#i know nothing about smut tags so...
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eyelambspider · 5 months ago
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♡ Let Me Worship || Soap & Ghost
⤷ summary : soap and ghost will show you how good they think you look & make you feel even better
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┊pairing : john "soap" mactavish x gn!chubby!reader x simon "ghost" riley ┊content warning : nsfw (like pure smut), fluff, nipple play, hair pulling, marking/biting, threesome, body worship, (light?) spanking ┊a/n : this is written with no gender in mind (hopefully it works for any gender reader), if not, plz lmk and i will write for different gender versions! love ya & happy valentines
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Soap had just happened to be walking by your room one day. Casting an idle glance to the side at your open door before he paused, stopping dead in his tracks to look back again with wide eyes.
"Steamin' jesus."
You were standing in front of the mirror, eyes trailing down your form, wearing the new outfit you had picked for yourself. Fingers smoothing over your thighs in a way that made Soap's breath hitch. His baby blue eyes drinking in the sight like a man starved.
So enraptured, in fact, that he hardly registered the fact that Ghost was wandering over, his brows furrowed suspiciously as he approached. Wondering what had the man slack-jawed and practically drooling like a puppy.
"Soap, the fuck are yo-" Ghost peeked his head into your doorframe, following the sergeants gaze and immediately going stiff. His brown eyes widening and following the hypnotic vision of you pinching your hips, an unsure frown dancing across your lips.
"Fucking hell."
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It led to where you were now: smooshed lovingly between the two of them, unable to feel anything but their greedy hands sliding and groping your body reverently.
"Fuckk me," Soap groaned beneath you, sweat beading against his forehead as he moved your hips up and down on his cock, urging you to rest all your weight on his thighs. To let him feel every inch of you pressed against the hard planes of his body. Bouncing you up and down, the rough skin of his hands gripping into your plush hips hungrily. Meeting yours with a buck of his hips, sinking over and over again into your sweet heat with wanton groans. "Ye feel so good," he panted, unable to hold back the urge to lap and suck at your pulse point. His teeth raking over the sensitive skin, fighting the urge to bite and leave a love bite.
"You look even better," Ghost grumbled, voice noticeably huskier than usual under the fabric of his balaclava. His brown eyes were glued to the erotic sight below him. Gaze traveling over the scarred, hardened expanse of his chest and belly... watching in a hypnotic daze as the thick ridge of his cock plunged in and out. It was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen: His hips slamming gently into yours, the worn pads of his fingertips searing into the thick flesh of your waist. Holding you down against Soap while he watched your ass bounce back onto him.
Soap groaned against your throat, lapping up the taste of your salted skin, rolling his hips up to fuck you even an inch deeper.
You little whimpers and moans only spurred them both on, and Ghost grinned lazily at the sight in front of him.
He moved his hands slowly, unable to help a caress and a pinch along the way, sliding his rough palms around and up to your belly. Holding you tight and squeezing. God, he couldn't help but lean over you a little to feel just how soft you were against his strong arm. He stole a moment, panting against your ear and breathing you in... before he stood up straight again, carding his fingers through your hair and tugging gently. "Come on love, arch that back baby," he coaxed, able to fuck you harder.
It gave Soap the prettiest view. Your throat and chest glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, eyes teary and rolled in bliss as the two of them fucked you.
"Jesus, weel, look at that..." Soap leaned his face forward, given the opportunity to capture one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. Suckling and biting gently on the nub in a way that made you clench and cry so fucking sweetly. He didn't stop-fuck-he couldn't.
The sergeant wrapped his hands over the expanse of your ass, giving a dirty squeeze before he spread you for Ghost. A little 'thank you'.
Ghost groaned, feeling a deep shudder wrack through the base of his spine. He couldn't take it anymore either. His cock throbbing and weeping already from the stimulation... and how fucking tight you were.
"Fuck, I'm cumming," he growled, tugging your hair a little harder to hear you whine, "Your body just feels too fucking good," Ghost praised lowly, panting hotly under the balaclava that was now sticking to his face like a second skin from all the sweat.
The two of them were close, gripping and growling like men possessed. Squeezing and groping your body in the best possible way, marveling and worshipping how soft you were against them. How fucking sexy you were taking their cocks so perfectly. Your hips, your thighs, your waist, your stomach, your ass. All of it.
"FUCK!"
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cookies-after-dark · 4 months ago
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writing a huuuuge headcanons post for shadow milk cookie and i frantically run to google images because i don't know how the hell to describe lingerie in writing. like how do i manifest shadow milk cookie's tiny ass in sexy clothing through TEXT.....
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bxriles · 10 months ago
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Watching people in this godforsaken fandom get big mad about Nyxlin is almost as funny to me as watching people get mad about Elaingate/Tamberlain.
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deputyrook · 6 months ago
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I’m actually going crazy at the fucked up Solas/Rook/Lavellan love triangle thing and banged out like 500 words in half an hour. An excerpt:
“Is this how you fucked her too?”
She felt the grit of gravel between her teeth as her face was forced even harder into the ground. His sneer somehow grew even more wild and untamed.
“No. She deserved better than to be rutted into like a Fereldan bitch.”
Rook delighted at the profanity. Who else could claim they got so under Fen’Harel’s skin? An unbidden thought about whether the Inquisitor had ever brought the wolf out of him like this was quickly dismissed.
“A shame. She seemed to like it rough and dirty. Now take me like the Dread Wolf you are.”
... hey anon you're going to post the rest of this right? RIGHT?
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carriehobbs · 2 months ago
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#i'd make less anguished sounds if i chewed glass if i can be completely honest <- I must know what fic merits this comment 👀 I'm new to the fandom and this sounds like a must-read
This is a little bit awkward to answer, because my anguish is not caused by an agonizingly, rip-your-heart-out, heartbreakingly sad fic, but is instead caused by the fact that the fic in question is a wip (and so I can't read it yet, even though I really want to).
The wip is @wayhavenots's Glitchne (Glitch Parker x Daphne Wiseman, from Mind Blind) Regency AU, which PD describes as:
but the premise is that glitch, who is untitled but best friend to marquess zarnecki, goes to a ball in kent's place. he meets and charms miss daphne wiseman (who is newly out in society, grieving her parents, and heartbroken because earl wacker has gone to america). glitch starts courting daphne, which is a problem, because she thinks he's a marquess. but it's a lie he has to keep up, both for his own reasons (falling in love with her, for one) and for kent.
So far, all I know about this fic are the few fun facts and character concepts that have been shared about the fic, and a few snippets of some of the writing. But that is enough to make me incredibly abnormal about this fic.
In the meantime, may I recommend PD's other regency fic, The Debutante's Guide to Saving a Spinster (Farah Hauville x Detective aka Jenny Yang) to tide us all over. 💕
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eddiemunsonsmum · 9 months ago
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Just saw this comment on a story posted a month ago.
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*cries in Eddie Munson Solo Series no one wanted to read, interact with or request for*
No shade to the person that commented this on their own fic if you recognize it. It's not their fault. I'm not mad at them. More crying in the tags.
#and no I didn't tag the solo series like I normally would because it's not about THAT. It's not about trying to get people to read it#It was just really ouchie to see the same concept I wrote 2 years ago get triple the notes in ONE MONTH.#and double the notes of my solo series masterlist in general in one month vs 2 years of my stories sitting there rotting#Then I see people saying they need more solo Eddie and I'm just here like my dudes I begged for requests. BEGGED. But bc I wasn't#/have never been a popular writer people don't want it from ME. It's like omg we want THIS but not like that. Not from you.#Can't help but let it get you down when nothing has changed in 2 years. It's not like I worked my way up and have the interaction now#that every other blog I used to commiserate with back in the day is getting currently. Fandom isn't a competition but it's not fair either#and I really struggle with that a lot of the time#Also yes I will concede I should be happy with the notes on the solo series because they are the highest of all the work on my page but#they're still nothing compared to what some people have just hours after posting a new story.#I saw someone complaining the other day that there are less new stories in the fandom than ever 1. That's simply not true. 2. Even if it wa#can you blame writers for giving up when readers are checking the same popular blogs over again or reading the same 5 tropes the same#2 pairings over and over. The same series? Over and over. Ignoring everything else and then complaining that their faves don't post enough?#That the popular writer with the incredible series (that rightfully deserves interaction) hasn't posted a new dad!eddie or rockstar!eddie#drabble in ages meanwhile there are writes out there pouring their souls into dad!eddie and no one reads it. There is so much rockstar Eddi#smut out there that it could sustain a brand new reader for an entire year before they needed a new fic#Idk man. I'm just feeling so defeated. I write for fun now. But there was a point in time where I desperately tried to build a platform by#offering requests and writing a lot of things I would not otherwise write to try and gain traction on my page and every time I see another#food fucking fic get hundreds of notes I get so sad that I wrote that stupid Melon fic because I had people in my life that told me#they would be excited to read it and for what? One of them still talks to me. The others moved on so fast. Most didn't even reblog it.#Some of them have since written their own food fucking fics that got triple the notes of my OG. Again. No shade to them. I don't own the#concept. It's just disheartening and fucking sad above all else. How hard I tried to get people to LIKE me and my stories. 😂#Just sad hours in general tonight my guys. Going to go and pour the bad feelings into Aftermath and then maybe make a bad life choice and#pour all my savings into an ipad#YES I KNOW first world problems. I know. That's why I try not to talk about it bc it seems so petty considering the state of the world#But you can't help what gets you down#EMMs Journal#EMM's Journal
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omegapheromone · 8 months ago
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Hiya, I've been on a lengthy hiatus from online misce spaces for various reasons, but I'm preparing to get a bit more active again finally! Sorry to everyone who sent asks either before or during this time, I know I've been away for AGES so I don't know if I'll answer every single one right away.
That being said, how has everyone been? What's new? Are people still having random drama over nothing? Have the misce spaces and omegaverse fiction/author spaces separated further again? What's the hot topic to talk about currently /hj
No but I do want to know. How has everyone been? I won't tag any specific people since it's been a long time since I've interacted with anyone, but please don't hesitate to respond to this post, send asks, dms, whatever- I'm glad to be back and feeling more stable again ^^
#gamietxt#misceanimalis#miscecanis#misceverse#misce lifestyle#miscelife#is it still acceptable to tag omegaverse lifestyle or...? /gen bc I literally don't know#last time I was actively around we were having discussions about how people were confusing misce tags for generic omegaverse related ones#and misusing them#and I vaguely recall some very vague drama about people arguing that omegaverse lifestyle and misce are different and that#the former is more kink-based and that misce is sfw or something like that which to me seemed like a fairly meaningless thing to argue about#because like. im gonna be so honest now. I don't think a misce/dynamic identity is a mandatory requirement to include aspects of omegaverse#that you like into your life#like idk maybe I'm missing some context or whatever but as long as everything is tagged correctly then who cares#besides there's nothing inherently 'more' sfw about misce than there is about omegaverse as a whole. both are spectrums#the only difference is that misce is an identity and omegaverse is fiction#contrary to popular belief omegaverse isn't only 100% smut and nothing else#and misce folk are people who experience sexuality just as anyone else and whether misce is a part of their sexuality or not depends#on the person entirely#anyway that's a rant/hot take post for another time I'm more just curious about the current state of the misce community#so don't mind my old man yap#all I'm saying the whole misce vs omegaverse lifestyle argument I saw at one point sounded exactly like how people used to argue about#whether furries were inherently kinky/sexual or not#different community but same beating of a dead horse type thing
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habibialkaysani · 1 month ago
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*
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danysdaughter · 11 days ago
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I Thought We Were Already Dating
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pairing | congressman!bucky x fem!reader
word count | 4k words
summary | you thought you were spiraling over a situationship—meanwhile, bucky barnes had been acting like your very committed, very oblivious boyfriend the entire time. one public meltdown, a congressional office full of witnesses, and a very intense kiss later… you're officially his girl (and he never doubted it).
tags | (18+) MDNI, unprotected sex, p in v, established situationship, mutual pining (but one of them doesn't know), miscommunication, public confession, soft!bucky, domestic chaos, comedy & angst, bucky barnes is your boyfriend (he just forgot to tell you), reader is unhinged (affectionate), FLUFF & SMUT, friends to lovers (but they skipped the "friends" and the "lovers" just happened), poor congressional staff, possessive!reader, love confession, bucky is so in love it hurts
a/n | based on this request. i love writing chaotic reader
likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨✨
ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
divider by @cafekitsune
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Your back hit the mattress in a blur of limbs and low groans, Bucky’s mouth never leaving yours, his hands already sliding under the hem of your shirt like he needed to feel skin, all of it, immediately.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he breathed against your lips, voice rough from hours of holding back everything but this.
You barely managed to smile before his teeth grazed your jaw, his scruff dragging just enough to make you shiver. His body blanketed yours, warm and solid, pressing you down in the most intoxicating way.
“You saw me this morning,” you murmured, fingers curling into his hair.
“Not like this.”
The shirt came off.
Then his.
You didn’t stop him.
You never did.
Because being under Bucky Barnes like this—held like something he didn’t want to let go of—was the only time you felt whole. His touch, his mouth, his breath in your ear as he whispered how good you felt, how fucking perfect you were when you were under him like this.
It was all consuming.
He kissed his way down your chest, every inch of skin worshiped like he didn’t just want you—he needed you. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them down, slow, like he loved the way you sounded when you gasped just from anticipation.
You watched him from above, chest heaving, skin flushed—and in that moment, something tight twisted in your stomach that had nothing to do with arousal.
It was the ache.
The quiet question in the back of your head that always came right before you let him *n.
What are we?
You didn’t ask.
You just let your legs fall open, let his body settle between them, and swallowed the question whole.
He looked down at you once more, eyes so soft they burned.
“You want me?” he asked, voice hushed, reverent.
You nodded.
“Say it,” he whispered, leaning down, lips brushing your collarbone.
“I want you,” you breathed.
He groaned, low and wrecked, and then he was inside you.
One thrust.
Slow. Deep.
Your back arched, your mouth parting in a gasp as he bottomed out, hands gripping your hips like he was anchoring himself in you.
He didn’t move at first.
Just breathed.
Pressed his forehead to yours.
“Fuck,” he murmured. “You always feel like home.”
You blinked.
Your heart stopped.
