should’ve known better than this yn!!

username19: he genuinely looks on the verge of a breakdown in that lost photo bless him

charles_leclerc: I swear half the words you said to me weren’t actually in the english language!!

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc now you know how I feel whenever you decide to talk about cars 🏎️

username20: everyone always underestimates how hard being a midwife truly is!!

landonorris: “and it all got too much for little charles leclerc…”

georgerussell63: I think you might’ve actually broken your boyfriend 🥲

username21: he lasted ten minutes longer than I ever would looking at all your notes yn 😂

carlossainz55: can’t believe you thought trying to study with charles was a good idea 🤦🏻‍♂️

carmenmmundt: sounds like you might need me to come and rescue you next time??

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt no one can do as bad of a job at study partner as this guy ☺️

username22: we all love a supportive boyfriend, at least he tried 😝

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, ynusername and 1,392,058 others

charles_leclerc: visiting the prospective graduate and delivering plenty of treats to the incredible team of midwives down at the hospital 💕

174,072 comments

username23: I love how charles takes care of all of them and makes sure they’re well fed 😭

ynusername: I’m sure they’ve only offered me a job when I graduate because they’re not ready to say goodbye to you and your extremely delicious cake deliveries 😂

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername what you don’t know is they all actually like me more than you 😝

username24: look at yn she looks like she’s born to be a midwife 😍

carlossainz55: and you just so happened to feel the need to share what an adorable boyfriend you are on social media did you???

username25: charles must be the favourite boyfriend on the ward if he’s delivering cakes like those!!

landonorris: us drivers work hard too but we don’t get any cake 🤷🏻

username26: now wondering what I have to do to get a boyfriend as sweet as him??

maxverstappen1: yn looks in her absolute element there 😍

danielricciardo: I wanna send them some cakes too for all their hard work, gimme an address to send something 📫

username27: yn really is the luckiest girl in the world 🥺

scuderiaferrari: admin here to remind you that you’ve got a team of engineers who also love cake very much 😅

charles_leclerc: @/scuderiaferrari deliveries on their way to montreal 🧁

username28: it’s adorable how charles is just constantly on yn and making sure that she’s taking care of herself 🫠

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 52,921 others

ynusername: all the hard work has paid off…officially a midwife and ready for duty 🥂👩🏻‍⚕️

13,859 comments

charles_leclerc: I wish I had the words right now to express just how insanely proud I am, I love you so much my little genius 💕

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc thank you for being by my side every step of the way 🥺

username28: this is the post I’ve been waiting for for so long, congratulations yn 👏🏻

danielricciardo: you should be so damn proud of yourself yn - congrats!!

username29: enjoy the feeling of finally being able to bin those crazy notes!!

scuderiaferrari: from everyone here at ferrari, we’re sending you lots of congratulations ❤️

carmenmmundt: secretly think you managed this because you had the best person testing you 🤣

username30: hands down gonna be the best midwife ever 🙌🏻

username31: no one can try and convince me those flowers aren’t from charles btw 💐

carlossainz55: ik just how hard you’ve worked for this, so proud of you!!

maxverstappen1: simply lovely my friend, so glad you’ve finally completed this chapter ☺️

username32: there’s no one more deserving yn, so glad your hard work was worth it 🫶🏻

arthur_leclerc: I’m honestly in awe of how hard you’ve worked for this, coolest sister in law ever!!

ynusername: @/arthur_leclerc thanks for being my secondary babysitter behind your brother 😂

username33: I hope you’ve got the biggest smile in the world on your face rn!!

iamrebeccad: not only did you compete it, you absolutely bloody smashed it ✅

username34: congratulations on the next step of your career yn 💞

landonorris: hands down my coolest and smartest friend just so you know 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri and 2,037,138 others

charles_leclerc: the day we’ve waited for…no one cheered louder than me in that graduation hall today. the proudest man in the world 🥂

218,504 comments

username35: I’m so glad you were able to be there and support your girl charles 🥺

ynusername: still can’t believe that you were actually there ✨

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername I wouldn’t have missed this for the world ❤️

username36: ofc you rolled up looking like the smartest man in the room too!

alex_albon: these photos are adorable, good job yn 🎉

carlossainz55: did you steal someone’s hat to take that middle photo!?

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 I’d never be smart enough to have one of my own 😂

username37: why can I picture him being like an embarrassing dad when yn’s name was called 😂

georgerussell63: congrats yn, you’re incredible 👏🏻

username38: can’t begin to imagine how proud you must’ve been feeling charles!

landonorris: be honest…did you cry?!

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris I might’ve shed a tear or two…

username39: just when I think you two can’t get anymore impressive, yn becomes a graduate 😂

arthur_leclerc: it must suck to be you when yn has both the brains and the beauty!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 53,949 others

ynusername: a day of firsts, so happy to finally be fully qualified and welcome my first little one into the world 🐣

12,597 comments

charles_leclerc: so happy for you, this is your moment and you deserve it so much sweetheart 💞

username40: oh yn this melts my heart…look how far you’ve come!!

carlossainz55: hope you’re having the time of your life yn, the team are so lucky to have you ☺️

landonorris: this is awesome yn, the first of many 💕

username41: I’m sorry but I can’t ignore the fact you’re all in crocs 😂

username42: that baby is so lucky to have been brought into this world by you!!

maxverstappen1: idk which is worse the crocs or the fact charles left our game of padel to deliver cakes 😂😂

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 one day I’m gonna convince you that crocs aren’t the devil!

username43: you were made for this job, you’re already a natural 😍

carmenmmundt: I think I might’ve just cried a little seeing these and knowing how much you wanted this 🥺

username44: hope you’re ready to be delivering any paddock babies now

iamrebeccad: I hope you know just how proud so many of us are of you 🫶🏻

username45: it makes me so happy to see all your dreams come true ✨

˚*•✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[weakformingyu]

More than meets the eye

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Inspired by Prison for life by Olivia Rodrigo

Summary: Chan is a pushover when it comes to doing things for you, but not so much when someone messes with his girl.

Warning: +18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N: let's thank Chili(@baby-yongbok) for this brainrot, she's the one who planted this idea in my head.

Chan who's the sweetest person you have ever met, the one who blushed and stuttered when asking you out.

Chan who's always a gentleman, opening all the doors for you, pulling the chair so you can sit, throwing his coat over your shoulders so you won't get cold.

Chan who lingers a bit longer when he says goodbye to you after taking you back home, trying to gather the courage to kiss you.

Chan who's surprised by the way you grab him by the collar and crash your lips on his.

Chan who gets flustered when you ask him to come inside with you, so you can talk more.

Chan who can't help but feel his face on fire when you start undressing in front of him, not sure where he should put his hands.

Chan who eats you out slowly, enjoying every sound that comes out of your mouth, sure that he could make the prettiest song in the world with just your moans.

Chan who asks you to be his girlfriend the next morning, taking you by surprise when you wake up to a full table of breakfast.

Chris who loves to do everything for you, you want to stay home cuddling? Done, he'll make popcorn and prepare a list of rom-coms for you two to watch together. You want to go out with him and his friends? Sure, he'll make sure the guys are on their best behavior. You want to go shopping? Bet, he'll clean his schedule so he can spend the day buying you gifts, even though you always argue that you can buy things with your own money.

Chris who finds you amazing, you're strong, smart and capable, everything you have was earned with your hard work and he would never want to cross that line or take that away from you.

Chris who has to stand his friends making fun of him 'cause he's such a pushover when it comes to you. He would let you step on him if you asked him to and he would do it smiling.

Chris who loves to buy you flowers every time you have a date with him, so he always goes out of his way to buy you a bouquet.

Christopher who arrives late to your date because the flower shop messed up his order and witnesses a man grabbing you by the wrist while you argue with the stranger.

Christopher who sees red when he realizes what's happening, dropping the flowers and walking fast to where you are.

Christopher who puts his hand on the shoulder of the man, smiling softly and asking to talk to the man outside.

Christopher who's suddenly not a pushover anymore, not when it comes to someone messing with his girl.

Christopher who comes back inside after twenty minutes, dirty dress shirt and knuckles bloody.

Christopher who drags you out of the bar, hugging you tightly when the cold air outside hits your skin.

Christopher who fucks you in the backseat of his car, biting and marking you and calling you names, far different from the gentleman you are used to but you're not complaining.

Christopher who chants how much he loves you while you cum around his cock, overstimulated by the new side of your boyfriend that you're just getting to know.

Chris who helps you fix yourself so you can get out of the car to sit on the front seat, deciding that you should just grab some food on the drive thru and go home.

You're a feminist obviously, you don't need a man. But after that night you don't mind Chan saving you, you very much like his protection.

[sydwritess]

Mad max

Max verstappen x fem!reader

Summary: You were at home enjoying the peace and quiet before Max got home. When Max eventually came home, he was angrier than ever, accusing you of cheating on him from a photo someone had shown him.

Second Person pov

Warning: Swearing, Max being a bitch

Today was a long day for you. Max was at the circuit, working before the races start. While you were walking around Monaco with your cousin.