But then he started moving—hips rolling slow, dragging pleasure from your core in waves. Every stroke was measured, precise, like he wanted you to feel every inch of him. Like he wasn’t just fucking you—he was holding you, claiming you without a single word about what it meant.
You let your nails scrape down his back, your thighs tightening around his waist, chasing every thrust like it could answer the questions you didn’t dare ask.
He kissed you again.
Not hungrily.
Not possessively.
Just soft.
Like a man who thought you already belonged to him.
His pace stayed slow at first—torturously so. Each thrust sank deep, dragging friction that had your nails pressing harder into his skin, a soft whimper caught at the back of your throat.
He was watching you now.
Eyes dark, focused, mouth parted like he was trying to memorize the way you looked when he was buried inside you.
“You feel so fucking good,” he murmured, and the way he said it—it was too soft. Too real. Like it meant something. Like you meant something.
You arched up to meet him, hips rising into each roll of his body, chasing that dizzying edge as the room dissolved around you. The only thing real was the heat building between your bodies, the slick slide of his skin against yours, the way he groaned every time your walls clenched around him.
You could feel your release winding tight, breath ragged, body shaking.
And then—
His hand cupped your cheek.
His lips found yours again, tender and aching as he whispered into your mouth, “That’s it. Let go. I’ve got you.”
It hit you like a wave.
You shattered underneath him, crying out as your body clamped down, orgasm tearing through you with a sharp, wet sound of skin against skin and your name on his tongue like it was sacred.
He fucked you through it, his thrusts faltering, rougher now, deeper, desperate.
“I can’t—baby, I’m gonna—fuck—” he groaned.
You wrapped your legs around him, pulled him tighter, wanted him closer.
“Inside,” you whispered, dazed.
His eyes locked on yours—wide, vulnerable, wrecked.
Then he was coming—hot and hard and raw, his whole body shaking as he buried his face in your neck and let himself fall apart in you.
His voice cracked.
“I love you,” he gasped, barely more than breath.
And you heard it.
Your body was still trembling. Your mind was still fogged.
But your heart?
It snapped to attention.
Because he said it like it was obvious.
Like he’d said it before. Like you knew.
His breathing had slowed.
His body lay heavy over yours, arms curled protectively around your waist, lips pressed to your collarbone in a lazy, half-conscious kiss. You could feel the weight of his affection in every touch—adoring, familiar, like this was just another Thursday night in the life of Bucky Barnes, the man who clearly thought you were his.
Because he said it.
He said I love you.
And not like it slipped.
Not like it was some heat-of-the-moment moan tangled in a climax.
He said it like he meant it.
Like he’d said it before.
Like he thought you already knew.
Your hand twitched on his back.
Your heartbeat, which had only just settled, started racing again—but not with pleasure. With full-blown panic.
Because—
What the actual fuck?
You stared up at the ceiling, body still bare, skin still warm from him, and yet—
Your brain screamed: WHAT ARE WE?
He shifted slightly, nuzzling closer, mumbling something incoherent as he pressed a kiss to your chest.
Meanwhile, your soul was clawing its way out of your skin.
Because if he thought this was that—you being his, this being real—then you’d missed a crucial piece of the plot somewhere back in act one.
He never asked.
There was never a “will you be my girlfriend?” conversation. No official status talk. No expectations. Just great sex, unholy chemistry, soft sleepovers, texts that made your stomach flip, and a drawer at his place you never questioned.
You suddenly wanted to sit up and scream.
But instead, you lay there frozen, blinking at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed you.
His hand rubbed slow circles on your hip.
You resisted the urge to launch yourself across the room.
What the fuck is going on.
Are we dating?
Is this real?
He sighed against your skin, content and sleepy.
You swallowed hard.
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One Week Later
Your phone buzzed beside you on the kitchen counter.
It lit up with his name, the one you still hadn’t changed in your contacts—just “James 🇺🇸” with a dumb little flag emoji he’d added himself the first week you started… whatever this was.
James 🇺🇸:
On my way back—what do you want for takeout?
You stared at the screen for a second too long.
The question was simple. Casual. Routine.
And that’s what made your stomach twist.
Because it was routine.
The texts. The keys to your place. The way he dropped his jacket over your chair like he lived here. The way he smiled when he saw you, like everything else melted away.
You typed, deleted, typed again.
Finally, you sent:
You:
thai? the dumpling place. y'know the one.
Your phone buzzed two seconds later.
James 🇺🇸:
Already reading my mind, huh?
I’ll be there in 30.
Got you extra peanut sauce because I know you hoard it like a gremlin.
You huffed a small laugh, despite the weight still coiled in your chest.
Then you stared at that thread a little too long.
The little hearts you’d sent last week.
The blurry selfie he sent you from his office at midnight, captioned "Thinking about you and losing a vote at the same time 🫡”
The I love you that still echoed in your ears like a gunshot.
You set the phone down.
Walked into the bathroom.
And stared at yourself in the mirror.
You’d never called him your boyfriend.
He’d never asked.
But he acted like he was yours.
And the scary part?
You wanted him to be.
You just didn’t know if he knew that mattered.
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The door creaked open with a familiar scrape—he still hadn’t fixed the hinge.
You turned from the couch, face carefully neutral.
He stepped inside in that unbuttoned suit jacket, tie half-loosened, hair tousled from a long day of pretending not to want to strangle half of Congress.
And he was smiling.
“Hey, baby,” he murmured, like it was the most normal thing in the world, setting the takeout bags down on your kitchen counter without even looking.
Baby.
You froze.
Okay, he calls you that all the time.
Maybe he calls everyone that.
Does he call Sam that?
“Place was packed,” he continued, toeing off his shoes. “Some guy tried to skip the line and the little lady behind the counter threatened to beat him with a ladle. Reminded me of you.”
You stared.
He wandered to the fridge, pulled out your favorite seltzer—your specific lemon one—and cracked it open before sliding it your way.
You caught it on instinct, fingers brushing the condensation.
He hadn’t even asked.
Just knew.
Then, casually, he took off his jacket, draped it over the chair, and loosened his tie more, tossing it with a sigh. His white dress shirt stretched a little at the biceps. He was still talking—something about a subcommittee vote gone to hell—but you were barely hearing it.
Because now?
You were tracking everything.
The way he set down two sets of chopsticks like it was automatic. The way he separated the sauces—your peanut ones on your side, his spicier one near him. The way he snagged the remote and flopped down beside you like he lived here.
Like this was his couch.
Was it his couch?
Was he paying your utilities?
“I don’t know why I let them keep putting me in these budget meetings,” he muttered, cracking open a box of dumplings. “Every time I try to talk, someone from Indiana gives me a migraine.”
You nodded slowly.
Then: “Do you… have a toothbrush here?”
He blinked at you mid-chew.
“Yeah?” He swallowed. “Under the sink. Next to yours. Why?”
Your eye twitched.
“Do you… always leave a change of clothes here?”
He nodded again, popping another dumpling in his mouth. “Babe, half my henleys are in your closet. You know that.”
You did.
You just didn’t process it.
You turned toward him fully, food forgotten.
His arm was already around your shoulders, pulling you in.
You didn’t resist. You leaned in.
And then you stared blankly at the TV as he rested his chin on your head, warm and soft and so stupidly comfortable.
He sighed.
“I missed you today,” he murmured. “It was shit at the office.”
Your heart did a weird thing in your chest—flipped, twisted, frowned.
You blinked slowly.
“…Do you keep anything at anyone else’s place?” you asked, very casually. Too casually.
He snorted. “What?”
“Just wondering.”
He reached for a spring roll. “No? Why would I?”
“Just wondering,” you repeated, mechanically.
He made a soft mhmm noise and handed you a dumpling without looking, already distracted by the TV again, thumb grazing lazy circles against your arm like his body just knew where you were supposed to be.
Meanwhile, your brain was screaming.
Are we dating?
ARE WE DATING?!
And he just sat there, all warm and sleepy and Thai-food-happy beside you, like the man absolutely not at the center of an existential relationship spiral.
You chewed your dumpling, eyes narrow.
You were going to lose your mind.
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A Few Days Later
The sky over Washington was a thick stretch of slate.
Fine rain fell in that soft, insistent way that made everything damp without ever fully raining. The streets were quiet, the air cool against your cheeks, and your lungs ached just enough to make you feel alive as your sneakers slapped against the wet pavement.
Beside you, Rachel kept pace effortlessly.
Of course she did.
She looked like she’d been born doing yoga on a yacht.
“I still don’t get how you convinced me to jog in this weather,” she said, breath easy, ponytail bouncing behind her. “You’re getting fit for a reason or just embracing the sad girl cardio?”
You huffed a laugh through your nose, ignoring the sting in your ribs. “Trying to keep up with a guy who’s genetically engineered and built like a statue.”
She smirked. “Oh, right. The Bucky Barnes. Still a thing?”
You didn’t answer right away.
Your feet hit a puddle, splashing your ankles.
Rachel didn’t wait.
“I mean… it’s cute. Really. Him bringing you coffee, showing up to all your little gallery events, texting you like a golden retriever with a crush.”
You squinted through the mist. “Is there a ‘but’ coming?”
She gave a mock innocent look. “No ‘but.’ I just think if he hasn’t made it official by now, he’s probably just riding the comfort wave. You know?”
Your stomach dropped—quiet, slow—like something sliding off a ledge in the dark.
“He’s… not like that,” you muttered.
Rachel made a noncommittal sound, the kind that sounded like “maybe” but meant “absolutely.”
“Sure,” she said lightly. “But a guy like that? Everyone wants him. Powerful, polished, and hot—but still gives off that ‘I could destroy you emotionally if I wanted’ vibe. It’s catnip.”
You bit your tongue.
She went on, like she didn’t just lob a grenade at your chest.
“I’m just saying. If I were dating him, I’d make damn sure everyone knew it. Otherwise…” She shrugged, smiling sweetly. “Kind of feels like letting a limited edition slip through your fingers.”
You slowed slightly, blinking rain from your lashes.
Rachel picked up her pace, unaware—or pretending to be.
Or maybe that was the point.
The worst part?
You didn’t even know what to say.
Because in your head, you were screaming: I don’t know if I’m dating him either.
You didn’t answer her.
You just picked up speed.
One second, you were jogging beside her—lungs aching, mind heavy—and the next, your legs were moving, not with purpose but with sheer emotional combustion.
“Wait—what the hell?” Rachel’s voice snapped from behind you, sharp with confusion. “Where are you going?”
You shouted over your shoulder, breath shallow, “Forgot—I left the oven on!”
It was a terrible excuse.
You hadn’t even used the oven that morning.
And Rachel, in all her smug, sculpted glory, definitely knew it.
But you didn’t care.
You turned down a side street without looking back, rain misting against your skin, hair sticking to your neck as you ran harder, faster, legs burning. You were vaguely aware of your own ridiculousness. You were sprinting through Capitol Hill in soaked leggings and adrenaline—not because of a fire, but because your chest was burning.
Because the words still a thing were still ringing in your ears.
Because her little smile made you want to scream.
And because deep down, you didn’t know how to answer her.
You didn’t know.
Your lungs ached, your sneakers skidded slightly on wet pavement as you turned a corner, and still—you kept going.
Toward the tall glass building you knew by heart now. The security desk that always smiled when you came in. The floor where the man who may or may not be your boyfriend spent hours arguing policy and quietly doodling in his tiny notebook between meetings.
You didn’t know what you were going to say when you got there.
You didn’t know what you wanted him to say.
But you knew this:
You couldn’t keep playing house in your head while the floor beneath it kept shifting.
You needed an answer.
Even if it hurt.
Even if Rachel ended up being right.
You just prayed she got splashed by a Metro bus on the way home.
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The doors of the administrative wing slammed open with a bang.
You stumbled in, soaked from drizzle, cheeks flushed, ribs on fire, and about three seconds from a full cardiac event. Your leggings were clinging to your thighs, your hoodie had definitely seen better days, and your lungs were currently staging a mutiny.
Several staffers at their desks froze mid-keystroke.
Someone dropped a pen.
Bucky looked up from where he was speaking with a few of his aides, a file in one hand, coffee in the other—and blinked at you like you’d just teleported in from an alternate timeline.
“Hey—what—?”
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
Silence.
Every single head in the room turned.
Bucky’s coffee cup paused halfway to his lips.
You pointed at him, panting. “Because—I think it’s time. I want to be your girlfriend. Officially. Like—not just sleepovers and emotional eye contact over takeout—I mean actual, real-life, ‘we’re together’ kind of thing.”
You sucked in another breath and barreled on before you lost your nerve.
“I know you’re busy, and, like, technically running half of Congress with your jawline, but I just—I need clarity, okay? Because I was jogging with Rachel, who’s a menace to society, and she said some stuff and I started spiraling and I just—I ran here. I ran. Here. For this.”
There was a beat of complete silence.
Bucky’s eyes were wide.
His aides?
They were riveted.
One woman actually had her hand over her mouth like this was her favorite telenovela.
You blinked at the room.
Your mouth opened. Closed. You slowly lowered your arm.
“Okay,” you said, breathless. “So clearly, that was… too much.”
You looked around at the awkward stares, then back at Bucky, your voice flattening with pure, defeated embarrassment.
“So maybe I was delusional. Maybe this isn’t what I thought. And that’s fine.”
You nodded to yourself, a slow descent into insanity.
“If I’m just some situationship moron who caught feelings and made a public scene at a congressional office,” you continued dryly, “I’m going to kill myself and take everyone in this room with me.”
You made eye contact with one aide near the door.
He flinched.
Then you sighed heavily and scanned the room, noting every wide-eyed aide pretending desperately to become one with their laptops.
Then you snapped.
“Show’s over, folks. Go home. Or back to your unpaid Excel spreadsheets or whatever.”
No one moved.
One intern coughed.
You groaned, dragging both hands over your face in slow, mortified defeat, mumbling through your fingers, “This is literally my villain origin story.”
You barely heard his footsteps as Bucky approached, but you felt him—warmth, presence, tall and steady as he stopped just a few feet in front of you.
“Hey,” he said gently, “can you look at me?”
You shook your head without moving your hands. “I’ll die.”
“No you won’t.”
“I might.”
He chuckled quietly, and something about it made your heart twist. Like this wasn’t the end of the world. Like maybe it wasn’t even close.
You slowly peeked between your fingers.
He smiled softly, eyes full of that same calm patience he used when trying to explain to you how Medicare reform worked.
He stepped closer, brushing a damp strand of hair from your cheek. “It’s 2 o’clock,” he said, glancing around the room. “They all get off at five.”
You stared up at him.
“Oh,” you said blankly. “Cool.”
A pause.
Then, softly—almost hesitantly—he added, “I thought we were already dating.”
Your arms dropped from your face as your expression completely short-circuited.
“…What.”
He tilted his head, confused. “Yeah. For, like… a while now?”
You just stared at him.
Unmoving.
Mouth parted.
One eyebrow quirked in silent disbelief.
“…What.”
He blinked again.
Now he looked confused.
“You… didn’t think we were?”
“…No?”
He gave you the most innocent, baffled look known to man.
“I brought you to Sam's birthday party. You met his nephews. You wear my boxers. What part of this didn’t scream boyfriend to you?”
You opened your mouth.
Then closed it.
Then opened it again.
“I—You never asked me!” you accused, voice pitching.
“I didn’t think I had to!” he exclaimed.
You stared at him, absolutely scandalized. “How was I supposed to know then?”
Bucky blinked. “I—what do you mean? Everything I do is—”
“You’re from the 40s, James!” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “You guys used to, like, wear suits and give flowers and do grand declarations and ask girls to go steady in a diner over milkshakes! I was waiting for that!”
His jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“I watched Grease with you last week!” you cried. “You don’t get to act brand new!”
He dragged a hand over his face, groaning. “Okay, no more old movies for you.”
You crossed your arms, still damp and out of breath, glaring at him like he’d personally invented confusion.
Then he stepped back.
Took a slow, deep breath.
Straightened his posture.
And said, “Okay. Fine.”
He cleared his throat, eyes locked with yours, serious as a heart attack. Then he said your name—your full name.
“Will you do me the incredible honor of officially being my girlfriend?”
The room went so quiet you could hear someone’s chair creak.
You stared at him.
Then slowly, a dumb smile spread across your face.
“Wow,” you said, blinking. “This is… so sudden.”
Bucky paused, squinting
You pressed a hand to your chest. “I mean… we’ve only been sleeping together, sharing hoodies, texting nonstop, and eating Thai food three times a week for a few months. You barely know me.”
His jaw clenched.
“Don’t.”
“I mean, I barely know me, James. Are you sure about this? How could I possibly say—?”
He said your name—a low, gravelly warning that made your smile bloom full force.
You grinned.
“Yes,” you said. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”
And before he could react—before he could breathe—you launched yourself into his arms, hands gripping his shoulders, mouth crashing into his with every ounce of pent-up emotion and leftover adrenaline.
His arms instinctively caught you—one around your waist, the other beneath your thighs as your legs wrapped around him like you’d done this a hundred times before.
He kissed you back, hard and fast, like he’d been waiting for this moment—like maybe he needed it as badly as you did.
Somewhere behind you, someone definitely muttered, “What the fuck.”
Another staffer fumbled their phone like they were torn between reporting this to H.R. and posting this on the internet.
Bucky didn’t care.
He just kissed you deeper, right there in the middle of his office, as if the whole damn building hadn’t just watched him get emotionally hijacked by the woman he thought was already his.
Eventually, you pulled back, breath a little ragged, lips swollen, cheeks flushed, arms still looped lazily around his neck.
Bucky was wrecked—eyes dazed, mouth parted, chest rising and falling under you like he’d just run a marathon and won.
You leaned in once more, planted a sweet, casual kiss on his cheek, and whispered, “See you at home.”
You slid off his lap and smoothed your hoodie like you hadn’t just climbed him like a tree in front of half his professional staff.
Bucky blinked. “Wait—what? I was just about to go on break—”
You turned at the door, already tugging your hood up. “Yeah, no, I gotta find Rachel.”
He frowned, still catching up. “Why?”
“To tell her to her face that you’re mine now,” you said flatly. “And so hopefully, she dies of jealousy in front of my eyes.”
You opened the door and strode out like a woman on a mission.
Bucky watched you go, completely speechless, still half-hard in his slacks, shirt wrinkled from where you’d yanked on him like you were trying to break his will to serve.
His aides were frozen, stunned, borderline traumatized.
And then, slowly, that grin started to grow on his face.
A little crooked. A little stunned.
But proud.
Because that?
That was officially his girl.
And God help anyone who tried to say otherwise.
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6K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 7 days ago
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I have yet to see Kpop demon hunters today but I am craving for Jinu smut, But also I don’t like noncon/dubcon in the slightest but if this feels like it so be it lol, So may I request Jinu x huntrix member fem reader? When reader decides to investigate the saja boys by herself, The rest of the girls are obviously worried about her safety but she tells them that she’ll be okay, Cut to a couple hours later with Jinu absolutely pounding reader from behind and making her cum nonstop just as he wanted to ever since he layed eyes on her.
I can do dub-con. I don't think people realize it's a very common kink.
Pairing: Jinu x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con, rough sex, creampie, body betrayal, enemies who fuck, possessive sex, biting, hate sex
Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions
A/N: This movie now lives rent free in my head.
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You should have listened to your friends, you should have never went after Jinu all by yourself, you should have brought backup. Now you're bent over his bed, getting your pussy pounded raw and hard from behind. "Either you and yours are getting sloppy or you're really stupid for thinking you could defeat us on your own. Or even just defeat me. Or, hah, maybe, you came here hoping this would happen."
As soon as you heard him suggest such a thing you turned your head to glare at him. Jinu grinned, his smile as demonic as it always was, no longer hidden behind that pretty facade. With your arms pinned and held behind your back you could barely move, and whenever you did you just took his cock, over and over. It was driving you insane.
"Go fuck yourself, you goddamn bastard." You gritted through your teeth, biting back your moans as his thrusts kept getting faster and faster, deeper, almost like he was trying to punish you for acting foolish. "I would never stoop so low... to want someone like you." A high pitched moan escaped from your lips when you felt the sting of his hand on your ass.
"You say that, demon hunter, but your cunt is drooling for me, so tight and wet. Hear that, how sloppy and slutty you pussy gets with demon cock in it?" He slammed his cock into you, in and out, making your legs tremble and your vision blurry. "Be honest, it'll feel so much better."
You shook your head as you felt yourself blushing. You hated it, how good Jinu's cock felt inside of you, how good this felt and yet it was so wrong. You hated him, you should hate this too so why was your body working against you in this moment? Why couldn't you tell him to go to hell like you so many times before?
"Better, that's a good girl. No more fighting me. Don't worry, this can be our little secret, no one has to know how you whore yourself out for me." His body pressed fully against your, his demonic fangs nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck and shoulder. "I won't tell if you won't, demon hunter. You got my word." The glare you gave him was challenging, you hoped threatening but that was impossible with the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin and your pussy taking his hard cock while you moaned.
"Your word... means nothing to me." You hissed, putting as much venom and hatred in your voice as you could have. He didn't seem pleased with that, he bared his long teeth at you and you hated how your pussy clenched around him when you saw them.
"Really? Fine, makes no difference to me. But see how your team feels when you come back to them, with your cunt freshly fucked and filled with demon cum." You watched him transform from his human form into his demon form, and god, his cock felt even better like this. "I don't care if you believe me or not but I'm gonna make sure you never forget this moment. The moment when you came from being fucked by me, because of my cock, because I made you feel so good!"
With one final thrust he pushed both your bodies over the edge, and you stopped yourself just in time to not scream his name. You didn't want to feed his ego any more than you already have. Jinu laughed maniacally as he fucked his seed deep into your pussy, the wet, messy noises only adding to his feral, wild nature.
"Fuck, yes, oh, wanted this... ever since I first saw you. Wanted to carve the shape of my cock into your cunt. Make you mine." He ended with a long kiss on your shoulder, still holding you while your body trembled and your vision swam. "Mine, only mine from now on." You expected him to be rough as he pulled out but he wasn't, he was slow, stopping as he heard you hiss and whimper. "Now that's a pretty little sight."
You heard a flash of a camera and turned to see Jinu smirking with his phone in his hand, his cock still out, dripping with the combination of your release. "You...! Gross! You have no shame!"
Jinu stuck his tongue out at you, "A little keepsake for me. To tide me over until our next time."
An unpleasant, or maybe pleasant, shiver went through you at the suggestion of a next time with him. "That won't happen. I'm going to bring you to your knees before then!"
"Oh? If you wanted me on my knees all you had to do was ask. I'm very good with my tongue. I can show you next time." His words and lewd gestures made your stomach tie into knots, and an uncomfortable heat form. "I could do it now. Seems like you might need some cleaning up."
Furious you stood up on your wobbly legs and slapped him. It was pathetic, that this was the best you could muster in this moment, but it also felt good to catch him off guard. "You're dead next time I see you."
Despite the slap he grinned at you, licking his lips, "Looking forward to it, my demon hunter." He winked at before he snapped his fingers next to your ear. For a moment you didn't understand what he did, then your vision started blurring. You tried to hit him again but ended up collapsing against him. "Let's get you somewhere where the others will find you." Barely coherent you thought you felt his lips press against your forehead before you fully passed out.
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sundives · 2 months ago
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My kink is karma ✶ pjs.
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If karma's real, hope it's your turn.
Summary: You've wished nothing but bad things to your ex-best friend after she ruined your life by stealing your boyfriend and having your friend group take her side. And it looks like the gods have listened to your prayers when you were approached by Park Jongseong — your ex-best friend's first love.
You believed that bad karma will eventually get her but when Jay was persistent on dating you, you couldn’t help but to plot a petty revenge on your ex-best friend and the worst thing that you can do? Date (and maybe fuck) the guy that she longs for.
✰ Song inspiration: My kink is karma - Chappell Roan, Lacy - Olivia Rodrigo, The grudge - Olivia Rodrigo
✰ Word Count: 21.7k
✰ Tags: Revenge, strangers to lovers, man yearning and slow-burn pining!!! Fluff, a bit of angst, smut, college settings, reader is petty but we all are! reader can also be confusing but let her be, she also smokes for like one scene, Jay is genuine (and a down bad loser), he’s also in a band. Yunjin and Jake as your roommates (and they’re so parents-coded for reader)! Mentions of Enhypen members! <3 Yeonjun as your ex-boyfriend lmao. Oc as your ex-best friend (and so are other minor characters.)
✰ CW: Smut! Plot with little porn, oral (f receiving) cowgirl, a bit submissive Jay and that’s sexy haha, unprotected sex (pls don’t do it) petnames (baby, pretty girl) short aftercare because reader cried after sex. Idk I might have missed other stuff.
✰ Asul's Note: I know that my song inspirations are about sapphic relationships but this plot just went into my mind and i was just,,, you know what, i want to write that. So this is a huge brain rot for me, and just word vomits all pieced together. (Inspired by real life events tbh) Also it’s my first time writing smut so don’t judge. I know it’s shitty too. Other than that, just think of their university as a prestigious university that requires even college students to wear uniforms.
This is my first Enhypen fanfic, hope you guys like it! <3
-
The night club was full by the time the clock struck 1 despite being a Thursday night. Group of friends mostly filled the available tables and couch of the knit-tight club. The speaker’s blasting throughout the four corners with the dj playing some edm music.
It was loud, sweaty, and hot. People your age were dancing and singing along some 2010s pop song as their sweaty bodies hyped the dance floor — completely contrasting you. 
You were wearing a black denim pants and a halter top, sitting legs-crossed on the high stool by the bartender’s counter. You've been sitting there since 11 in the evening and yet, you’re still halfway on your bottle of beer. 
Clubs aren’t always your go-to place, but you felt the urge to celebrate small wins for things that happened today. A small smirk forming on your face as you recall the afternoon scene. 
Your ex-best friend, Yoomi lost her scholarship. What a great way to start your senior year in college. You think. On the first day of class, Yoomi let the tears fall out of her eyes as your other ‘friends’ gathered around to comfort her. Yoomi was sobbing hard as she bore the news on why she was crying. 
She was so loud. It was clear that she wanted to gain sympathy from your other classmates. She lost her scholarship because her gpa last academic year didn’t make it to the cutout. That is because of that one professor who gives low grades. You got a low grade from that professor too but you didn’t mind because it was kinda decent but for Yoomi? It’s the end of her world. 
Yoomi was crying her heart out, sharing that she tried telling the professor that it’ll ruin her goal of achieving summa cum laude this graduation but failed to appease his empathy. You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes because of her words. Your roommate, Yunjin noticed it and could only laugh lightly because you didn’t hide the disgusted look on your face. 
“She deserves it,” you commented while you and Yunjin were on your way back to your dorm. 
“I get you,” Yunjin sympathized. “I really don’t get why everyone likes her. She thinks she’s smart and quirky but the truth is, she’s cringey and pathetic.”
“People are stupid, and are on the same level as Yoomi,” you let out a sigh, trying to erase Yoomi out of your head. 
You and Yoomi instantly clicked on the first day of your freshman year. Both coming from a different town, you two found solace with each other. You two shared the same likes and dislikes, fangirled over anime and would send edit videos on tiktok.
Yoomi was talkative and friendly. Soon, your duo became a friend group who studied together and ranted over crazy tasks and strict professors. Your friend group made you adjust well during freshman year and you were happy that you found a safe space while being away from your family. 
College also became a place for you to try dating, and maybe, find a decent guy that you’ll commit a serious relationship with. During your freshman year, you matched with Yeonjun on a dating app and after a few dates, you two became official. 
You and Yeonjun dated throughout college. It was stable and healthy, and everyone envied your relationship. Yeonjun’s close with your friends and so are you with his friends. For Yoomi, she didn’t lose a friend even though you had a boyfriend. Hell, you were so happy that the two of them are close and bear no awkward signs. 
But that’s where you should’ve seen the signs. Yoomi has always been touchy with Yeonjun, but that’s just how she was with your other male friends. That’s why you didn’t want to put malice on Yoomi — which was your biggest mistake. 
Then came junior year. In a glimpse, Yeonjun became cold to you. Telling you that he’s busy and he couldn’t meet you. You trusted him that he’s just busy, because so were you. Junior year was hectic so you never prioritise your relationship. You were confident with your relationship with him.
So it hit you like a truck when you went to Yeonjun’s dorm to surprise him — only to see Yoomi with him. That’s when it sinked in to you all the times that both of them turn down your study dates, they’re seeing each other behind your back. 