"Ugh, I can't believe you made us walk. It's blazing out here." He said, fanning himself with his hand.

"That's what I like about Monaco. Everything is close." You say.

"Do you remember what we used to do as kids, walking down the street?" He asked randomly.

"Oh my God yes!" You say excitedly. He grabbed your hand and we skipped down the sidewalk like we used to. Bobbing our heads around, skipping everywhere.

"Oh my god. That is tiering." He said, letting go of your hand.

"You can't do much of anything before getting tired." You say, laughing at him.

"Okay girl, I see how it is." He said pretending to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

We made it back to you apartment complex in a quick matter of time.

"Wow, this is fancy! I see how you are Miss. Girl." He said, looking all around the lobby before getting into the elevator.

All you could do is laugh at him. You hit the 16th floor button, the elevator closes slowly and you make your way up to your floor.

The elevator dings, signaling that you've reached your floor. We both get out of the elevator, and silently make your way down the hall to your apartment, unlocking the door and stepping in to the cooled down room.

"This feels so nice." Your cousin said, plopping down on the couch.

"I forgot you have never seen this place." You say, walking into the kitchen.

You open the refrigerator door. "Do you want anything to drink?" You ask.

"Water. Please." He answered. You grab two waters and go back into the living room, sitting down next to him.

"Are you coming back to visit?" You ask.

"Yes. Well I have a lot to catch up on when I fly back home, but I will plan our next trip." He say with a smile.

"You definitely should." You say.

We both sat on the couch, watching the sun slowly start to set beyond the ocean.

"Alright. I better get going." He says, standing up from the couch.

"It was great seeing you again." You say, standing up and giving him a hug.

"I know, it was great seeing you. I will come back later tonight before I leave. I will also bring Gabriel with me." He says.

"That sounds great. Thank you, again." You say, walking to the door with him. We both say our goodbyes and he walks out.

After he leaves, you decide to go into the kitchen and start dinner. You were chopping vegetables, and prepared some chicken for the main plate.

Once you had everything prepared, you walk back into the living room and sit on the couch, flipping through the TV channels to find something good to watch.

"Jesus. There's like nothing to watch." You mutter to yourself.

You shut the TV off, and get up off of the couch, walking to the balcony that was connected to the living room.

You gently push the sliding glass door open, walk outside and sit in one of the chairs that was out there, taking in what was left of the sunset.

You were looking down at where the ocean and sky meet, taking everything in when you hear your phone ring.

'Had such a fun time today. Gabriel and I will come over tonight before we leave.' Your cousin texts.

'Awesome. I'm glad you had fun, can't wait.' You type back, putting your phone down.

You were about to lean your head back, looking back out when you heard rustling around in the kitchen. You quickly snap your head around, looking into the apartment to see Max.

"Hey. Didn't know you'd be back this early." You said, walking into the kitchen.

"So did I." Max said, looking in the fridge for something.

"You okay?" You ask.

"Yup. Just... a long day."

You thought nothing of it as he has had many stressful days before, so you walk into the living room, sitting down on the couch again.

Soon after, Max had walked into the living room. You moved your feet off of the cushion next to you so he could sit next to you, but he didn't. He sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room, taking a sip of his drink as he was sitting down.

You look at him confused. "Are you all set for the race tomorrow?"

"Yeah." He says, looking down at the ground, then back up at you.

"I don't think you should come tomorrow." He says.

"What? Why?"

"You just... don't need to be there." He says bluntly. You were taken back at the statement.

"I- what is wrong with you? Did you have a shitty day or something?" You ask.

He looks at me and shrugs. "Did you have a shitty day?" He repeats.

"No."

"Really. What did you do?"

"I... hung out with my cousin."

"Really. Where?"

"The mall." You say slowly. He nods, but not a nod of approval. He get's up from the chair he was in and walks into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"What the hell?" You whisper.

Suddenly he comes back out, in new clothes, looking like he was going out.

"I'm going out. Don't wait up for me." He said, walking to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Does it really matter?"

"I'm just asking." You whispered.

"And I'm asking why it fucking matters to you!" He snaps, looking at you. You stand up, looking straight at him.

"What is wrong with you? If I did something, just tell me! Don't yell at me." You say, raising your voice. He shakes his head, letting go of the door handle.

"You thought you could fucking cheat on me and lie about it!" He yells.

"What -" You try to say, all of a sudden, he shoves his phone in your face, showing you a picture of you and a guy holding hands on the street. That guy being your cousin.

"He-"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? How could you fucking do this?"

"I didn't do anything!" You yell back.

"Of course you didn't! Because your here for you!"

"What the hell does that even mean?" You say, tears filling your eyes, your voice getting shakey.

"I should have fucking known since the day I met you. I thought you were the one for me but you fucking threw it around! You threw us away!" He yells, stepping closer to you. You backed up, getting closer to the living room wall.

"I didn't do anything. That's my-"

"Yeah your fucking boyfriend! What, I wasn't there enough for so you had to go out with someone new!"

"No I didn't-"

"Yes you did! I have the fucking proof right here! Don't fucking lie to me!" He said, moving closer and closer to you. Your now fully against the wall. Trapped.

"Will you just let me-"

"I can't believe you! How could you fucking do this to me!" He says, slamming a hand against the wall, near your head.

Your breath was caught in your throat, tears falling down your cheeks.

"Hey guys." A voice said form the front door. You turn to see your cousin there. You suddenly let out a breath that you held within you.

"Schat-" He tries to say, your went to your cousin's side.

"I just came to say goodbye. Everything okay?" Your cousin asks.

"What, he comes to your rescue now?" Max says, pointing to your cousin.

"Babe, is everything okay?" A voice outside the hall was heard. Just then Gabriel said, walking in the doorway.

"Babe?" Max questions.

"He's my boyfriend." Your cousin says.

"Anyway. We have to leave. Are you okay?" Your cousin asks, turning to you.

"I'm okay. Just uh- get home safe." You whisper. He nods, hugging you.

"Did he hurt you?" He whispers.

"No."

"Good. Please call me. I'll let you figure this out." He says, pulling away form the hug.

"I will. Just have a good flight." You say. He nods before walking out with Gabriel, shutting the door behind him.

"Y/n-" Max starts.

You put a hand up "No. Just... no." You say, walking into your bedroom, shutting and locking the door. You slid down against the door, hugging your knee's as you cry into them silently.

Your thoughts rushing, one after another. Not being able to process what just happened.

You sit in your room for hours. Not debating on going back out there. On hearing a shitty apology. On all of it. You slowly make your way to your bed, curling up in it and crying to yourself. Thinking of everything.

You couldn't fall asleep. Your body wouldn't let you. You turn over to get your phone off of the nightstand. Looking at it as it says 10:30 p.m.

You have a feeling that Max might have left. So you slowly get up, and go out of your room, walking down the hallway.

When you reach the main room, you see Max sitting in a chair in the living room, not TV on, no phone. Just starring at the wall. You quietly walk into the kitchen, avoiding his attention to grab something to eat.

You look in the cabinet's, grabbing your snack. You turn around to see Max standing there behind you, distanced. Your breath hitched. Your mind filling with fear.

"I just want to talk." He says gently, taking a step towards you. You step back. The incident from before appearing in your head.

He see's your movement, and steps back again.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He said, putting his hand in the air. Your still silent.

"I just... I'm sorry. Really sorry."

You shake your head, not giving in yet.

"I should have let you talk. Or I shouldn't have made the assumption." He said. Tears began to brim your eyes.

"You almost hit me." You say, voice weak.

"I know. I know, but I didn't mean to... hit the wall." He said slowly.

"But you almost hit me."

"I'm sorry." He says. You shake your head again. 'I also should have realized he's your cousin, seeing how you two look alike. You were right. I did have a bad day and, after seeing that. I just, got even more pissed." He says.

"Yeah." You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I- I can leave if you want." He says quietly. You go silent again.

"You should've at least asked."

"I know. You know me, I don't fly of the hook like that."

"Yeah."

"Can we please work this out?" He asks. The room went silent again. You look at him slowly, seeing the sorrow behind his eyes.

"Yeah... I guess." You say, walking over to him. He immediately wraps his arms around you. Hugging you tightly.

"Don't hurt me." You say quietly, tears falling over your cheeks.

"I would never. I'm so sorry." He says.

"Promise?"

"Promise." He says, kissing the top of your head. You burry your head into his shoulder, the tears flowing like a river.

"I'm really sorry. I truly am." He says quietly.

"I know." You whisper. Staying like that for what felt like forever.

Hey loves! Hope you like this one! A bit different from what I write but where's the fun if you don't write different things? Comment to be added to the tag list!

[onlyquinns]

OFF SEASON, q. hughes

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

cw: mention of drinking, creepy guy tryna hit on reader, fighting, some light swearing

you jump up and down in the club, dancing wildly with your girl friends. quinn watches you from afar, talking with some of his buddies and nursing a beer. it’s finally the off season, meaning he’s got more time to spend with you, but he’s still iffy on the alcohol, only pretending to sip from the lukewarm beverage so that you can chug it down later.

he’s mid sentence when your movement catches his eye. you’re leaning into your friend, shouting something over the loud ear-ringing music to one of your friends. guys loitering around ogle at you and your friends, staring at the short hemlines of your dresses and your deep cut necklines. quinn glowers, prepared to throw hands in the event someone tries anything—with you and your friends.

you prance away to get yourself a drink, tossing long hair over your shoulder. you don’t make your way to quinn, instead choosing to go to the other end of the bar—the closest to you and your friends—and order a drink. quinn apologizes to his friend for a second, calling over the bartender to let him know that the pretty girl at the end is paid for and to let you in on his tab.

quinn’s about ready to jump back into his conversation with his friend, turning in his barstool to set his attention on whoever’s talking, but freezes mid-turn. within the second he’d stopped watching you, some bald-headed man had made himself comfortable next to you, leaning too close into you and talking with a jeering smile.

“uh, excuse me,” quinn grunts, siding off his seat.

he sets the beer can down on the table, fingers slamming the bottom of it a bit too hard onto the wood, making foamy liquid splash upward. quinn shrugs off his coat, draping it over the worn leather of the stool, and finally starts making his way over to you.

he shrugs past drunk patrons and dancing adults, muttering apologies as he goes. from the corner of his eye he can see your friends still in the middle of the dance floor, huddled together and wildly waving their arms and swaying their hips. they’re too into their dancing to even notice that you’re uncomfortable, set back from returning to them by an uninvited guest.

“c’mon, just let me buy you a drink,” the guy says in your face, eyes drawn to your cleavage. you cover yourself up with your hands, glossy bottom lip wobbling. “i won’t hurt’cha, sweetheart.”

quinn glares at the guy as he approaches you, taking you in his arms and pushing you behind him. “she’s already got someone to buy her drinks,” he grumbles, brows pinched together and his cool crumbling quickly.

the guy laughs, “c’mon, man,” he says, breath reeking of cheap beer and bad intentions. he stumbles as he leans against the bar. “i’m sure we could share.” he raises his eyebrows at quinn, smirking with drunken confidence.

without thinking, quinn swings. he slams his fist into the dude’s jaw, all of his weight training coming to his aid and causing the guy to hit the sticky club floor. he looks up at quinn with terrified eyes, but he doesn’t back down, alcohol clouding his mind and making him spew bullshit at your boyfriend.

“what, that all you got?” he taunts, grasping at chair legs to pull himself up.

quinn tries to jump on him but you grab his bicep, pulling him away. quinn spits at the man cowering on the floor, vision red as you pull him away.

“better think twice before messing with my girl—any girl, for that matter,” he growls, turning in your hold afterward to wrap a secure and protective arm around your waist.

you pass by your friends and whisper your goodbyes, body trembling as quinn holds you. they barely hear you, but let you leave at the sight of your smeared makeup and your wobbly knees with the promise that they’ll text you later to ask what happened.

“are you okay?” quinn asks when the two of you exit the club.

the smell of cigarette smoke lingers in the air outside, mixing with the scent of sweat and alcohol on your skin. you cringe, feeling dirty.

“i’m okay,” you murmur as quinn guides you to his car. “thank you, q.” you wrap your arms around his center and hold him, rubbing your face into his shirt.

quinn hugs you back, uncaring of your makeup smearing onto his shirt. “of course,” he says, lightly backing you up against the car. he pulls away from the hug first and smiles down at you, hand coming up to trace your jaw and cheek bone. “as long as you’re safe, i’m happy.”

your hands wrap around his neck and tug his head down for a kiss, slotting your lips to quinn’s perfectly. he hums against your mouth, savoring the taste of your cherry lipgloss and the one or two drinks in your system. he settles his arms around your hips and pulls you closer, kissing you in the summer night like he’s got all of the time in the world—because for now he does. it’s the off season.

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Alpha ATEEZ x Assistant Omega Reader

Warnings: omega reader, alpha ateez, scenting, heats, ruts, slow burn, eventual smut, forced command, more to come!

When Y/n accepts a position as assistant to alpha K-pop group ATEEZ, she's prepared with professional skills and scent blockers to hide her omega status. What she's not prepared for is the immediate, inexplicable connection she feels with all eight members—a resonance that defies her careful boundaries.

As Y/n becomes eerily attuned to their needs, her suppressed omega nature begins to emerge: purring for the first time in years, responding to alpha growls, feeling safe in ways she never has before. When a protective incident reveals the depth of the members' attachment to her, Y/n must confront the possibility that what binds them together is something ancient and profound.

Authors note: 😳 You all blew up the fic, lol. I’m glad everyone loves it! Unfortunately though the Taglist is currently closed! I’m so sorry everyone! Thank you for all the reposts and love! Keep leaving comment on your thoughts! I love reading them. 💜

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Masterlist

Chapter 3: First Day

The two weeks following your job acceptance passed in a whirlwind of activity. Between giving notice at your previous job, packing up your belongings, and saying goodbye to your roommates, you'd barely had time to process the magnitude of the change you were about to undertake. Manager Minwoo had been in constant contact, sending over contracts, employee handbooks, and preliminary schedules to help you prepare.

Now, as you stood beside the small moving truck that contained your life's possessions, staring up at the ATEEZ residence, reality finally hit you. This was happening. Today, you were officially starting as their assistant, and this beautiful property was about to become your home.

You reached up to check your scent blocker patch, a gesture that had become almost ritualistic in its frequency over the past two weeks. Working and living in such close proximity to eight alpha idols meant you couldn't afford even a moment's lapse in concealing your omega status.

Taking a deep breath, you picked up the small box containing your immediate essentials and approached the front gate. Before you could even press the intercom button, the gate swung open, revealing Kim Hongjoong waiting on the other side.

"I saw the truck pull up," he explained with a warm smile that made your heart skip. "Welcome to your new home, Y/n."

Hongjoong had been watching the driveway periodically all morning, trying not to seem overeager about your arrival. When he finally spotted the moving truck turning into their street, he'd immediately headed downstairs, ignoring Wooyoung's knowing smirk and San's amused comment about "eager alphas."

Now, seeing you standing there with a box in your arms and nervous anticipation written across your face, Hongjoong felt that same inexplicable pull he'd experienced during your interview. There was something about your presence that resonated with him on a deeply instinctive level—something his alpha senses recognized even without being able to detect your scent.

"Let me help you with that," he offered, reaching for the box in your arms.

"Oh, thank you," you replied, relinquishing it with a grateful smile. "It's not too heavy, just some essentials I wanted to keep with me."

Hongjoong noticed the way you unconsciously touched the spot behind your ear—where a scent blocker patch would typically be placed. He understood the precaution; many industry professionals, regardless of their status, wore blockers to maintain privacy and professionalism. Still, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity about what your natural scent might be.

"The others are inside," he said, leading you toward the house. "Fair warning: they're a bit excited about your arrival."

Your stomach fluttered with nervous energy at Hongjoong's words. During your interview, you'd only met three of the eight members. The prospect of meeting the remaining five—all alphas with strong personalities according to everything you'd read and watched about them—was both exciting and intimidating.

"I'm looking forward to meeting everyone," you said, trying to project confidence despite your nerves. "I hope I can live up to expectations."

Hongjoong glanced at you, his expression softening. "Just be yourself. That's what impressed us in the first place."

Before you could respond, the front door of the main house flew open, and Wooyoung burst out, his face lit up with enthusiasm.

"She's here!" he called over his shoulder before bounding down the steps toward you. "Welcome, Y/n! We've been counting down the days!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his exuberance. "Thank you. It's good to see you again, Wooyoung-ssi."

"Just Wooyoung, please," he insisted, falling into step beside you. "We're going to be seeing way too much of each other for formalities."

Inside the house, the remaining members had gathered in the living room, curiosity drawing them together to meet the new assistant who had made such an impression on Hongjoong, San, and Wooyoung. Seonghwa had insisted on cleaning the entire common area that morning, despite their housekeeper having done so just the day before.

"You're fussing," Yeosang had commented quietly, watching Seonghwa rearrange the throw pillows for the third time.

"I'm ensuring we make a good first impression," Seonghwa corrected him, though he couldn't fully explain the strange sense of anticipation he felt. The way Hongjoong and the others had described their immediate connection to you had piqued his interest. Such reactions were typically scent-driven for alphas, yet they'd been clear that you wore blockers.

Now, hearing Wooyoung's excited exclamation from outside, Seonghwa straightened, smoothing down his sweater and assuming the composed posture that had earned him the nickname of "pack mom" among the members.

The front door opened, and all eyes turned to see Hongjoong enter, carrying a box, with you and Wooyoung close behind.

You stepped into the living room and immediately felt the weight of seven pairs of eyes focused intently on you. Despite having seen each of these men countless times in videos and photos, being in their presence was an entirely different experience. The collective alpha energy in the room was palpable, creating an atmosphere that would have been overwhelming if not for the genuine warmth in their expressions.