You caught them in the act. Yoomi was on top of Yeonjun, half-naked at your sight. You didn’t miss the way Yoomi smirked, which made you leave the scene. Yeonjun attempted to go after you but you’ve made up your mind. That night, you broke up with Yeonjun and completely cut Yoomi off. 
Your group of friends heard about it, but you didn’t feel a single comfort from them. You were told that “whatever fight you and Yoomi had, they don’t want to pick a side.” and it’s obvious that they’re on Yoomi’s side.
As the days continued, you felt left out by your friend group while Yoomi became center of the attention, that is why the remaining months of your junior year, you only had your roommates by your side 
Yoomi didn’t even wait for a month to hard-launched her relationship with Yeonjun. You found it pathetic of her but you didn’t care anymore. All the tears you’ve cried turned into a loathing feeling for Yoomi, and there’s not a single day that you wish for her downfall.  
It seems like karma has been hearing your prayers. Yoomi’s scholarship is one of the reasons why she can study in a prestigious university like Decelis University, and losing it just in time for senior year can be painful. But you’re overjoyed by the news, wishing that it’ll get worse like her being unable to finish college. You couldn’t help but to lightly chuckle as you took another sip from your beer, chugging it down until its last drop. 
“Hey,” your thoughts trailed off when you picked-up a masculine voice. You turned to your right to see a guy around your age standing beside you. He’s leaning against the counter with a bottle of beer in his hand. He’s hot with his slicked-back hair, wearing a cotton polo shirt tucked-in snuggly in his cotton pants — contrasting all the streetwear-dressed guys in the club. 
“Hi,” you offered a smile, mentally preparing yourself to reject him. You didn’t go to the club to be picked-up by a stranger after all. 
“You’re alone?” he asked and you only laughed. Of course. That's the first thing a guy would ask. 
“Do you see me talking to someone?” you raised an eyebrow, and that made him chuckle. 
“Well, you wouldn’t mind me accompanying you?” he offered, stretching his hand. “I’m Jay.” 
You stopped your tracks, blinking to sink in his name. Jay. That name sounds so familiar but you couldn’t point a finger about it. 
“Jay,” you breathe. “You go to Decelis University?”
He seems to be surprised by your question. “Yeah, you probably heard of Arcanum? I’m their electric guitarist.”
Fuck. You cursed internally, eyes turning wide. Park Jongseong. Jay. Studies Marketing and Advertising. Electric guitarist of Decelis University’s university band, Arcanum. 
Jay. Your ex-best friend Yoomi’s first love. They go to the same school back in her hometown. Her long-time crush who she followed to Decelis University just to have a chance with him. The guy who’s band gig she attends wherever it is. The guy who made Yoomi hyperventilate when Jay glanced at her for a split second.
And maybe the reason why you didn’t suspect Yoomi to take a liking to Yeonjun is because her goal has always been Jay. 
Jay, who seems to be Yoomi’s universe, is standing in front of you, and casually flirting with you — something that Yoomi never had the chance to do. 
It was as if karma really is doing god’s work. All of Yoomi’s desperate attempts to be noticed by Jay didn’t stand a chance the moment Jay approached you first. The bulb inside your brain suddenly lightens up and suddenly, a plan is circulating in your mind.
“So you’re the electric guitarist,” you smiled. “I admit, your solo performance during the year-end concert was hot.” 
“You think I’m hot?” he asked amusingly.
“Don’t flatter yourself Jay,” you laughed. “You’ll be much hotter if you buy me another bottle of beer though.” 
“If that’s the only thing that can continue this conversation, I’ll be happy to.”
Gotcha. You watched as Jay called out the bartender to order another bottle of beer for you. How you managed to do it so easy was probably karma’s doing and you’re thanking the heavens for siding on you. 
As the night deepens, you and Jay shared an endless conversation about you two. Jumping from one topic to another, and you didn’t miss the subtle flirty remarks he would throw at any chance he could. It didn’t even strike you that the longer your talks were, the less people had become inside the club. 
“It’s almost four,” Jay said. “I think they’re just waiting for us to leave.”
You scanned the whole club and there’s only a few people around. You only had three bottles of beer that night and it was enough for you. You don’t even feel a hint of tipsiness in your system, that’s why you glanced at Jay and smiled,
“I think that’s our cue then,” you said, grabbing your purse and fishing out your wallet when Jay had already handed over his card. 
“So, am I hotter now that I bought you a bottle of beer?” he jokes. 
“You sound like you want some affirmations from me,” you smirked. 
“I’ll be happy to hear affirmations from a pretty girl like you.”
That made you chuckle. “Sure Jay, thanks for the drinks.” you jumped out from the high stool when Jay tapped your shoulder. 
“I’m not really the type to do this but,” Jay started, and you can sense a hint of hesitation in his tone. “But do you wanna go to my place?”
You stared at him for a few seconds. “Sorry, I’m not that type of girl.”
“It’s okay, and I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable,” he quickly said, and you couldn’t believe what you just heard. Most guys will be persistent to take a girl home, but Jay looks away from you embarrassed. 
“I didn’t, don’t worry,” you gave him a smile. You lean towards him, tiptoe-ing to land a kiss on his cheeks. 
“Maybe take me on a date or two, then I can go to your place,” you whispered to his left ear. 
You gave him a wave before you turned around and started walking away when you heard Jay call out your name again.
“Then, when can I see you again!?” he asked. 
You turned around and only smiled at him, “you go to Decelis right? If we bumped into each other, then maybe that’s fate’s way of telling me to go on a date with you.”
You didn’t even let him say another word. You probably have left him speechless as you walked out of the club. The cold air welcomed you as you walked your way towards your car. 
As you sat in the driver’s seat, that’s when you let out a loud laugh that you’ve been holding back throughout the night. Slapping your steering wheel harshly as you laugh until the air in your lungs weakens you.
Catching your breath, you leaned against your seat as you sinked in your mind that you spent the night flirting with Jay — and if you were being petty, you would’ve accepted his invitation. 
Sure it was inviting but short. If you would’ve slept with Jay, that’s just it. You’re just the girl that banged her ex-best friend’s long-time crush and for you, it’s a bit shallow to get back to Yoomi. You wanted her to suffer. To be hurt slowly just like what she did to you. That’s why you’re curating a perfect revenge plan — get back to her by dating the guy that she could never have. 
And Park Jongseong? Well, he’s just the perfect tool for your revenge. But first, you just have to make sure that your plan is actually a sign from the gods themselves. And the only way to find out is if you ever encounter Jay again. 
-
They say that a university is big if you’re looking for someone, and small if you’re avoiding someone. 
If they ask you which one is you, neither of them. You couldn’t avoid Yoomi since she’s your classmate and you curse Decelis’ blocked section policy for letting you see her and your friend group everyday.
You’re not looking for someone too. And if that someone is named Park Jongseong, then yes, you’re definitely not looking for someone. It’s been two weeks since your encounter with Jay and you’ve given up easily. Now, you’re just praying for karma to do all the work.
It was past five in the afternoon. Your last class just ended and your roommates are waiting for you at a Pho stall outside the university for dinner. 
You walked your way towards the university’s nearest exit. The sky slowly turns into shades of purple and deep orange, the sun is about to set and you can feel the cool breeze. You hum lightly as you listen to your music on the way. 
That’s when you felt a light tap on your shoulder, startling you as you turned around and behold —
“Found you,” he teased.
It was obvious in your eyes that you were surprised to see him. Removing your earphones while processing your thoughts. 
“I guessed you’re too stunned to see me,” Jay teases again, making you snap out of your daze.
You chuckled nervously, “what? You just scared me, that’s all.” 
“Really? Well now that I finally found you, how about we talk about your promise?”
“You really searched for me, didn’t you?” you asked instead.
Jay tilts his head amusingly. “Not really, let’s just say fate is doing its work.”
Funny. You thought. It’s the same sign that you’re looking to continue your plan. You weren’t able to say another thing as Jay stood there waiting for your answer. 
And suddenly, that scene from Yeonjun’s dorm flashed in your mind. It has always been engraved in your mind how close they were. Their intimate position as Yeonjun looked at you with shock while Yoomi was glad that you caught both of them. 
Then you remember the times you accompanied Yoomi to Jay’s gig. How she would shout his name so loud that you looked away embarrassed. How she crashed out when Jay reposted her instagram story of his photo taken by her. You remembered how deep Yoomi’s love for Jay — ever since high school, Jay has always been the guy that she wanted to marry. 
You told yourself that if you ever crossed paths with Jay again, it’ll be the sign to get back to Yoomi. That this is karma’s way to tell you that you should do it instead of waiting for them. Now, Jay found you and is eager to get that date, what’s holding you back now?
It’s the last year of your college. Why not end it with pettiness and hatred? You don’t want to graduate college with pain and trauma, and surely, you don’t want to be the bigger person who’ll forgive and forget — no, you were never always the bigger person. Not when there’s nothing to forgive and forget because both Yeonjun and Yoomi weren’t sorry for their actions. 
“Like, right now?” You asked Jay. 
Jay merely shrugs, “I mean if you want to, but if you want a splendid, prepared date, we can also have that one.” 
You clicked your tongue. Pondering if this is worth ditching Yunjin and Jake. 
And it didn’t take you a minute to decide. You fished out your phone and started typing a message to your roommates. 
3rd floor besties <3
Yn: Can’t go. Jay asked me to have dinner with him. I’ll spare the details later. 
5:23 pm
Yunjin: JAY ???? THE GUY THAT Yoomi LIKES ???
5:24 pm
Jake: Guessed he found you lmao. He’s been yapping about you since that night at the club. 
5:24 pm
Yunjin: GO FOR IT GURLIE WE LOVE TO SEE IT. 
5:24 pm
You chose to not reply to your roommates and instead, placed your phone in your jeans pocket. 
“So, where should we spontaneously go for a dinner date?” You asked. 
“You sure, you don’t mind ditching your friends?” he throws back the question. 
You only shrugged, “they’ll be fine. So, where are we going?” 
“You take the pick, I’m okay with anything.”
You and Jay stumbled upon a small chinese eatery just five minutes away from the university gate. It’s a bit crowded and maybe, your pho cravings can be replaced with xiao long bao. 
As soon as the server left the table, that’s when an awkward atmosphere emitted between the two of you. You didn’t know what to say compared that night wherein alcohol took a huge part in your courage. 
“So, how have you been?” Jay started, making you glance at him.
You let out a soft chuckle. “I’m doing okay actually, how about you? You seem like you were glad to see me.” 
“I’m going to be honest but I actually am glad to see you.”
For Jay, the university was big yet small as he looked for you. 
He never felt so pathetic in his life before. One of his mistakes was not asking for your socials and damn you, for telling him that it’ll be fate for you two to meet again. He’s not even a spiritual person and whatever you said made him think if you’re interested in him or not. 
A week or two felt like a hopeless case, it wasn’t until his idiotic friend, Jake Sim only recently told him that you’re his roommate — after weeks of him venting his frustration.
“You’re down bad,” Jake jokingly said. 
“Shut up and just tell me about her college program,” Jay hastily said. 
“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Jake said in a serious tone. “Her last relationship was fucked-up, her ex was a fucking asshole that cheated on her.” 
Jay didn’t question Jake’s protective tone. He only nods as he assures his friend that he doesn’t have any bad intentions towards you. He understands why it took Jake a while for him to say that you’re his roommates. 
That’s when he got to know you. You’re a senior like him. You study diplomatics which is on the other side of the university — far from his building. While it’s stupid for him to stand outside your department building looking like a stalker, Jay took the courage to pass by the building in hopes of bumping into you. 
And it seems like favor is on him because you two met midway that what he was supposed to plan. 
“Jake told you huh?” you laughed after hearing Jay’s story. 
“Yeah, he also told me some stuff,” Jay replied, making you stop. You glanced at him, heart beating fast. 
“About your ex, you know, he’s an asshole who doesn't deserve you.”
You only smile at him. “It’s kinda traumatic for me, what happened and — Jay, I just want to tell you that I’m not that ready to enter a serious relationship.”
“You can back out now before I use you in my plan,” was what you actually meant. 
“And I am not rushing you,” Jay answered. “Let’s just keep it casual okay? Get to know each other, and go on a few dates.”
You let out a nervous laugh, “you’re eager huh?”
“I just don’t want to lose you again,” Jay truthfully said. So casual and simply that he didn’t know it shot an arrow to your heart.
That was your sign.
“I think he likes me,” you started. After the dinner, Jay walked you to your dorm where Jake and Yunjin were waiting. You can see through the floor balcony that the two of them were waiting for you like a parent whose daughter went past her curfew.
“Likes you? Dude, he’s down bad!” Jake pointed out. “I swear, every time I was with him, he’s all frustrated because he couldn’t find you.” 
“And it took you two weeks to tell him that you’re y/n’s roommate?” Yunjin raised an eyebrow.
“I thought it’ll pass, but two weeks and he still keeps on looking for y/n had me thinking that he’s so desperate,” Jake shrugs. 
You let out a frustrated groan, getting your roommate’s attention. 
“You guys be honest, am I petty if I want to date Jay just to get back to Yoomi?” you asked. 
The two of them only stared at you, making you let out a sigh again. 
“It’s stupid right? I shouldn’t do it —”
“No, no, if it gives you the satisfaction of getting back to Yoomi, then why not?” Yunjin answered. 
“Just make sure you don’t hurt Jay, he seems genuine about you,” Jake added. 
You only stared at them for a good minute. “This is a bad idea right?”
Both your roommates looked at each other. Yunjin signaled Jake who only groaned as he glanced back at you. He fixes his glasses like he’s sort of a scientist while he leans against the railings of the balcony. 
“Y/n, I’m telling you this as Jay’s friend. If you plan on using Jay just to get back to Yoomi, then don’t do it. Don’t involve innocent people around here — regardless how much Yoomi hurt you,” Jake explained. 
“Yeah, who knows, maybe it’ll go back to you too,” Yunjin added. 
You only nod at their words. “But Jay really likes me — but I’m not ready for a relationship. The only reason why I said yes was because I was really planning on getting back to Yoomi.”
The three of you fell into an awkward silence. Silently pondering your words, both your roommates knew how much it hurted you, and while they’re in to tolerate your pettiness, an innocent person is on the line. 