"Everyone," Hongjoong said, placing your box on a nearby table, "this is Y/n L/n, our new assistant. Y/n, you've already met San and Wooyoung, but let me introduce you to the rest of the team."

One by one, he indicated each member. "Seonghwa, our eldest." A tall, strikingly handsome man with gentle eyes nodded politely. "Yunho." A sunshine smile from the tallest member. "Yeosang." A slight nod from a man with delicate features that belied his alpha status. "Mingi." An enthusiastic wave from a member with a deep voice. "And Jongho, our youngest." The final member, compact but radiating strength, offered a respectful bow.

"It's an honor to meet all of you," you said, bowing formally despite Wooyoung's earlier dismissal of formalities. "I'm looking forward to working with you and supporting your schedules and activities."

Seonghwa found himself unable to look away from you. The moment you'd walked into the room, something had shifted in the atmosphere—a subtle change that his alpha senses detected immediately. Despite not being able to catch your scent through the blockers you wore, he felt an inexplicable draw toward your presence. It was unlike anything he'd experienced before, a strange mixture of protectiveness and recognition that made no logical sense.

Beside him, he could sense similar reactions from the other members who hadn't met you yet. Yunho was practically vibrating with friendly energy, while even the typically reserved Yeosang seemed unusually attentive. Jongho's posture had subtly straightened, his eyes tracking your movements with curious intensity.

"We're glad to have you join us," Seonghwa said, stepping forward to properly welcome you. "I hope the guys didn't overwhelm you during your interview."

"Not at all," you replied with a warm smile that sent an unexpected wave of satisfaction through him. "Everyone has been very welcoming."

There was something in your voice, a gentle confidence that immediately put him at ease while simultaneously intriguing him. Now he understood what Hongjoong had tried to explain—there was indeed something special about your presence that transcended typical first impressions.

You found yourself particularly drawn to Seonghwa's calm, composed aura. Where Wooyoung radiated chaotic energy and Hongjoong exuded leadership, Seonghwa projected a nurturing stability that immediately made you feel at ease despite the intimidating circumstances.

"We've prepared a welcome lunch," Seonghwa continued, gesturing toward what you assumed was the direction of the kitchen. "But perhaps you'd like to see the guesthouse first and get settled a bit?"

"That's very thoughtful, thank you," you replied gratefully. The prospect of having a moment to collect yourself before diving into social interaction was appealing. "I would appreciate a few minutes to bring in some essentials."

Yunho immediately stepped forward. "We can help with your moving truck," he offered with an easy smile. "Between the eight of us, we should make quick work of it."

"Oh, you really don't have to—" you began, but were quickly interrupted by multiple voices insisting they wanted to help.

"Consider it part of our welcome," Jongho said, speaking for the first time. His voice was unexpectedly gentle coming from someone with such a strong physical presence.

"Eight alphas with nothing better to do on a Sunday," Mingi added with a grin. "Either we help you move, or Wooyoung convinces us to try another one of his 'genius' prank ideas."

"Hey!" Wooyoung protested, though there was no real offense in his tone.

You couldn't help but laugh, already feeling the tension in your shoulders beginning to ease. "Well, when you put it that way, I'd be grateful for the help."

The next hour passed in a flurry of activity as all eight ATEEZ members helped transport your belongings from the truck to the guesthouse. What should have been a simple moving process quickly evolved into something resembling organized chaos, with good-natured bickering over who would carry what and Seonghwa's increasingly exasperated attempts to direct traffic.

San found himself volunteering for multiple trips, drawn by the opportunity to learn more about you through your possessions. The small collection of books—a mix of business references, fantasy novels, and memoirs—spoke of a curious, multifaceted mind. The carefully packed box of houseplants suggested nurturing tendencies. Each item offered a glimpse into who you were beyond the professional facade.

"You have good taste in music," he commented, noticing your vinyl collection as he placed it carefully on the shelf you'd indicated. "I love this album too."

"Really?" you replied, lighting up with genuine pleasure at the shared interest. "It's one of my favorites. The composition is so layered—you discover something new every time you listen."

San felt a warm satisfaction at having found this connection with you. "Exactly! That's what I always tell Wooyoung, but he doesn't have the patience to listen to anything more than twice."

Your laugh in response sent an unexpected wave of pleasure through him—a reaction so visceral it momentarily caught him off guard.

You were both surprised and touched by how thoughtfully the members handled your belongings. Jongho carefully carried your boxes marked "fragile" as if they contained priceless artifacts rather than simply kitchen dishes. Yeosang, despite his quiet demeanor, took charge of organizing your books and music collection with surprising attention to detail. Mingi enthusiastically placed your plants around the living area, declaring they "improved the energy" of the space.

Even more surprising was how quickly you felt at ease in their presence. Despite being surrounded by eight alpha idols, you found yourself laughing at Wooyoung and San's playful banter, gratefully accepting Seonghwa's practical suggestions for furniture arrangement, and appreciating Hongjoong's careful respect of your space and preferences.

"Where would you like this?" Hongjoong asked, holding up a framed photo of you with who he assumed were your parents.

"On the side table, please," you replied, watching as he placed it carefully on the surface, angling it slightly before stepping back.

"Your parents?" he inquired with gentle curiosity.

You nodded, a fond smile crossing your face. "Yes. They live in Busan now. They're both teachers."

There was something warm in Hongjoong's expression as he regarded the photo. "You have your mother's smile."

The personal observation, delivered with such quiet sincerity, sent an unexpected flutter through your chest. "Thank you. That's what everyone says."

By early afternoon, the moving truck was empty, and your belongings were distributed throughout the guesthouse. What would have taken you the entire day to accomplish on your own had been completed in just over an hour with the enthusiastic help of all eight members.

"I can't thank you all enough," you said sincerely, looking around at your new space, already beginning to feel like home. "You've made this so much easier than I expected."

"That's what pack—I mean, that's what teammates do," Yunho quickly corrected himself, though the slip didn't go unnoticed by the others. There was a moment of awkward silence before Seonghwa smoothly changed the subject.

"The welcome lunch should be ready now," he said. "Unless you'd prefer some time alone to settle in?"

You considered the offer. While part of you did want to begin unpacking and organizing your new space, the genuine warmth and welcome you'd received made you reluctant to cut short this initial bonding time. "Lunch sounds wonderful, thank you."

"Excellent," Seonghwa said with a satisfied smile. "I prepared japchae and bulgogi—I hope that's alright?"

"You cooked?" you asked, both surprised and touched by the gesture.

"Seonghwa-hyung always cooks for special occasions," Jongho explained with a hint of pride in his voice. "And new pack members definitely qualify as special."

"Team members," Hongjoong corrected firmly, giving Jongho a pointed look that made you wonder about the significance of the distinction.

The main house's dining area was impressive—a large table that comfortably seated ten, with expansive windows overlooking the garden. As you took your seat between Yunho and Yeosang, you couldn't help but feel a surreal sense of displacement. Just two weeks ago, you'd been having ramen in your tiny apartment with your roommates. Now, you were sitting at a table with ATEEZ, about to share a meal that Seonghwa had prepared specially to welcome you.

"I should warn you," Yunho said in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning slightly toward you, "once you taste Seonghwa-hyung's cooking, the company cafeteria will never satisfy you again."

You laughed softly. "I'll consider myself warned."

As Seonghwa and Hongjoong brought out the food—far more dishes than you'd expected—the atmosphere around the table was relaxed and welcoming. The members fell into a natural rhythm of conversation, effortlessly including you without making you feel put on the spot.

"So, Y/n," Mingi asked as he passed you a dish, "what made you want to work in the entertainment industry? Specifically with idols?"

Hongjoong found himself particularly interested in your answer to Mingi's question. He'd reviewed your resume thoroughly, noted your previous experience, but the "why" behind your career choices hadn't been something they'd explored deeply in the interview.

He watched as you considered the question thoughtfully before answering, struck by how naturally you fit at their table despite having just met most of them today.

"I've always been drawn to creative environments," you explained, accepting the dish from Mingi with a grateful nod. "There's an energy in the entertainment industry that you don't find anywhere else—this blend of artistic expression and structured business that creates something meaningful."

You paused, wondering how much to reveal. "As for working with idols specifically... I admire the dedication it takes to succeed in this industry. The training, the performances, the constant growth and reinvention. Being able to support that process, even in an administrative capacity, feels fulfilling to me."

Yeosang, who had been quietly observant until now, spoke up. "That's a thoughtful answer. Most people just say they want to be close to celebrities."

You laughed softly. "Well, I won't pretend the opportunity to work with artists I respect isn't exciting. But it's the behind-the-scenes work that actually interests me the most—helping create the structure that allows creativity to flourish."

Hongjoong nodded, a look of approval crossing his face. "That's exactly what we need—someone who understands both sides of the equation."

As the meal progressed, you found yourself relaxing more and more in their company. Despite being surrounded by alpha idols, you felt neither intimidated nor out of place. There was something about their dynamic—the way they interacted with each other and with you—that created a sense of belonging you hadn't anticipated feeling so quickly.

Wooyoung kept you laughing with dramatic stories of their trainee days. Yunho shared his enthusiasm for an online game you also happened to enjoy. Jongho impressed you with his thoughtful questions about your previous work experience. Even the quieter Yeosang offered occasional comments that revealed a sharp wit beneath his reserved exterior.

Throughout it all, you were acutely aware of Hongjoong's attentive presence at the head of the table. Though he didn't dominate the conversation, his subtle guidance of the discussion and the way the others naturally deferred to him in certain moments spoke volumes about his leadership style.

Seonghwa, too, commanded your attention in a different way—his nurturing energy evident in how he ensured everyone's plates and glasses were filled, how he gently steered the conversation when it veered toward topics that might make you uncomfortable as a newcomer.

Seonghwa couldn't explain the satisfaction he felt watching you enjoy the food he'd prepared. Each appreciative comment or pleased expression sent a wave of alpha contentment through him—a primal response to providing for... for what? You weren't pack, weren't family, weren't anything beyond their new employee. And yet, his instincts were responding as if you were something more.

He caught Hongjoong's eye across the table and recognized the same confusing mix of emotions reflected there. Something unspoken passed between them—an acknowledgment that whatever this strange pull was, they both felt it.

"I hope the guesthouse has everything you need," Seonghwa said, turning his attention back to you. "If there's anything missing or anything you'd like changed, please don't hesitate to let us know."

"It's perfect," you assured him with a warm smile that sent another inexplicable wave of pleasure through him. "More than perfect, actually. I still can't believe I get to live there."

"You even have a good view of the pool," San commented with a grin. "You should see how the sunlight hits the water in the late afternoon—it's beautiful."

"Maybe we should have a welcome pool party," Wooyoung suggested enthusiastically.

"We’re in the middle of preparing for a comeback and tour," Jongho pointed out. "Plus it’s barley summer.” 

"Details, details," Wooyoung dismissed with a wave of his hand. "We have a heater for it."

You laughed, the sound light and melodic. "That sounds lovely Wooyoung. I’m not much of a swimmer though, more of a sunbather.” 

"I could teach you," both San and Wooyoung offered simultaneously, then turned to glare at each other as Seonghwa rolled his eyes.

---

After lunch, Hongjoong suggested showing you the office where you'd be primarily working. The others dispersed to various parts of the house, though not without Wooyoung extracting a promise that you'd join them for movie night later if you weren't too tired from moving.

"Don't feel obligated," Hongjoong told you quietly as he led you toward the office. "Wooyoung can be... enthusiastic. But everyone understands if you need time to settle in."

"I appreciate that," you replied, touched by his consideration. "But I think I'd like to join, if that's alright. It seems like a good way to get to know everyone better."

Hongjoong smiled, a glint of approval in his eyes. "It is. Just be prepared—movie selection can get competitive around here."

The office, which you'd briefly seen during your interview, had been thoroughly prepared for your arrival. Someone had placed a small vase of fresh flowers beside the computer.

"Seonghwa's touch," Hongjoong explained, noticing your gaze on the flowers. "He thought it would make the space feel more welcoming."

"That was very thoughtful of him," you said, genuinely moved by the gesture.

Hongjoong showed you the filing system, the scheduling software, and the various communication channels used by the team. Though you'd received preliminary information from Manager Minwoo, having Hongjoong walk you through everything personally made the overwhelming amount of information seem more manageable.

"Your first official day is tomorrow," he reminded you. "Today is just for getting settled. But I thought you might want to see where everything is located."

"I appreciate that," you said gratefully. "It helps to get oriented before diving in."

Hongjoong hesitated, then added, "I've scheduled the first few days to be more training than execution. You'll shadow Manager Minwoo tomorrow, and then gradually take over responsibilities as you become comfortable with them."

The consideration in his planning touched you. "Thank you. That sounds perfect."

---

As evening approached, you took some time alone in the guesthouse to unpack essentials and freshen up before the movie night. You'd just finished arranging your toiletries in the bathroom when there was a knock at your door.

Opening it, you found Seonghwa standing there with a small basket in his hands.

"I thought you might not have had time to go grocery shopping yet," he explained, holding out the basket which contained fresh fruit, some snacks, a carton of milk, and a few other breakfast essentials. "Just to tide you over until you can stock your kitchen properly."

The thoughtful gesture caught you off guard. "That's so kind of you, Seonghwa-ssi. Thank you."

"Just Seonghwa is fine," he said with a gentle smile. "And it's no trouble. I remember how chaotic my first day moving in was."

As you accepted the basket, your fingers briefly brushed against his. Despite the scent blocker preventing any pheromone detection, you felt a strange electric sensation at the contact—a momentary connection that seemed to surprise Seonghwa as much as it did you, judging by the slight widening of his eyes.

He recovered quickly, however. "Movie night starts in about thirty minutes in the main living room, if you're still planning to join us."

"I'll be there," you promised, still feeling slightly off-balance from whatever had just passed between you.

With a polite nod, Seonghwa turned to leave, then paused. "Y/n," he said, turning back slightly. "I'm glad you're here. I think you're going to be good for the team."

Before you could respond, he continued on his way, leaving you standing in the doorway with the basket in your hands and a strange warmth spreading through your chest.

The main living room had been transformed for movie night. The large sectional sofa was now covered in blankets and pillows, with additional cushions arranged on the floor. The impressive entertainment system was queued up, and various snacks and drinks covered the coffee table.

"Y/nnie!" Wooyoung exclaimed when you entered, patting the space beside him. "We saved you a seat."

"Don't feel obligated," Yeosang said quietly from a nearby armchair. "There are other options if you prefer."

You smiled at the consideration, opting for a spot on the sofa between Yunho and Hongjoong—close enough to be sociable but not directly next to the exuberant Wooyoung, who pouted briefly before bouncing back.

"We're still debating the movie," Hongjoong explained as you settled in. "It's between an action thriller Mingi wants to see and a new fantasy film Yunho's been recommending."

"What about you?" San asked, genuinely curious about your preference. "Any vote to break the tie?"

You considered for a moment. "I'm fine with either, but I do enjoy fantasy if it's well done."

Yunho pumped his fist in victory while Mingi groaned dramatically. "Next time, we're watching my pick," he insisted, though there was no real frustration in his tone.

As the movie began, you couldn't help but marvel at how quickly you'd been included in their ritual, as if you'd always been a part of it. The easy camaraderie, the playful bickering over snacks, the comfortable silence that fell as everyone became engrossed in the story—it all felt surprisingly natural.

Halfway through the film, you became aware of a subtle warmth beside you. Hongjoong had shifted slightly closer, though still maintaining a respectful distance. There was something comforting about his proximity—a sense of security that made you sink a little deeper into the couch, your tension from the busy day finally beginning to dissipate.

Across the room, Seonghwa watched this development with thoughtful eyes, noting the way Hongjoong's typically alert posture had relaxed in your presence. Something was definitely happening here—something none of them fully understood yet, but that all of them seemed to be feeling in their own ways.

As the movie reached its climax, you stifled a yawn, the exhaustion of moving day finally catching up with you. Hongjoong noticed immediately.

"You've had a long day," he said quietly, his voice pitched so only you could hear. "Feel free to head back to the guesthouse whenever you need to. No one will be offended."

The consideration in his words warmed you. "Thank you. I think I'll stay until the end, though. I'm enjoying the film."

What you didn't say was that you were also enjoying the company—this unexpected sense of belonging that had developed over the course of a single day. Despite the challenges that surely lay ahead—maintaining professional boundaries, keeping your omega status concealed, navigating the complex dynamics of eight alpha personalities—in this moment, you felt that you'd made the right decision in accepting this position.

As the credits rolled on the movie, you stifled another yawn, the exhaustion of moving day finally catching up with you. Though you were enjoying the company, your eyelids had grown increasingly heavy throughout the last thirty minutes of the film.

"I think I should call it a night," you said, reluctantly rising from your comfortable spot on the sofa. "Thank you all for such a warm welcome today. I really appreciate everything you've done to help me settle in."

"It was our pleasure," Seonghwa responded with a gentle smile. "Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day."

"Do you want someone to walk you back to the guesthouse?" San offered immediately, already half-rising from his seat.

You smiled but shook your head. "That's very kind, but it's just across the garden. I'll be fine."

"The path lights are on a timer," Hongjoong informed you. "They should stay lit until you're inside. If you need anything at all during the night, don't hesitate to call or text any of us."

The protectiveness in his tone sent a small flutter through your chest. "Thank you. Goodnight, everyone."

A chorus of "goodnight" and "sleep well" followed you as you made your way to the door. You could feel multiple pairs of eyes on your back as you departed, but it didn't feel uncomfortable—just attentive in a way you weren't quite used to yet.