Then, Yunjin’s face lights up, snapping her fingers to get your attention. 
“Just think of it this way y/n, Jay likes you and not Yoomi. Yoomi has been obsessing with Jay for god knows how long, and you got him wrapped around your finger that easily. Just date him casually! Just show to Yoomi that you can have Jay and she can’t — and she’s dating that trash of your ex too.” Yunjin explained. 
“Yunjin’s right, and Jay told you that he’s not rushing you right? You’re not pressured to date him exclusively too. Get to know him too, who knows maybe you two end up friends instead,” Jake added. 
“Wait, that answers my worry! I can also reject Jay since he knew from the start that I am not ready for a committed relationship,” you pointed out. 
“Jay’s a nice guy y/n, he’ll understand if you reject him too,” Jake stated. 
You let out a loud sigh of relief. The plan was simple: date Jay and show Yoomi that. You didn’t need some splendid action to be the end of your revenge. It didn’t matter to you its aftermath. All you can think about is stretching it long enough to make it believable.
And probably long enough for Yoomi to confront you and shove in her face that Jay’s interested in you — not her. That’ll destroy her. 
“Just don’t overthink about it,” Yunjin stated. “I know how you tend to mix your decisions with your emotions. Always think rationally okay? Go with the flow and everything.”
You only looked at her with an assuring smile, “don’t worry, no feelings involved in this one.” 
-
You always wonder why luck is always on Yoomi’s side. 
Of course, she managed to maintain her scholarship despite not maintaining her gpa. A bit unfair but you heard that she pulled a few strings to your college dean just so she can still have her scholarship until graduation. 
Now, she’s all over her instagram story having a “story time” that’s about 20+ slides and you seriously wonder if there are people who are willing to watch those — maybe those who are interested in her life just to talk shit about her.
“Look at this,” Yunjin laughed, showing you a screenshot of Yoomi’s ig story. In the post, she shared how Yeonjun comforted her by buying her flowers from a nearby flower shop and took her to her favorite coffee shop so that the two of them could have a study date.
She shared that being able to maintain her scholarship was a gift and now, she’ll work hard to maintain her gpa. (and in case her followers don’t know, she’s running for summa cum laude.)
“Ugh, does she ever think that no one gives a fuck about her life story?” Yoomi’s an open book for everyone. She shares the most insane tmi’s on her social media which dilutes her personality. But what bothers you is that no one never dared to call her out and give her a reality check. Everyone in your department knows that you dated Yeonjun before she did, but no one…not even one, bat an eye on the situation. 
“I feel like only a few people do, but I do like scouring through her instagram story just to laugh at it,” Yunjin snickered. 
“You’re so mean,” you mocked. “How can you do that to sweet little Yoomi?”
“Shut up, you literally loathe her,” the two of you bursted into laughter as you two decided that it’s time to return to your class after staying in a cafe during lunch time. 
“By the way, when are you going to meet Jay again?” Yunjin asked. 
“This Saturday,” you answered simply. During your spontaneous date, you and Jay exchanged socials and numbers. He immediately sent you a text after he reached his place, and your conversation continued ever since. 
“What’s the plan?” Yunjin asked.
“I don’t have any,” you shrugged. “I’ll just think that we’re casually dating, and let Yoomi discover it herself.” 
“So, no soft-launches or instagram stories?”
“None for me. It’ll be obvious if I post Jay, but if Jay posts me?” you let out a small laugh. “And Yoomi sees it? Oh that’ll crash her.” 
Yunjin gasps, “god you’re so genius for that! You’re really taking this seriously aren’t you?”
And before you could answer, your eyes caught a glimpse of Yoomi and Yeonjun walking together towards the entrance of the department building. You stop as you observe how Yoomi’s talking non stop as she clings around Yeonjun’s arms.
Instead of answering Yunjin, you only gave her a glance before shifting your gaze back to the couple. You can hear Yunjin imitating a gagging sound which only makes you chuckle.
“I hope they get caught by our discipline officer,” Yunjin muttered with disgust. 
“I just hope they break up in the ugliest way possible,” you mumbled. 
-
When Saturday arrived, you managed to slip out of your bed at 10 in the morning. Groaning as you enter the kitchen where Jake is. 
“Woah, you don’t seem prepared for your date,” Jake teases. 
“Why did I agree to meet him during lunch time,” you complained, pouring yourself a glass of water. 
“It’s Jay that we’re talking about, who knows what he got under sleeves,” your roommate laughed. “Goodluck on your date, just keep it casual okay?”
“Yes dad,” you mocked.
You only ate a piece of bread with spread as your breakfast before returning to your room to prepare. Jay has sent you a message that he’ll pick you up at twelve noon. 
You fished out one of your casual clothes which is a soft cardigan and summer dress. You paired it with your mary jane doll shoes and kept your hair untied and flowy. After putting on some light makeup and accessories, you went out of your room to wait for Jay. You strut down towards the living where Yunjin and Jake are watching some series. 
“Oh my god, you look so gorgeous! You really prepared yourself, didn't you?” Yunjin compliments. 
“If it wasn’t for your revenge thingy, I would assume that you’re dressing to impress Jay,” Jake comments, earning a light punch from you. 
“Shut up, if he ever posts me on his social media, I should at least prepare myself right?” you pointed out, making the two laugh. 
And before the conversation could continue, you heard the doorbell of your flat ring, which indicated that Jay’s here. 
“Wow he’s early. He’s never been early in his band practices,” Jake stated. 
“He’s excited for you!” Yunjin squealed, shaking your shoulders as she pushed you towards the entrance.
You only laugh as you stop in front of the door, glancing at your roommates who only shushes you to answer the door. 
Jay stood there in his glory, and like the first time you two met — he’s rocking his signature polo shirt but this time, it’s a loose and button-down, paired with formal slacks. He styled his hair in a boyish look which complimented him more. 
“Hi,” he greets you with a smile, and before you could say anything, he pulls something from his back. “Flowers?”
You could only smile as you grabbed the bouquet from him. “Lilies! How did you —”
“Thank me later!” Jake interrupted, which made you realise that your two roommates have been watching the scene. 
“Right —” you only chuckled, “Jay, my roommates Yunjin and Jake, you probably know them.”
“Hi!” Yunjin greets lightly. 
“I hope we get some leftovers from your date,” Jake casually said. 
You only laughed at their comments before glancing at Jay. “should we get going?”
“I’ll bring back y/n later at night,” Jay excused, grabbing your hand before waving goodbye to the two. 
“Enjoy your date!” Yunjin giggled. 
“Our leftovers, don’t forget!” Jake repeated. 
You and Jay were laughing on the way down and towards his car. 
“Remind me to buy Jake some food okay?” Jay jokes as he turns on the engine of his car, driving away from your dorm in a slow manner. 
“You really owe him big time huh?” you teased, glancing at the bouquet that he gave you. You always love lilies. The arrangement was gorgeous with small daisies and baby breaths wrapped around a delicate white and baby pink wrapper. 
“Without him, I wouldn’t be able to know more about you,” Jay explained, eyes still focused on the road. “That idiot took his time to tell me that you’re his roommate.”
You only laughed, “small world right?”
“Right.”
After an hour of driving, you catched a glimpse of the place that Jay bought you. You only glanced at him who’s smiling as he turned the car towards the entrance. 
“An oceanarium, what an interesting choice,” you teased, but there’s a huge smile on your face. 
“You like it?” he asked. 
You hummed for a minute, “Jake told you that I like the ocean?”
“You do?” Jay laughs, “no, this is just a coincidence but glad to know that I brought you to the right place.”
The oceanarium was crowded when you two went to the entrance. It took you a half an hour waiting time for the two of you to enter. 
Displays of aquariums welcomed you two. Your mouth gasping at the glass ceiling where marine creatures swam freely around the space. You were too immersed with the view that you had forgotten Jay who’s walking behind you. Smiling as he watches you be in awe at the place. 
He lets you walk around the area, following you wherever you want. You didn’t even notice how every time you’re standing in daze in front of an aquarium, Jay fishes out his phone to take a photo of you. His smile never left as he placed his phone back in his pocket. 
“You know, I always wanted to be a marine biologist,” you started, staring at the stingray passing by. 
Jay leans towards the aquarium, scanning the whole place. “Really? That’s a bit far from your program.”
“Decelis doesn’t offer that marine biology,” you only smiled. “But I’m content with my program.” 
Jay only chuckled. The two of you stood there, trying to be immersed with the place. The blue waters painting you two in that hue as the faint background of the ocean waves played on the speaker. 
“Wow,” you mumbled, catching a glimpse of a school of angelfish passing by. 
Jay on the other hand, couldn’t help but to keep on glancing at you. Smiling like an idiot because he chose the right place to take you. His eyes darted on your hand freely hanging. For a second Jay pondered, but his courage won over him. 
You were a bit startled when you felt Jay’s fingers brushing against yours, and in a split second, his hands slipped onto yours, intertwining with your fingers. You glanced at Jay and he only gave you a smile, tugging your heart in a light manner. 
“Should we go to the next area?”
The two of you walked together towards the next area, a dimmed room filled with small exhibitions of marine creatures that can be found in the deeper part of the ocean. Jay can hear your soft gasps and astonishment as your head scans every display. You two walked further until you two reached a larger area. 
“Oh my god,” you muttered, quickly walking towards the huge glass that displayed a swarm of jellyfish, unknowingly you let go of Jay’s hand. You stood there, hands clasping on the glass as you watched them glow brightly under the dark blue waters, igniting a white light as it swims freely around the area. 
Jay remained standing from where he was standing, snapping another photo of you. He stared at it for a good minute, thinking how you look so beautiful despite the little light the place beams. He watched as you turned around, motioning him to come to you, which Jay only smiled as he walked towards you. 
“It’s so beautiful right?” you said, eyes never leaving the display. 
“Yeah, so beautiful” and as you looked at Jay, he was only staring at you. You can feel your face heating up, making you look away embarrassed. You can hear Jay’s soft chuckle, making you lightly punch his arms. 
“Stop that won’t you?” you muttered, embarrassed. 
“You look cute when you’re flustered,” Jay teased. 
“Shut up Jay,” you whined, walking away from the area, which only Jay followed you with a teasing smile on his face. 
After looking at every display inside the oceanarium, you two stumbled upon the souvenir shop where you found yourself staring at a small selection of keychains. 
“Found yourself something?” Jay asked, making you shift your head to him, before glancing at the keychain again. 
“Nothing, let’s go,” you said, but Jay pulls you. 
“You want the keychain? Come on, it’s cute,” Jay said, grabbing the starfish and jellyfish. 
“No, it’s okay, it’s a bit pricey too —”
“It’s on me, don’t worry,” Jay assured, and before you could even rebut, Jay had made his way towards the counter, fishing out his wallet and paying the keychains with ease. 
“Here,” Jay hands you the jellyfish keychain, smiling at you as he waved the plastic bag with the other keychain inside. 
“So that we can match,” he pointed out, and that only made you laugh. 
“Fine, if you insist,” but nonchalantly said, but deep inside you can feel your heart beating fast. 
You and Jay had a late lunch at a local restaurant near the oceanarium, enjoying a hearty meal with a side of takeout for your two hungry roommates. You two shared a few conversations and you’ve learned more about Jay — shifting the conversation to Yoomi. 
“I do know her, she was a schoolmate of mine, I was surprised that she studies in Decelis,” Jay laughs. “Why? What’s with Yoomi?”
You only bite your lips, suppressing a bitter laugh, “she used to be a friend of mine but she stole my boyfriend and yeah,” shrugging it off as you focus your attention on your meal.
“Wait, your ex-boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend?” Jay asked, appalled. 
You shrugged once again, “guess it was like that, I didn’t ask for an explanation because damn, what for right?” 
“Wow,” Jay said, shocked. He leaned against his seat as he tried to sink everything. “Damn, they’re a bunch of assholes.”
“I know but let’s just change the topic before I lose my appetite here,” you jokingly said. 
“I can’t believe it,” Jay leans against his chair. “I mean this is just an impression but I never thought Yoomi would do that.”
That’s when you bitterly smiled, “I thought so too.” you said with disappointment. 
Thankfully, Jay didn’t push further. He darted his attention to his meal instead, having you two eat in silence. You knew that bringing up your past may be an awkward thing to do during dates but the least you can do is give Jay a hint about your past relationship. 
The drive on the way back was quiet, yet comfortable. You could only listen to the music playing on the car’s stereo, a collection of old love songs that Jay had played from his phone. It was a random choice but it completely suited the vibe of the evening. You watched from the window the busy streets of the city. People walking down the streets, the opened establishments of local stores and their colorful signs, glistening just like the street lights. Everything just feels serene for you. 
Soon, you two reached your place. As Jay parked the car on the side, that’s when you realized that you just finished your date. 
“I had fun,” you blurted out. Removing your seatbelt before giving Jay a glance. “Thank you Jay for this day.”
“I’m glad you had fun,” Jay said, and the next thing you knew, his hands brushed the stray hairs that covered your face, you were a bit startled but didn’t move. 
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, and you could only blink, trying to sink in what he just said. 
“Of course Jay,” you smiled. 
Jay leans closer to you, making you close your eyes as you feel his soft lips crashing onto yours. It felt surreal for you, but your lips moved on its own as you kissed Jay back. It was soft and gentle, as if he was careful of hurting you. You can feel it that way when his hands never left your face, thumb caressing your cheeks as the kiss continued. 
And what felt like an hour broke down the minute you broke from the kiss. Catching your breath as you looked at Jay who had a soft smile on his lips. 
“Goodnight y/n,” he said, placing another kiss on your lips. “See you again?”
With that, you lightfully kissed him in the lips again. “Of course, goodnight Jay.”
And just like that, you returned to your apartment with a smile on your lips. More determined to continue your plan on getting back to your ex-best friend. 
-
Monday arrived and Yoomi cornered you in the hallway. 
“You went out on a date with Jay,” she said to you, looking more betrayed than ever. 
“How did you know?” you asked instead, knowing that Jay didn’t post you in his social media. 
“Hana saw you. Jay walked you to your apartment with a bouquet,” she added. Right. You thought. You almost forgot you have a former friend who lives nearby your dorm. 
“It’s just a date,” you shrugged casually, knowing that Yoomi doesn’t take a ‘date with Jay’ lightly. She’ll sell her soul just to have a date with Jay. 