The night air was cool against your skin as you walked the short path back to the guesthouse. True to Hongjoong's word, the garden lights illuminated your way, casting a gentle glow that transformed the landscape into something almost magical. In the distance, the Seoul skyline twinkled, a reminder of the city beyond this peaceful oasis.

Once inside your new home, you went through your nighttime routine on autopilot, too tired to unpack anything beyond the essentials. As you carefully removed your scent blocker patch and cleaned the area behind your ear, you couldn't help but reflect on the day's events.

Eight alphas had welcomed you into their space with a warmth and ease that defied your expectations. Despite your precautions, despite your carefully maintained professional boundaries, something about being with them had felt inexplicably right. There was a connection there that you couldn't explain—something that went beyond the typical dynamics of a workplace relationship.

"Don't read too much into it," you murmured to yourself as you applied a fresh blocker patch. "They're just being nice to their new assistant."

But as you finally slipped into bed, your last conscious thought was that there seemed to be something more at play—something neither you nor they fully understood yet.

---

Back in the main house, the eight members of ATEEZ remained in the living room long after you had departed. An unusual silence had fallen over the group, each lost in their own thoughts about the newest addition to their household.

Hongjoong was the first to speak, his voice thoughtful. "So... what does everyone think of Y/n?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before Wooyoung broke into a wide grin. "I told you all she was special! Did you see how quickly she fit in? It's like she's always been here."

San nodded in agreement. "There's something about her... I can't explain it. When she's in the room, I just feel more... I don't know, centered?"

"I noticed that too," Yunho admitted, looking slightly confused by his own reaction. "I only met her today, but I already feel this weird need to make sure she's comfortable and happy. Is that strange?"

Jongho, typically the most reserved of the group when it came to expressing feelings, shifted in his seat. "It's not just you. I felt it too. There's something... familiar about her presence."

Yeosang, who had been quietly observing as usual, leaned forward. "It's unusual for all of us to have such a similar reaction to someone, especially when we can't detect her scent through the blockers." His brow furrowed slightly. "Has anyone else noticed that we're responding to her almost as if..."

"As if she's pack," Seonghwa finished for him, voicing what several of them had been thinking but hesitant to say aloud. "Even though she's just our assistant."

Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair, processing the implications of what they were all describing. "I felt it during her interview. That's why I was so certain she was the right choice, even beyond her qualifications. Something about her just... resonates."

"I'm in love," Mingi declared dramatically, flopping backward onto the couch and throwing an arm over his face. "I'm completely, utterly in love."

Wooyoung pointed at him triumphantly. "See! That's exactly what I said two weeks ago! And you all thought I was exaggerating!"

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, though there was no real annoyance in the gesture. "You're both being ridiculous. You barely know her."

"And yet," Mingi countered, sitting up to look at Seonghwa directly, "you can't deny you feel it too. I saw how attentive you were at dinner, hyung. You barely took your eyes off her."

A faint flush colored Seonghwa's cheeks. "I was being a good host," he defended, though his tone lacked conviction. After a moment, he sighed. "Fine. Yes, there's... something. I don't know what it is, but I felt it the moment she walked in."

"Do you think she's an omega?" Jongho suggested thoughtfully. "Maybe her blockers aren't completely effective, and we're picking up subtle cues?"

San shook his head. "Those high-grade blockers are pretty effective. Besides, we've been around plenty of omegas before and never had this kind of collective response."

"What about a beta?" Yunho offered.

"Same issue," Hongjoong said, his brow furrowed in concentration. "We've never reacted this way to anyone, regardless of their status."

Yeosang, who had been quietly contemplative, finally spoke up. "There's another theory...fated mate to the pack."

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to him.

"Fated mates..to the pack? That’s just stories," Wooyoung objected, though he seemed more intrigued than dismissive. "Fairy tales parents tell pups."

"Most legends have some basis in reality," Yeosang countered.

"But fated mates are rare," Jongho pointed out. "And usually, it's between two people, not... eight and one."

Seonghwa's expression became thoughtful. "There are some historical accounts of pack fated mates—one individual destined to bond with an entire pack rather than a single alpha or omega."

Hongjoong's eyes widened slightly before he shook his head dismissively. "Let's not get carried away here. Pack fated mate? We just met her. This is just the excitement of meeting someone new who happens to be competent, professional, and..." he hesitated, "...beautiful."

"Ooooooh," Wooyoung immediately pounced, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "You think our new assistant is beautiful? How scandalous, Captain!"

Hongjoong glared at him, though a hint of color rose in his cheeks. "Go to bed, Wooyoung."

"But it's only—"

"Now," Hongjoong insisted, pointing dramatically toward the hallway, though there was no real heat behind the command.

Wooyoung's grin only widened. "You didn't deny it."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. "She is objectively attractive. That's not the point. The point is that we're all getting ahead of ourselves with these fated mate theories when the simplest explanation is that we've found an assistant who fits well with our team dynamics."

"Then why did we all feel it so strongly?" San asked, genuinely curious. "I've never had that kind of immediate connection with anyone before."

"Nor have I," Yeosang added quietly.

Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I felt it too. I'm not denying that there's... something. I just think we need to be rational about this. Fated mate to a pack is the stuff of legends, and we're talking about real life here."

Yunho frowned slightly. "Should we ask her if she is feeling the same thing?"

"Absolutely not," Hongjoong said firmly, shifting into his leader role. "First of all, we don't know what this is exactly. And second, she just started working with us today. The last thing she needs is eight alphas overwhelming her with intense feelings based on a connection we can't even properly explain ourselves."

Seonghwa nodded in agreement. "Hongjoong's right. Whatever this is, we need to proceed carefully. Y/n is here as our assistant. We need to respect that professional relationship first and foremost."

"So what do we do?" Wooyoung asked, looking uncharacteristically serious. "Just pretend we don't feel anything unusual?"

"No," Hongjoong replied after a moment of consideration. "We acknowledge that there's something special about her presence in our pack—"

"Team," Seonghwa corrected gently. "She's part of our team, not officially pack. Not yet, anyway."

Hongjoong nodded, accepting the correction. "In our team. But we don't pressure her or make her uncomfortable. We give her space to settle into her role, and we observe. There's no need to rush anything."

"What if she doesn't feel it?" Jongho asked quietly, voicing the concern that had begun to form in several of their minds. "What if it's just us?"

Seonghwa's expression softened. "Then we accept that and continue to value her as our assistant and hopefully, our friend. Connection or not, Y/n deserves to be treated with respect and given the freedom to choose her own path."

The others nodded in agreement, though there was a noticeable tension in the air—a mixture of excitement at the possibility and anxiety about the uncertainty.

"For now," Hongjoong concluded, "we focus on making her comfortable in her new role. We support her, we welcome her, but we don't overwhelm her. Agreed?"

Murmurs of agreement came from around the room, though Wooyoung couldn't resist adding, "But I still get to be friendly, right? That's just who I am."

Seonghwa rolled his eyes fondly. "Yes, Wooyoung, you can be friendly. Just don't be... too Wooyoung."

"I don't know what that means, but I'm choosing to be offended," Wooyoung replied with a dramatic pout that quickly dissolved into a grin.

The tension broken, conversation gradually shifted to other topics, though thoughts of you remained at the forefront of each member's mind. Whatever this connection was—whether fated mate bond or simply an unusual team dynamic—it was clear that your arrival had shifted something fundamental in the ATEEZ household.

---

In the guesthouse, you stirred in your sleep, turning onto your side as a strange dream played through your mind:

With purple eyes, you purred as you made a nest in your room made up of hoodies, blankets and pillows. Eight distinct scents surrounded you—sandalwood and ocean breeze, vanilla and cedarwood, citrus and clean linen, light musk and cherry blossoms, cinnamon and dark chocolate, earthy soil and pine, bergamot and ginger, fresh apples and mint—creating a harmonious blend that felt like... home. 

Your eyes shot open as you woke up, your hand immediately going to touch the blocker patch behind your ear to confirm it was still in its place.

You haven’t made a nest or fully purred in years. And you definitely have never had omega eyes as you did it. 

Shaking the dream from your mind, you lay back down to sleep, tomorrow would bring your first official day as ATEEZ's assistant, with all the professional challenges that entailed.

Next>>

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[catssluvr]

jealous, natalie scatorccio

natalie scatorccio x fem!reader (1.5k words) (request)

in which nat’s been spending a lot of time with travis hunting and you get jealous.

warnings: r is a bit of a jerk at first, jealousy, bsfs to lovers, fluff <3

⭑.ᐟ ⭑.ᐟ

You watch from afar as Natalie and Travis prepare to leave for a hunt, the smile on her face that is usually directed to you leaves a burning in your throat, suddenly feeling like it's too hard to breathe.

It's been happening more and more, them being together as you and Natalie stop doing the things you used to do. You can't blame them, there is food that needs to be found and if it weren't for them no one would be alive by now. But you do hate yourself a little for not having been good at using the gun.

It should be you getting to spend time with her, not Travis. Her best friend. Though you aren't naïve enough to believe your feelings for her are completely platonic.

You turn away as you feel the tears burning your eyes, hoping that not looking at them will make you feel better. It doesn't, but it's enough to stop the tears from spilling. You don't know how you'd be able to explain them if anyone saw. You miss the way Nat's smile falters when you don't say goodbye to her.

A hand on your shoulder has you turning back, catching a glimpse of your favorite blonde hair before it disappears into the woods.

"Hey, are you okay?" Van asks, eyebrows pulled together in worry. You think for a second that she might have caught on you, she can't have.

"Yeah, all good, Van." You force a small smile onto your face, cringing at how fake you already know it looks.

"Wanna go catch some berries with me and Tai later?” It’s a hopeful question, you realize.

"No, you guys go. I think i'll just head to the lake and hang there." It's painful to be brushing everyone off like this, but you really crave a moment of peace, alone.

"Okay.. you do know you can talk to us if you're not okay, yeah? I know Nat not being around sucks for you." She says as if testing the waters, not knowing how to approach the matter.

"What makes you think this is about Nat?" Your skin feels hot as you turn defensive, taking a step back.

"So there is something going on." Van presses.

"No." You barely try to lie, hugging your arms to your torso and shrinking in yourself.

"Look, i just thought that-"

"You thought wrong." You spat, walking out into the lake's direction and leaving Van no time to say anything else.

You spend most of your afternoon by the lake, swimming until your fingers are numb from the cold water and then sitting close to the water, lost in thought while throwing rocks.

As soon as you had reached the lake earlier, all of the anger you once felt had dissipated, feeling immediately remorseful for snaping at Van.

Knowing someone else knew about your feelings for Nat could only mean you weren't very good at hiding them and that was a thought that terrified you. With your friendship hanging on a thread, she would hate you for this if she found out.

A part of you really wants to go wait for Natalie on the cabin porch like you always do, but the other tells you it's just going to hurt even more to see her come back with him, the same smile from earlier on her face.

The sound of boots against the pebbles makes you alarmed enough to turn, regret filling you as you see Nat approach you. You turn back towards the lake, taking a steady breath and again failing to notice the way her face falls.

"Hey." Nat says gently, sitting next to you.

"Hi." You avoid her eyes as you greet.

"You weren't at the cabin to greet me back like usual." She states before leaning her head towards you, locking her eyes with yours, "Got worried."

"Just forgot, i guess." You shrug your shoulders, starting to pick at your nails once you hear her let out a big sigh.

"Do want to go for a swim before dinner? A dive sounds good but i don't wanna go alone." Nat bumps her shoulder to yours, smiling in a way that reminds you too much of earlier.

"Actually, i should go help with dinner." You find yourself saying before you can think. "Maybe another day though." You add meekly.

"Alright, are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" She huffs, eyes searching your face for any sign.

"Nothing's going on, Natalie." You answer, regretting the way she flinches at the way you use her whole name.

"Yes, yes there is. Why are you so distant- did i do something?" She pushes and you can't help but feel tempted by her exasperated face and the fact that you caused it.

But you can't just tell her. You're tired, and just as scared as everyone else so you can't afford to lose your best friend because of having feelings for her.

"Nothing's wrong. You're not really around to notice, anyway." You can't really help as it bubbles out of your chest, the bottled up words begging to escape.

"Yeah, maybe cause i'm trying to help us fucking survive." She snaps, getting up in a hurry and starting to walk towards the cabin, but she turns around after a few steps.

"Here, i thought that it would be nice to get these stupid flowers for you." Nat spits sourly before reaching into her bag, throwing the pretty bunch of wilds daisies into your lap.

You stay silent for good moment, hearing her steps fade until they finally they disappear. "Fuck." You whisper to yourself, bringing your hands to your face.

It's only later, after getting ignored by Nat for the whole dinner, that you get the opportunity of a moment alone with her.

She's siting outside on the porch, her back to you but you can see enough to know she's lost in thought. You feel bad to disturb her peace, but the thought of having her ignore you for one more second is eating you up. Though you know you deserve it.

Nat doesn't turn as you open the front door, probably aware that it's you.

"Hey." No answer.

"Nat, i'm so sorry." You say, barely above a whisper as you sit on the steps beside her. She finally turns to look you in the eyes, gulping as she waits for you to continue. God, this is harder than you thought it would be.

"I miss you." You state, "Earlier you asked what's wrong." You add quickly, mentally facepalming at how bad you are at this.

"You miss me so you push me away?" Her expression shows confusion but you feel more and more encouraged to continue because at least she's finally talking to you.

"No! It's just that you've been hanging out with Travis so much that i thought you might not want to do stuff with me anymore." You try not to sound petty but it is quite impossible when that is what's going on.

"That's really godamn stupid." She answers almost too seriously but her voice expresses a smile, you can't help but chuckle with her.

"I know, i've been such a jerk to you. And i am sorry." You reach for her hand, almost flinching at the way it's cold from being outside. You wish you could just warm her hands up whenever you want.

"So... you were jealous of Travis?" Nat teases, lacing her fingers with yours and looking down at your hands with a tiny smile.

"I guess i was. But don't flatter yourself, Scatorccio." There's really no need to try and lie at this point, it's either leaving her confused forever or try to fight for it.

"I wish it was you out there with me, you know?" Her gaze is on yours as she speaks, an honest tone to her words. "I mean you're my best friend but it's more than that. It's different."

Your heart feels like it's going to come of your throat for a second, the hope you had lost long ago slowly coming back up. "Different?"

"I don't really give flowers to Travis." Her smile widens, eyes, flickering to your nose, and then to your lips for a glimpse of a second. She suddenly feels really close, way closer then when you sat down beside her.

"Right, the flowers. They're lovely Nat- i did keep them by the-"

"Shut up." She cuts off your rambling, hands letting go of yours to cup your face tentatively before bringing her lips to yours.

Something warms lights up in your chest, making you still before you bring your hands up to hold the back of her head, fingers deep into her hair blonde hair. Nat hums against your lips, fingers sliding down your arms before finding your waist and settling there.

"That different enough for you?" She practically giggles, nuzzling her nose into your cheek.

"Yeah." You nod, not quite sure what you're answering to while lost in a slightly hazy feeling. Your head drops to her shoulder, a comfortable silence filling the air.

"I might have an apology to give to Van."

[noctiva]

(tumblr’s glitching blah blah blah you get it we’ve been down this road)

anyway this is hot as FUCK. started salivating thinking about it tbfh. LMAOOOOO OKAY

so like walk with me - Toby was probably only really planning on popping in once, grabbing a few mags and then using those as jerk off material for a few months at least. He’s a simple man, he really doesn’t need much, he could beat off to a simple nip slip tbh

but then he sees you behind the counter. young and cute, nothing like the sleazy old man he would’ve expected to be working here. sat behind the counter with your legs kicked up on the desk as you scroll through your phone in boredom, you look like sin. Too fucking sweet to be surrounded by nudie mags and porno dvds. He nearly turns on his heel and fuckin beelines it out of there bc he’s not at all prepared for this - but then you catch his gaze.

So he awkwardly clears his throat, gives you a curt nod and scurries over to the magazine rack with stiff shoulders and his heart in his fucking throat. digging his nails into his palm to dry and suppress a fit of tics but it doesn’t work so he’s left with joints twitching and jerking because he can feel your eyes on him and it’s stressing him the FUCK out lmao. he just came to buy some porn man he didn’t sign up for having to interact with a cute girl!! that’s like so unfair!

doesn’t make eye contact with you the entire time he’s paying, and his hands are shaking so much that he drops all the coins in his wallet and has to pick em all up off the ground while stammering out pathetic little apologizes (so fucking pathetic I want to put him in a blender I love him so much) while you just watch on - pleasantly amused. Because this was a nice change. Most of your customers were gross old men or incels that just ogled your tits the entire time and tried to hit on you. This guy was struggling to even breathe the same air as you right now.

He’s red as a tomato when he finally pays and snatches the magazines from you so quick you can’t even say goodbye before he’s nearly fucking sprinting out of the establishment LOLLLL

Hightails it to his truck, all twitchy and so fucking hot under his collar he barely even gets the door fully closed before he’s slumping into his seat and bringing a hand down to cup the bulge in his jeans. He’s praying you didn’t see it, but he’s been hard since your sweet soft voice asked him if he was ready to check out.

Beats one out obv, bc he’d probably get into a fucking car crash if he didn’t with how fogged up his mind was. One hand stroking his cock, the other one thumbing through the mags he just bought - trying to imagine that all those models were you instead. What you looked like under those clothes of yours, what face you’d make as he all but folded you in half

Ruins one mag by nutting on it mere minutes after buying it lmfao. Good :) An excuse to come back and buy another one :)

He becomes a regular customer. Like way too often lmfao. To the point where you’re wondering how one guy could need so many playboy mags. He never gets better with you, staying as that same twitchy blushing mess that you’d met the first day. He doesn’t talk much, and when he does it’s so quiet you have to strain to hear him. Mumbled out stuttered words, his gaze flicking all over the place as he forces them out. Like being around you was slowly choking him out.