“You knew I liked Jay from the start,” Yoomi gritted her teeth. “Have you ever heard of girl’s code?”
That’s when a mocking laughter escaped your lips, “funny that you said that, ever heard of it when you went behind my back and stole Yeonjun?”
“Yeonjun approached me first,” she explained, her tone becoming soft like she was asking for your sympathy. “And I know that it was mistake but for the first time, someone noticed me and I couldn’t help it —”
“Even if it was your best friend’s boyfriend?” 
“You were too good for Yeonjun anyway! You never prioritise your relationship with him and become too focused on your academics.” she immediately rebutted, tone shifting into  a defensive one. 
Her words made you let out a chuckle. Her reason made no sense for you, and it just fueled your anger at her. It didn’t make any sense that your academics will be the reason for you to be cheated — Yeonjun knew that from the start, it has always been your priority. You two always had study dates, and sometimes Yoomi would even join you too. So it didn’t made sense for you why that’s the reason for your life to get fucked. 
You couldn’t believe that after a year of cutting her off, this is the first time you’ll confront her. So much for a Monday morning for you. You always convince yourself that there’s no need to hear her side, but there’s a small itch inside you that wants to know — in hopes that maybe it can heal a bit of the huge damage that scarred you. 
“Is that so?” you raised an eyebrow. “Well, for your information, Jay approached me first, and for the first time ever since Yeonjun and I broke up, someone noticed me. So I guess we’re even.” 
You can see in her eyes that she was surprised. Her eyes started to water as if she was stabbed in her heart with a long dagger. And as you stare at her with a bored look, a bitter smile forms on your lips. “Why are you so bothered that I am seeing Jay? You have Yeonjun already, right?”
Yoomi didn’t say anything. She stood there frozen as you lazily shrugged your shoulders. “Yoomi, Jay was never yours in the first place right? So there’s nothing wrong with me dating him,” you explained. “And there’s no girl’s code here, because we’re not friends anymore either.”
You gave her a genuine smile before you left her there standing. You walked your way towards your classroom when you felt your phone vibrating. Grabbing it, you smiled as you received a text from Jay. Talking about good timing, he asked you to hangout with him after school. 
“Of course,” you mumbled as you sent your reply to him. 
You felt satisfied with the confrontation. Now that Yoomi knows that you’re dating Jay, you wanted to crush her even more. More dates, more show-off. And who knows, maybe you’ll get to sleep with Jay too. That’s not part of your plan but you know that it’ll leave Yoomi into insanity. 
The day moved at a fast pace, the next thing you knew, your prof dismissed the class with a few reminders. As you pack your things, Yunjin eyes on you teasingly. 
“You’re going to ditch us again huh? Is this what having a love life feels like!?” Unlike you, Yunjin likes throwing remarks, and she made sure her voice is loud enough for Yoomi to turn her head towards your direction. 
“It’s nothing, he just asked me if we can hangout later,” you casually said. 
“You’re so shameless,” Yunjin rolled her eyes making you laugh.
You can feel Yoomi’s eyes never leaving yours, and you faintly smirked as you and Yunjin exit the classroom. 
Outside the department, Jay was waiting near the benches. As soon as he saw you, Jay smiled as he approached you and Yunjin. You can feel the stares darting towards you and Jay, that’s when you remember that Jay’s kinda famous around the campus because of Arcanum. You didn’t like the attention, but knowing that any minute, Yoomi will exit the building, you let it be. 
“Hi,” Jay greets, smiling at you two. “Hi Yunjin.”
“Thanks for the leftovers by the way, hopefully we can have some again tonight,” Yunjin teased, making you elbow your friend. 
“Ignore her,” you laughed. “Let’s go?”
You and Jay began walking towards the parking lot. This isn’t the first time you and Jay had walked together inside the campus, but this is like your ‘soft-launch’ with your relationship with him, given that he was carrying your tote bag throughout the whole time. 
And if that doesn’t give you satisfaction, Yunjin sent you a message saying that Yoomi saw you and Jay leave together, making you smile as you put down your phone in your pocket. 
“You’re smiling,” Jay pointed out.
You only hum lightly, grabbing Jay’s hands and intertwining it with yours. You felt the way Jay was surprised by your actions, but let it be, his smile turning wider. 
“Just in a happy mood,” you explained. “So, where are we going?”
You found yourself in a familiar place — The Rabbit Hole, which is a mixture of coffee shop and bar lounge. It’s Arcanum’s usual spot for their gig. You’re so familiar with the place that you know that their gig starts at seven in the evening. And by seven, the place will be crowded with their fans and students, it’ll be loud, a bit chaotic but it’s a good chaos.
It made you wonder if Yoomi’s going to show up to support Jay since she never missed Arcanum’s gig. You sat by a corner table, your tote bag placed on top as you scan the menu. 
“Hi! You’re here again!” The Rabbit Hole is under Decelis University’s funding, and often one of their students would work there as part-timers. One of them being Kim Sunoo, who’s smile never fades especially when it’s a full house. 
“Hi Sunoo! I miss you,” you smiled, giving the junior a hug. “How’s work here?”
“All the same, but it was nice seeing you again! You’re my favorite customer, you know?” he complimented. 
“Thanks Sunoo, I’ll have the usual, you still remember it right?” you said. 
“Of course, orange flower cocktail and wedged fries. Just sit back and relax, because it seems like Arcanum has a special performance tonight,” the younger winks at you before leaving towards the kitchen. His words leave you wondering as you watch Arcanum set up. 
It didn’t take a while for the place to be filled with people. You can see your fellow schoolmates still in their department uniform, not even bother changing clothes. Locals and supporters also filled the area. It had become so busy that Sunoo moved you to the bar counter in which you were accompanied by their new part-timer named Riki. 
You only munched on your fries as you scanned the whole place, and near the stage you saw Yoomi, along with some of your former friends, talking as they waited for Arcanum’s performance. You watched as they laughed and cheered their colorful cocktails while you sat on the corner, eating your soggy fries and drinking your melted drink. 
You can feel a tug on your heart, watching how they had fun especially when you used to have a place there. You never felt more lonely by the counter, wishing that you brought your roommates along with you. 
A static sound interrupted your thoughts, shifting your attention to the stage where Arcanum’s main vocalist and bassist, Lee Heeseung taps the mic. He waves to the crowd and smiles, earning a few screams from their fans. 
“Are you guys ready to have fun!?” he shouted, and the crowd shouted “yes!” in response. You can see the smirk from the oldest as he glances at his bandmates. Your eyes darted on Jay who changed his uniform to a casual streetwear outfit — far different from his usual looks but he looks good. 
“I think the energy is still low hyung,” Jungwon, who’s on the drums, teases. Earning a few uproar from the crowd, which made the band laugh.
“Let me ask one more time, are you guys ready to have fun!?” This time, the crowd became louder, enough for you to be startled. You hear Heeseung laugh as he counts down from three and with that, they begin playing their song. 
From the many times you attended their gig, this is the first time you decided to watch their performance. Eyes locked on the stage as Heeseung began singing, making you realise that there’s a reason why they’re popular despite being a university band. 
The crowd was singing along, making you an odd one out who’s only nodding her head along the beat. Your eyes darted on Jay, you watched as he passionately played the instrument. He was feeling it like he was a rockstar
Damn. You couldn’t help but to lock your eyes on him. He was absolutely heaven to stare at, and it only took you this time to realise why girls like Yoomi go crazy over him. It didn’t sink into you that you’ve been staring for too long that when Jay glanced at you, you were surprised. But you saw how Jay smiled before winking at you. You can feel your cheeks heating up, unknown how Jay had this effect on you. 
Arcanum performed five songs, with a few pause for the band’s introduction and their self-composed songs. They were fun to watch. They interacted with the crowd and moreover, made them laugh too. 
“But before we move on to our next song, we have a surprise for you guys,” Heeseung started. His eyes darted on Jay, earning a few teases from Jungwon and Sunghoon.
“This is a rare occasion, so you guys are lucky to witness this one,” Sunghoon added. 
“Right! We practiced hard for this one,” Jungwon added
You were too focused with their ment that you didn’t felt Sunoo’s nudge until he did it again, you only glanced at the younger who gave you a meaningful smile. 
“Okay, we don’t want to wait for too long right? Jay, the floor is yours,” Heeseung exchanges his place with Jay who stood in front of the mic, holding his electric guitar. A few cheers can be heard but you can hear a familiar voice that keeps on screaming “Park Jongseong!”
You shifted your attention towards Yoomi who’s hopping like a bunny, shouting Jay’s full name with her whole heart. Damn. You thought. She really is not over Jay. 
“Hi guys, I’m Jay, Arcanum’s electric guitarist,” Jay introduces. “This is kinda cringe, but when you really love someone, you just want to dedicate a few songs to her right?.”
“I don’t think I did that to my girlfriend dude,” Heeseung rebuts, making the room laugh. 
Jay only chuckles, “shut up, you wrote a song about her — but anyways, I just want to dedicate a few songs to the girl who holds a place in my heart.” With that, the crowd cooed at Jay's words. 
But you felt the world shutting down. Ears muted as you watched Jay glance from where you were sitting. You didn’t notice that you were left stunned, not until you felt Sunoo shaking your shoulder out of teasing.  
You can feel it, a few people glancing at you, your heart beating rapidly like crazy. Things didn’t sink in your mind until Jay strummed the first chords of the song. 
“I love you. But I don't really show you,” the lyrics said. You watch as Jay serenades the crowd with a song that you knew very well talks about love. You can hear the cheers, and then there’s the whispers, oblivious people wondering who the special girl was. 
Jay sang the song with much sincerity, ending it with a short guitar solo which made the crowd be in awe with his skills. Screams and shouts continued until the last chord. You couldn’t help but to applause, a smile forming on your lips as you stood up from your chair. 
“Seems like they love your voice Jay-hyung,” Jungwon complimented, making the audience laugh, chanting Jay’s name which made the boy flustered. 
“Do you guys want more?” he asked, and all he received was a loud yes from the crowd. 
“Alright, for the next one, it’s a new song we composed. It's a bit chill but I hope you guys like it,” Jay said, turning around to his bandmate who immediately got the cue. 
Sunghoon started off the song with a short intro from his keyboards. It was soft and gentle, almost like a lullaby. It wasn’t until Jungwon accompanied it with drums then came along the bass and guitar. 
It felt unreal, a song that when you first hear, you’ll feel like you’re falling in love.  You were hooked by the melody, watching as Jay glanced at you before turning his attention to the crowd. 
“X-O, X-O, kiss me, don't let go,” Jay sang, smiling ear to ear as he sang the lyrics in an upbeat manner. 
It was cute, yet short, all you can hear was Jay’s vocals, sometimes harmonizing with his bandmates. You didn’t even notice that the song had ended, if it wasn’t for the crowd’s cheering, you would have been caught in daze due to the performance. 
“So what Jay was trying to say, he deserves a kiss from his special girl,” Heeseung stated, which earned a few screams from the crowd. 
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Sunghoon shouted, starting the chant which was followed by the crowd. 
You only laugh as you try to sink in your seat, embarrassed. But it didn’t help that Sunoo and Riki teamed-up to pull you up from your seat, almost carrying you as the crowd’s chants got louder the moment you reached the stage. You were left with no choice but to face it especially when the two juniors pushed you specifically at Jay who managed to get a hold of you from falling. 
You can hear the crowd teasing the two of you. If it wasn’t enough, Jay’s bandmates joined the fun too, you could only hide behind Jay’s back but Heeseung managed to pull you away from Jay. 
“Nice to meet you Jay’s special girl,” Heeseung smiles and you only chuckled. Facing him since you were left with no choice but to accept the request. “You don’t mind it right? The crowd’s curious about you because this is like the first time Jay sang during a gig, so consider yourself lucky.”
Your eyes widen at Heeseung’s words, hiding your flustered feeling by letting out an awkward laugh. Your words got stuck on your throat as you only glanced at Jay who’s like a confused cat, standing in front of you. 
“You’ll be okay with it?” Jay asked you, tone hinted with worry. 
That’s when you can feel from your peripheral vision that your ex-best friend is watching every move that you’ll do. Everything’s coming into pieces for you. Although the peer pressure is there, what would be more satisfying than seeing Yoomi’s reaction especially when she just confronted you earlier this morning?
“I don’t mind,” you answered Jay, giving him a small smile before signaling him to lean closer. 
But you wanted to tease a little bit, hence, your lips landed on his cheeks which caused an uproar from the audience. They kept on chanting that you two should kiss again, but you only shook your head while Jay was speechless. 
“Okay that’s enough pda, we don’t want to get suspended by our uni alright? Y/n is still in her uniform guys,” Heeseung managed to calm down the crowd, while you and Jay remained there frozen. You can hear Jungwon and Sunghoon’s laughters from behind, before they went near the two of you, teasing Jay who could only looked away with his ears turning red. 
After that scandalous scene, Arcanum performed a few songs and covers before they finished their gig. You watched as the band members got swarmed by a few people. They attentively took their time to take photos and signed some papers for them. They weren’t just popular for their music, but they were also kind and soft-hearted. Each interaction was genuine. 
Your eyes shifted to Jay who’s busy talking to a fan when you noticed that Yoomi was approaching him. You stopped your tracks, standing up from your seat which caught Jay’s attention, making an eye contact with you, you only gave him a quick smile which made him excuse himself from the fans — not even sparing a glance at Yoomi who wasn’t able to tap his shoulders. 
“Sorry it took a bit long, we were supposed to end around nine,” he apologized as soon as he’s in front of you. It was nearing ten and the place was still crowded, with the speakers blasting a few pop songs to hype up the crowd.
“It’s okay, I enjoyed your performance,” you gave him a smile. From where you were sitting, you witnessed how Yoomi returned to her table disappointed, which made you smile even wider. 
“I’m glad you did. I was supposed to take you to dinner but it’s getting late already.” Jay sighed in relief.
“It’s okay, I did order food while watching your gig.” you insisted.
“How about this, we can have dinner some other time.” Jay suggested, making you raise an eyebrow.
“And where’s this dinner going to be held huh?”
-
How you ended up in Jay’s apartment wasn't what you expected. And yet, you’re there standing in front of his door, ringing the bell twice, and just thinking “whatever happens tonight, happens.”