It wasn’t, it was just that being around you made all the blood in his body rush right down to his dick - not leaving much left to power his body to do other things. Like act normal lmfao.

You get curious. Doesn’t help that you think he’s just so cute. A little pervy, obviously, but downright adorable with the way he acted like he’d never spoken to a woman in his life. So you start doing your own imagining. What he gets up to, what kind of place he lives in, how he interacts with other people, what he looked like when he was getting an eyeful of those mags you sold him. You’d bet big money he’d get just as red as when he was with you. All twitchy and gasping for air, face crinkled up with glassy eyes.

It’s a bad idea, but one day you follow him. Going through the motions of the same old routine - greeting him only to get a weak little nod in response, taking the cash out of his shaky fingers, watching him scamper out of the building like he had just committed a crime. You just can’t help yourself. He always looked so eager to leave, and you wanted to know why. Was it just because he was that socially awkward? Or did he have… Other matters to attend to?

You weren’t blind, you’d noticed his hard on quite a few times while cashing him out. You’d just never mentioned it because you were pretty sure he’d pop a major artery and pass the fuck out right in front of you if you did. But you knew. Had seen him not so discreetly trying to adjust his pants while you thumbed through the bills he gave you way slower than you needed to. Just to keep him here longer. Just to make him sweat.

You wait a minute before slipping out of the store behind him. Flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and locking up early. It’s not difficult to spot him, already halfway down the street, speedwalking like a madman towards some old beat up truck. You watch as he unlocks it then slips inside - and through the windshield you can see it when he just absolutely slumps into the seat. His whole body going more relaxed than you’d ever seen him.

You notice his hands reach down, but you can’t see much else. Didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was doing though. And that’s fucking bold. Right here on a public street? In a truck with no tints, no less. It probably should’ve turned you off completely, probably should’ve had you thinking he was a fucking creep you should stay far away from.

…But it didn’t.

It only spurred you on more. Made you into the creep in the situation, watching this guy jerk off in his truck from a few feet away. You don’t even realize you’re moving until you’re finding yourself walking right up to his windowsill - eyes going wide at the sight you’ve found.

One magazine open and abandoned on the passenger’s seat, his pants tugged down just enough to get his cock out. Which, he was furiously stroking like a man on a damn mission. Like he’d burst into flames if he didn’t get his rocks off. Face all scrunched, head tilted back as he gasped for air - precum dribbling down onto his knuckles.

And it’s exactly what you’d been hoping to see.

You don’t really think it through before you knock on his window, maybe you should’ve - because honestly you could’ve fucking killed him. It looks like you shocked him into having a damn stroke. You’d swear his ass left the seat with how violently he jolted. Limbs flailing, eyes straight up bugging out of his skull - looking like he could damn near cry as he hastily tried to shove his still hard cock back into his boxers while staring at you like you’d just killed a man in front of him.

You just giggle softly, and motion for him to roll the window down. This time he nearly does pass out. Because you’re smiling? You’re not disgusted? You just caught him in the middle of absolute depravity and you’re smiling at him??? It takes a few moments for your actions to compute in his head, before he reaches over with his clean hand and rolls the window down like you’d asked.

He’s too stunned he can’t even speak. Can’t even attempt to defend himself.

Good thing you don’t want him toooooooo ;)

“Need help?” You ask him softly, leaning up against the door of his truck, and he’s struggling to breathe. You’re looking at him, lips curved into an intoxicating little smirk, pupils wide as your eyes flicker between his face and the barely covered bulge in his jeans.

He blinks a few times, mouth gaping like a fish out of water because… what? He’s hallucinating right? Did he actually pass out somewhere along the way beforehand, and now he was dreaming? Because there’s just no way. There’s no way you’re offering what he thinks you’re offering.

“..Huh?” He manages to choke out, beginning to feel lightheaded - because he’s just now learning that he hasn’t taken a single breath since you showed up.

“Can’t be fun, gettin’ off like this.” You murmur back out to him, leaning your elbows against his windowsill. “You’ve spent a fortune on those mags. Dont’cha want more?” You meet his eyes for a split second before he’s looking away again. “I could give you more.”

It takes a second, because at first he thinks you’re fucking with him. It sure seems like a joke, having someone as beautiful as you offering up something so lewd. But you don’t laugh, You don’t snicker or point fingers, you just stay as you are - leaned up against his truck, the desire in your gaze so potent it makes his skin itch.

So, he finds himself nodding, almost on autopilot. The throbbing in his jeans making it hard to think rationally. Besides, this was definitely a once in a lifetime experience. If he shooed you away he’s be kicking himself for ages. You were the object of his fantasies after all. You were what he had been cumming to for weeks on end. Not the magazines he was buying. You.

“If… If you’re o-offering.”

That’s all it takes. You’re pulling open the door of his truck so quick it makes him gasp softly, crawling onto his lap even quicker. Sat on top of him, so close he’s breaking into a nervous sweat - his abandoned cock twitching beneath you. And got you can feel him now. So hard, big enough it makes your hips jolt instinctively. You should’ve guessed it. It’s always the quiet ones.

“Shouldn’t you tell me your name?” You ask him softly, hands already going down to where his cock strains against his boxers - tugging him free in an action that makes him let out a hiss through his teeth. You had been right. He’s even cuter like this. “Seen you so many times and you’ve never told me.”

“Toby.” He gasps out, his skin flushes and so hot to the touch as he watches you reach down to pull your own jeans down. Hindered a little by the confined space, but you still get them off - kicking them off of your ankles and throwing them into his backseat. “I-I’m Toby.”

“Toby?” You ask softly, watching him with rapt attending as you bring your hips down, your cunt only covered by your panties, grinding right up against his bare skin. He looks like he could die. “That’s cute. Is it short for somethin’?”

“T-T-“ He can barely even get his lips formed around his own name for fuck’s sake, but you can’t really blame him. None of this feels real. Not your heat, not your touch. Not the slickness of your pussy when you tug your panties to the side. He was sure that any minute now, he be gasping awake in his room - drenched in a cold sweat. “Tobias. It’s sh-short for Tobias.”

“Tobias. I like that.” You grind your bare cunt against his cock, shivering at the feeling of his hardness sliding between your slick folds. “Sounds real formal.”

From there it just progresses and progresses. Almost too fast for Toby to even keep up with, but he’s shocked back to reality real quick when you line him up with your leaking cunt. He can’t help but gasp, teeth gritting so hard he may just crack a tooth and you haven’t even gotten him inside you yet. “This is what you wanted, right Toby?” You ask him softly as you lower yourself down. “This what you’ve been fantasizing about?”

“Y-Yeah- Yeah, fuck-“ He can’t help it when his hands fly upwards, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips. “Please- Please-“

“Had a feeling you’d be the type to beg.” And then you’re sinking down lower, taking him inch by inch, almost caught off guard by the stretch he gives you. Filling you up so good it should be a crime, a dick this perfect hidden within the jeans of someone so unapproachable.

It’s not long until you’re setting a rhythm. Not long until his truck is filled with the filthy sound of skin on skin. The freshly bought magazines on the passenger seat forgotten - abandoned in favour of something real. So wet you’re soaking the front of his jeans, so tight he’s gasping out a moan ever time you drop your hips down. He can barely even breathe, barely even think - but that was alright, he didn’t need to. All he needed to focus on was the feeling of your pussy wrapping around him like a glove. Like you were made for it. Like you had been waiting for it.

Fucking him like your life depended on it. For all you knew the entire truck was shaking, but you didn’t care. Not now. Not when he was nestled so perfectly inside you, nudging up against your g-spot with each stroke in.

You would’ve liked to last longer, but you just can’t. Especially not when he starts bucking his hips up to meet yours -fingernails digging deep into your skin as he leans forwards. Face buried in your tits, panting and huffing against your skin, downright whorish groans slipping from between his lips. He had needed this, you could tell. And well, so did you.

Your orgasm hits you hard, clamping down around him so tight that the grip on your hips nearly breaks skin. Strained whines muffled against your chest, drool and tears wetting the fabric of your shirt. You’re barely able to move, all but convulsing on top of him, but he fucks you straight through it. Iron grip on you as he fucks up into your wetness, begging you so desperately all the while. “P-Please- Please, can I- I’m gonna- Fuck- Pussy’s so tight. Please, baby-“ Incoherent. Just a babbling mess that’s drooling all over you - and it’s so cute. So cute, you’d have to be a much stronger woman not to give in.

“Yeah- Yeah, give it to me.” Choked out, eyes foggy as he fucks into your twitching cunt, fingernails scratching against your skin. You feel his thrusts grow more desperate, feel his hips jerk and his cock twitch inside you. Then, he’s cumming with a strangled groan - bringing his face further into your chest, clinging onto you like he’d die if he ever let go.

And well, you might’ve just lost your most loyal customer.

Good thing you’ve gotten something much better in return.