It’s been a few days since the Rabbit Hole gig. Your little stunt spread throughout Decelis — which instantly concluded that you and Jay are dating, and the only small details students don’t know are whether it is exclusively or casual. Yoomi hasn't bothered you ever since, but you know that she’s been drilling holes whenever you’re near her vicinity. You know that she’s been itching to confront you again, but because of the embarrassment that she felt that night, she distanced herself for some time. 
Then you recalled that night you first met Jay, how he asked you to go to his place and you rejected him. Now, everything has come full circle because you’re about to have dinner with him in his place — that is, if dinner will actually happen. 
Jay opens the door for you, planting a kiss on your temple as you walk inside. You scanned the whole place. It was huge, clean, and a bit cozy with the jazz music playing on his vinyl record player. 
“Your place looks nice,” you complimented. 
“Thanks,” Jay muttered, walking towards the kitchen wherein you trailed to.
You watch as Jay busies himself in the kitchen. You can smell the heavenly smell of sauteed garlic and rosemary on butter, pots on the stove boiling some pasta while there’s the sizzling sound of steak on a hot pan. 
“That looks delicious,” you peeked through the stove, eyeing Jay's skillful hands as he cooked the sauce. “Is there anything that I can help?”
Jay only gave you a smile as he prepared everything with ease, “no need to worry about dinner, just go sit on the couch, you can watch some series on my tv.”
“Well, I would rather watch you cook instead,” you pursued, leaning against the kitchen counter. 
“You’re just here to distract me,” Jay teased, eyes never left the stove.
“Maybe I do have plans on distracting you.”
Jay shifted his glance on you, letting out a soft chuckle as he stole another kiss on your cheeks before passing by you. He heads towards the corner where a stack of wine is placed. 
“Want some?” he raises the bottle, and you only nod, watching Jay open the bottle and pour on two glasses. He gave you the other one which you mumbled your thanks, taking a little sip on it, while Jay continued his cooking. 
“This is nice,” you hummed. “This is new.” 
“Never had homemade dinner with him?” Jay asked, and you knew who he was referring to.
You only shake your head. Memories rushing through your mind, thinking about the dates you and Yeonjun had. Some were grandeur, while some were plain. Most of the time you two would go to coffee shops and study your hearts out. It was quiet and tranquil, and productive too. 
Your mind shifted to Yoomi’s words a few days ago, how you were so focused with your academics — wondering if it was also the cause of your relationship’s downfall. That may be the reason why Yeonjun cheated you with Yoomi. 
You mindlessly took a sip on the wine as you pondered your thoughts, not noticing the way Jay kept on glancing at you. 
“Sorry I brought it up,” Jay blurted out, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“It’s okay, just had a little pondering,” you smiled. 
“I don’t mind listening,” Jay said, still busying himself with his cooking. 
“I think I’m the problem,” you mumbled. “It didn’t surprise me that Yeonjun left me, I’m plain, introvert, and a bit tamed — I always prioritise my studies over anything else, and maybe Yeonjun felt like he’s not a huge part of my life that’s why he left —”
“That doesn’t excuse him cheating and Yoomi going behind your back,” Jay said. “There’s nothing wrong with you, and I admire that you have your goal set. It’s Yeonjun’s problem that he couldn’t accept that.” 
You only bitterly laugh as Jay’s words felt comforting, you can hear from his tone that he was defensive about you which you were glad that he was. 
“Let’s just forget about them alright? Tonight’s about us,” Jay insisted, and you let him be. 
Dinner felt more special especially when Jay took his time plating the dish as he served it in front of you. His smile never leaves his lips as he watches you take a bite from the steak. You could only hum as you took another bite while Jay, who’s in front of you, is waiting for your words. 
“God I should just marry you,” you blurted out. “How do you even cook so good?” 
“Just some basic skills,” Jay nonchalantly said, making you chuckle.
Dinner continued on, with Jay bringing the wine you two were drinking earlier, accompanied by a heavenly molten cake that he bought from a local pastry shop. The night became deeper as your conversation became endless as you two moved towards the kitchen where the cake and wine remained while you helped Jay with the dishes. 
The dishes were on the rack but you and Jay remained in the kitchen, conversation never fading as you two shifted from one topic to another. 
“Okay, I want you to be honest,” you laughed, a bit tipsy with the amount of wine you had drank. “Did you find it cringe when I said that fate will find a way for us to meet?”
“Cringe? No, but confused, yeah a bit,” Jay confessed. “Maybe it was a mind game of yours but I was really confused how you rely on fate —”
“So you don’t believe in fate!” you pointed out, laughter becoming loud. 
Jay became quiet for a moment, “actually, I did slowly believe in fate, you know that I was supposed to pass by your building? You know, just in case I bumped into you. But it seems like fate made it easier and I found you halfway.”
That’s when you stopped, realizing that Jay’s words had become serious.
“You really searched for me, didn’t you?” you asked with a soft tone. “You really don’t want to rely on fate, won’t you?”
“Why wait for the universe to make a move when I can do it by myself?” 
At that moment the atmosphere became heavy. Suddenly, you felt tense. 
Jay’s sharp gaze remained at you, observing you in every possible way and he couldn’t help but to curse under his breath. Your eyes that were staring at him were so innocent that he wondered where’s the girl who made him chase the game. 
His hand slowly trailed to your cheeks, he watched whether you'd flinch or not – but you stood there, eyes never leaving his. 
“Tell me to stop,” he breathes. “And I won’t do it.”
Your heart skips a beat hearing those words. Your mind started to be clouded by thoughts. This is it. You thought. Doing the worst thing that will crash your ex-best friend’s heart. 
How good will it feel to finally get back to Yoomi? It was the first thing that you thought as you pulled Jay for a kiss, an action so brass but you didn’t care. You’ve waited long for this. 
Jay responded to your kiss softly. Savoring your lips, as he tastes the lingering chocolate you two had earlier. He gently grabbed you on your waist as he pushed you lightly against the counter, closing the proximity between the two of you. This is way different from the first time you two kissed, something about it felt intense, as if you two are dying to taste each other. 
The kiss broke in just a few seconds, you were catching your breath as Jay trailed his lips from your mouth down to your jawline. Peppering soft kisses which left you even more breathless. You can feel his hands playing around the hem of your blouse. Slipping underneath as you felt his hot hands carefully climbing upwards your chest. 
“Jay —” you called out but you couldn’t even bother to finish your sentence. 
“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” he assured between his kisses. 
“I don’t think we should do it here,” you managed to finish your sentence making Jay stop. 
He looked at you with wide eyes, and you felt nervous, wondering if you ruined the atmosphere. But Jay only chuckles as he sealed your lips with his. “If that’s what my girl wants.” 
He pulled you out of the kitchen and rushed towards his bedroom. As you two reach the entrance, he opens the door and gestures for you to come inside like some gentleman he is. You only laughed as you walked past through him, but you shortly let out a yelp as he smacked your ass in the process.
You hear Jay chuckle as he closes and locks the bedroom door. 
“Not funny,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. 
“Aw, come here pretty girl,” he grabs your face and kisses you once again. 
You didn’t hold back either. You kissed him back with much intensity. Wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you, the same way he grabs you by your waist. 
Jay shifted for a second to pull off his top and your eyes went wide by his action. You always knew that Jay’s physique was good, you can see it from his fitted polo shirts and tank tops, but god, seeing it up close just brought heaven to you. 
Your eyes wandered to his chest down to his abs which you unconsciously trailed with your fingers. God he’s so fucking hot. Despite the room being dim-lighted, you can still see how good his body was. You couldn’t help but to bite your lips as your touch lingered to his body. 
“Eyes up here,” Jay calls out, and as you glance at him once again, he traps you with his kiss. 
You two continued to make out, lips never leaving each other as you started to unbutton your blouse. Discarding it somewhere in the room before you placed your arms around Jay once again. As you two found the edge of his bed, Jay pulled you towards him, forcing you to sit on his lap as you two didn’t stop. 
Jay trailed his lips down to your neck, making you whimper lightly. He bites down at any bare skin, sucking and licking it that you’re sure he was leaving hickeys on it. You let him be, imagining how scandalous it will be for you to show up in class with your neck full of marks. 
You could only moan in pleasure as you let Jay continue abusing your neck. That’s when you focused on your pleasure, finding Jay’s hard on nearby your clothed cunt. You start grinding on it, trying to find friction despite the layers covered. 
“You’re eager for me, pretty girl?” he whispered huskily. You didn’t say a word, you continued grinding on him when you felt his hands on your waist. 
“Couldn’t even say a word huh?” That's when Jay’s hands shifted on your bra, removing its clasp and exposing your bare chest in front of him.
Jay didn’t waste any time, he grabs you by your waist and places you down on his bed. He traps you in between his legs, hovering over you as he stares at you lovingly. 
Something in your mind stroked you. The thought that Jay — Yoomi’s first love — is on top of you, looking at you like you’re his everything. It fueled a fire in you, you feel your pride swelling as you lightly cup his cheeks once again. That’s when it hit you — everything is real. 
“You’re nervous?” he asked,  holding your hands that were cupping his cheeks.
You shake your head as an answer. You watched as Jay removed your hands and kissed it with much tenderness. Your heart started to beat fast. The room’s temperature started to rise, but you were left there speechless as Jay leaned on to you to kiss you on the lips. 
“I’ll take care of you, don't worry,” he whispered as if it’s your first time. 
It’s actually your first time after your break-up. You lost trust in romance and intimacy after what happened. And you never thought that you'd go this far. Will it be worth letting yourself bare in front of a man? You pondered whether if it wasn’t getting back to Yoomi, would you still have sex with Jay?
You snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Jay’s touch lingered on your breast. He cups it without any hesitation, playing your nipples as he pinches your left one, making you moan. 
“Let out those sounds baby,” he said. “I need to hear you.”
Jay latches on your right nipple, sucking it harshly as you whimper under his touch. He continued to take his time playing with your breast which only leaves you breathless yet wanting more. He took things slowly but you couldn’t avoid the aching feeling between your thighs. You tried to buck your hips upward, trying to find friction on his body.
“Jay —” you called out before a sharp moan escaped your lips. Jay continued sucking your breast with hunger as his hands pinned you down from moving. 
“Be a good girl for me, won’t you?” That's when Jay unbuttons your pants, pulling it downward and leaving you in your underwear. You unconsciously close your legs, embarrassed as you feel bare in front of Jay. But you were surprised when Jay pulled you closer to him, hands gripping on your thighs as he pushed your legs wider. 
“Don’t be shy now, come on, let me make you feel good.” 
Jay said it so gently like he whispered a spell on you, you slowly spread your legs wider. Giving him access to your clothed pussy. Your breath hitches as his fingers feathered around the wet patch of your panties. Pressing his fingers to it, making you whimper. 
“You’re already wet for me? We barely even started,” he teased. 
“Jay — please,” you pleaded. “Please, let me feel you inside me.” 
As much as Jay wanted to, he wanted to savor you first. His fingers snapped through the waistband, glancing at you as if he was asking for your permission. You only nod, feeling dazed already as Jay removes your underwear, eyes locked at your dripping cunt. 
You let out a small whimper as you felt his fingers trailing through your pussy lips, gathering your wetness as he gazed at it hungrily. And it didn’t take you a second to process that he swipes his tongue on his fingers.
“Taste fucking good,” Jay cursed. “Can I?”
You mindlessly nod, and with that, Jay dives down to your warm core.
You let out a small mewl as you felt Jay’s tongue swiping through your core. Lapping at its lips like he was starving for it. Jay’s tongue harshly tasted every inch of your pussy that you couldn’t do anything but to writhe under his mouth. His hands gripped on your thighs tightly, holding you from moving as he continued to taste you. 
“You’re so sweet for me,” Jay whispered. You could only moan in pleasure as he latches onto your pussy once again, feeling his tongue inside you as his nose brushes lightly against your clit. You couldn’t help but to grab Jay’s hair, grinding against his face as you moan his name. 
That’s when you feel it. The coil inside your stomach tightening, a raspy groan escaping your lips as your hold on Jay’s hair tightens.
“J-jay, I’m gonna —” you couldn’t even finish your sentence. Too lost in pleasure as Jay’s tongue continued to abuse your insides. 
“Gonna cum for me baby?” Jay mumbled, kissing your clit as he swipes his tongue through your core. “Come on, cum.”
That’s when you felt something snapped. Jay devours you as a muted moan leaves your mouth. You can feel the tears rolling down, too lost in pleasure as Jay eats you out to your orgasm. 
Your legs were shaking from the aftermath. Eyes drowsy as you felt yourself tired from the feeling. It didn’t register that Jay had crawled over you, kissing you on the lips which you could only whimper back. You can taste yourself as you kiss him back, his hands cupping your cheeks lightly as your lips find each other. 
“My girl did so good,” Jay whispered to you, kissing you on your cheeks as he lightly chuckled.
That’s when you felt the courage. Hands trailing on his stomach downwards where his obvious boner was. You lightly palmed his bulge, which earned a groan from Jay. 
“My turn,” you told him, and before you could move, Jay stopped you. 
“You don’t need to,” he said. “Tonight is all about you.” 
“Then, let me ride you Jay,” you proposed instead. 
“If that’s what you want baby,” Jay kisses you before pulling you out of the bed. 
You two switched positions, Jay settled on his back as he watched you tug his sweatpants, glancing at him before pulling it downwards along with his boxer. 
Jay’s cock springs upwards, hard and girthy. Beads of pre-cum leaking from its tip. You curse under your breath as you wrap your hands around it, stroking it lightly, making Jay’s breathing uneven. 
It was stupid of yours to compare Jay’s dick from Yeonjun’s as you continue to stroke it. Sure, your ex’ dick was big but he was a bigger dick. And the only thing in your mind right now is that you’ll get to feel Jay’s cock inside you — and your bitch of an ex-best friend couldn’t. Yoomi can enjoy Yeonjun’s dick as much as she wants. While you? You’re going to ride Jay’s cock like there’s no tomorrow.
That’s why you hastily placed yourself on top of Jay, your pussy just enough to feather against Jay’s cock. You decided to test the waters, grinding your pussy against his cock,  a whimper escaping your lips along with Jay’s harsh moans. You continuously moved your hips in a slow motion, creating a heavy tension between you and Jay. 
You can feel his hands finding its way to your waist. You glanced at Jay who only bit his lips — you knew, he was controlling himself. That’s when you grabbed his cock, eyes never leaving Jay who watched you lustfully. You lifted your hips, aligning his cock on your entrance. Slowly, you sink into his dick, a choked moan leaving your lips as you can feel yourself full with his dick barely halfway inside. 
As if you needed some help, Jay thrust his hips upwards, making you moan as his cock slid inside you with ease. You hold onto his stomach as you try to support from the sensation. 
“So — full,” you choked as you grind against his cock, taking time to adjust to its size.
“You’re taking me so well, pretty girl,” Jay mumbled, slapping your ass which made you flinch. “Too big for your tight pussy? Can you even take it?”
You only glared at Jay as he lazily smirks at you. That’s when you started to buck your hips. Slowly you rise your hips enough for his tip to remain inside you. You slammed yourself down, making you whimper in pleasure. You continued to ride Jay, bouncing on his cock at a pace that leaves you full as his tip continued to slide your insides, stabbing your cervix that had you choking on your breath. 
“You look so beautiful from here,” Jay stated in between his moans. You can feel his hips bucking upwards, finding his own pleasure as you two meet halfway. Jay’s right hand grips on your waist to support you while his left hand trailed upwards to play with your breast, pinching your left nipple that had you arching your back. Head rolling as you fasten your pace.
And as you looked down at him, you saw Jay’s fucked-out expression. The way his hands grip tightly on your waist, his stomach stiffening as he breathy moans escape his lips. You loved the way his brows furrowed in aggression, you can feel his dick twitching inside you as you continued to ride him. 
“And you look so gorgeous from up here,” you teased, leaning towards him to plant a kiss on forehead. You lightly chuckled as Jay's expression never faltered, and if it wasn’t enough for you, you shifted to grind on his dick instead, leaving him grunting and gasping for more. 
Your hands found its way to his cheeks, lightly cupping it as you placed soft kisses all over his face — except his lips. 
“You’re — a fucking m-menace,” Jay said between his groans, making you chuckle.
He’s right. You're a menace. Because as you grind your hips to find more pleasure, all you can think about is how fucked-out Jay was, and it’s because of you. God knows what will happen if Yoomi finds out about this. 
And that’s what you wanted to happen. To show to Yoomi that you had Jay under you, writhing and gasping submissively as you continue to abuse his dick. Sex has always been an intimate moment for you, but now, all you can think about is how good your ex-best friend’s first love’s cock is. Have you known that his dick was this good, you would have agreed the first time he asked you out. 
You started bouncing once again, making Jay roll his head deep on the pillows. A loud moan leaves his lips which make you smile beneath him. That’s when you started attacking his neck, licking and biting on every spot your tongue latches to. 
But it didn’t take long for the pleasure to reach you. You let out a choked moan as you can feel your walls tightening. The feeling of your stomach coiling as your second orgasm is coming, your pace becomes sloppy but you continue to bounce on his dick, trying to chase your orgasm before your stamina fails you. 
“Need some help, pretty girl?” Jay asked, now both of his hands are on your waist as he continuously bucked his hips upwards.
But that only fueled your pride, you rested your hands on his chest, pushing him down further the mattress as you rode his cock faster. The room becomes more hot, only your soft moans and bodies slapping onto each other can be heard.
Jay continued to thrust upwards, his hands tightening as he can feel his dick twitching inside you — indicating that he’s near too. 
“So c-close, baby —” Jay chokes, eyes shut down but he never stops thrusting inside you. 
“M-me too,” you barely said. Your legs are about to give up, but Jay’s thrust had you put his dick in the perfect angle — just right on your spot. 
And as he abused your insides, you let out a choked moan, grasping on Jay’s stomach for support. 
“Jay —”
“I got you pretty girl,” Jay’s thrust became harsher, faster than before. 
Your second orgasm came inside you like a wave. You can feel your legs twitching as Jay fucked you through it. Your pussy tightening around his dick, sucking it so harshly that his thrust became sloppy. 
“T-too much —” you whispered, falling on his chest as tears started to fall. Your second orgasm hasn’t come down but Jay continued to thrust his dick inside you. 
“Hold it in pretty girl won’t you?” Jay mumbled, kissing you as he continued to thrust inside you.
Jay’s breathing becomes unstable as he continues to pound inside you. You could only hold on his shoulder as you cry through the overstimulation. Everything about you felt more sensitive, especially when Jay’s dick continued to hit your spot. 
And with one harsh thrust, Jay came inside you. You let out a moan as you feel his seeds spilling inside you. Jay sloppily thrusts inside, chasing after his orgasm as he paints your walls white.
The room became silent. Only harsh breathing can be heard. That’s when you felt Jay kissing your head as he lightly brushes your hair. His hands never left your waist but instead, he wraps his arms around your waist as he pulls you even more closer — not minding that you two are sticky and sweaty. 
You two remained in that position, he’s still inside you and you snuggly let it be. Feeling his warm cock inside you made you feel full and maybe — you’re just too tired to care about anything.
“We should clean up,” Jay was the first to break the silence. You lifted your head and glanced at him amusingly. Jay only smiles as he kisses your lips. 
“But I’m comfortable here,” you pouted. 
“As much as I am too, we need to clean you up especially that I came inside you,” he explained. 
“I’m on a pill Jay, don’t worry,” you mumbled. 
“Just stay here pretty girl,” he places you down on the bed, pulling out from you which makes you whimper from the loss.
Jay lightly chuckles as he leaves you alone to go to his bathroom.
As you lay on his bed, you couldn’t help but to think about what just happened. Your eyes never left the ceiling as the silence devoured you. 
You suddenly felt dirty, and it’s not because you can Jay’s cum spilling out of you. It disgusted you that you had sex with someone, and while you were comfortable with Jay, it just sank into your mind that you. Just. Had. Sex. — something that you had been avoiding ever since your breakup. 
You know that you weren’t ready, some wounds about intimacy still lingers inside you. But you did it, and you did it out of spite and pettiness. Which is far from the sex that you always yearn for. 
You pulled yourself up, sitting on the bed as your hands trailed on your naked body. Feeling every inch that Jay saw underneath his dim room. You were shaken by the thought that you didn’t notice that Jay had returned. 
Jay turns on the lampshade, but it was enough for him to see the panicked expression of yours. Hurriedly, he approaches you, sinking on the bed as he stares at you. 
“You’re crying,” Jay tried to swipe off the tears but you flinched, making him withdraw. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, feeling like an idiot as you aggressively wiped the tears aways. “I didn’t — I don’t know what got in me.” 
“Did I hurt you? Oh my god, I’m sorry if I was being too rough —”
“No! No you didn’t,” you assured, grabbing his hands and squeezing it lightly. You let out a deep sigh before giving him a smile. “You were gentle to me Jay. it’s just — It’s just I had a hard time accepting intimacy from others and I was just shocked that we had sex.” 
“Is it because of your ex?” he asked softly. 
You only nod, “yeah, I just lost trust in romance and intimacy but here I am.” 
Jay became quiet for a minute. Heart beating with guilt as he looks at you with a worried expression. You only chuckle lightly as you squeezed his hands again. 
“I enjoyed the sex Jay, I was just overwhelmed suddenly,” you assured once again. “If it makes you feel better, because of you, I am slowly starting to trust romance once again.” 
“I’m glad that I can make you feel safe again,” Jay said with a genuine tone. He leans to give you a quick kiss on your lips. “Come on now, let me take care of you.”
After cleaning your body and changing into some new clothes, you and Jay snuggled underneath the new sheets he put on. His arms wrapped around your body while you lean against his chest.
You two remained in that position. You can feel nothing but his heart beating at a rapid speed, making you smile a bit. Jay’s hands brushing your hair as if he was lulling you to sleep. 
“Y/n,” he called out, you only hummed in response. 
“I like you…like genuinely,” he mumbled, pulling you closer to his touch. “I just want to say that because I’m afraid that you think that I took you out on multiple dates just to have sex with you.” 
You didn’t say a word, you remained frozen as Jay continued brushing your hair. 
“I didn’t even plan this, I just want to cook you dinner,” Jay lightly chuckles. “You don’t have to say anything though. I know that you’re not ready for a serious relationship, but I’m content with what we have.” 
And with that, Jay kisses the top of your head.
“Goodnight y/n.”
The room became silent. You had assumed Jay had drifted to sleep while you remained there, eyes wide with heart beating at an abnormal pace. Jay’s words had pierced through your heart and it left you confused, wondering where your stand is now. 
It was clear that you still have issues about your past. But with how quick you were to open to Jay, you’re now thinking if some of your actions were genuine and not just because you did it out of spite and revenge. 
But you weren’t able to draw your conclusion that night. Minutes into your pondering, your eyes became heavy — drifting you to sleep. 
-
Your relationship with Jay has become a newsworthy gossip that students can talk about aside from their studies. So what happens when the two of you attend the Decelis a few days later with hickeys and bite marks all over your necks? It added fuel to the fire of course.
“I thought it’s not obvious, I worked hard to cover it this morning,” you complained. 
“It’s a bit visible but what surprised you is Jay, he is wearing it like a badge of honor,” Yunjin shared and you could only let out a sigh. 
You should be proud about it. You shouldn’t have covered it with makeup because you wanted to show Yoomi that you had sex with Jay. Jay’s shameless about sleeping with you, and you should be happy because it’ll just irritate Yoomi more, but you only felt nothing but a gut-wrenching feeling about it.
Perhaps Jay’s words still linger in your mind. The next morning, Jay acted like nothing happened, he even cooked you breakfast. Of course, there were subtle changes like the way Jay became more affectionate to you but it just drags you even more. 
How long can you stretch this plan of yours? Jay was serious about you, while you…you don’t even know where your stand is. You could only mindlessly brush your hair in front to hide your marks before exiting the girls’ restroom. 
As you enter your classroom, you can feel the stabbing glares from your former friends. You ignored the way they gave you a disgusted look as you sat on the last row along with Yunjin. 
Yoomi then enters the classroom, her feet stomping heavily like she wanted to have her presence known. You only lowered your head as you opened your Ipad to check any missed readings for today’s course.
You didn’t need to lift your head to know that you’re being talked to by Yoomi, the whispers were loud enough and you could hear the snarky remarks from them. Followed by a few laughter and comments of how ‘shameless’ you are to show up in class with indecent marks on your neck. 
It’s as if Yoomi didn’t do that too many times to count. But of course, that’ll never cross their mind.
Soon, the professor entered the classroom and the class fell into silence. You focused your attention on your professor’s lecture, tapping lightly on your apple pen to focus. 
All you want to do after is to rest and sleep even though it’s only a Tuesday. You feel your body weary and tired. All the energy from dating Jay had already drained out from you and you’re thinking of maybe ditching him just for a week.
You were walking like a zombie as you exited the building when Yunjin suddenly grabbed your arms harshly. 
“What —” you weren’t able to ask when your eye caught the scene. 
Yoomi’s talking to Jay. She’s saying something that you knew isn’t pleasant because of the way Jay’s eyebrows furrowed. 
“Should you —” Yunjin wasn’t able to finish her sentence when you snapped your arms from her touch and approached the two. 
“Jay,” you called out, catching the attention of the two. 
“Oh there she is,” Yoomi said with a mocking tone. “I was just telling Jay about the truth.”
You furrowed your forehead. “What are you talking about?”
“That you’re dating him just to get back to me,” Yoomi said with full confidence. 
You laughed in disbelief, trying to cover your nervous heart as you watched Yoomi’s face turn confused. 
“Why would I even do that? Come on Yoomi, we’re in college, not in high school. Things like that are so immature,” you smoothly said, even shrugging to make yourself more convincing. 
“You know I like Jay! What else would you date him huh!?” Yoomi said frustratedly. You didn’t expect her to immediately be frustrated about it.
“To meet new people?” you stated with obvious. “You think I’ll just let myself be depressed after my breakup? We’re just casually seeing each other, nothing more.” 
“You think I’m stupid!? Everyone knows that you’re not even ready for a relationship, so why are you suddenly seeing Jay —”
“Just stop please,” Jay rebutted, making you glance at him. 
“I know you Yoomi, just stop with the nonsense, okay? I like y/n, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Jay explained.
You can see the way Yoomi’s smile dropped. The way Jay talked to her like she’s a lost puppy being chased away. You wanted to smile, maybe smirked at her just to get back to her but you composed yourself instead.
Jay grabs your hand and the two of you leave the scene. You turned around and eyed Yunjin who only gave you a thumbs up.
While Yoomi? She stood there shocked. 
You two reached his car. As you two went inside the vehicle that’s when your heart started to beat nervously. Jay was utterly quiet and his serious expression still hasn’t melted. You gave him a glance before you looked down.
Jay quietly turns on the engine of the car. Not one of you had spoken, and the car had been in utter silence throughout the whole drive. You didn’t notice that you reached your apartment until Jay parked the car in front of it, you remained seated in the passenger seat, waiting for his next move.  
“Tell me that it wasn’t true,” Jay spoke, breaking the ice. 
“Why didn’t you ask me that earlier?” you asked instead. 
“I don’t want to give Yoomi the satisfaction that she won,” Jay clicks his tongue. “I know that you hate her so much and maybe, what she’s saying is true.” 
You could only glance at the window. Not now. You always thought that your plan would be foolproof. Everything is so casual that Jay wouldn’t suspect a thing. That the truth won’t come out and you’ll bring it to your grave. 
Yoomi really has to ruin everything. And you don’t have the heart to lie to Jay too.
“It's true,” you confessed, sinking deeper into the leather seats. 
You can see the way Jay’s jaw slacked. His hands on the wheels tightened. “So when I approached you at the bar —”
“I recognized you, you were Yoomi’s first love, and I don’t know why I let my pettiness decide that maybe, it’s not a bad idea to date you just to shove Yoomi that she can’t have you.”
“So you use me?” Jay pointed out
“Not really,” you mumbled. “Jake told me —”
“Jake knows!?”
“And he told me to not hurt you!” you shouted. “Because you’re Jake’s friend and I don’t want to hurt you! Yes, I always thought that this was a bad idea but I just can’t sit all day seeing Yoomi happy with Yeonjun while I suffer even though they’re the ones who hurt me! That’s why I dated you because you approached me first which is something that Yoomi never experienced!”
You were catching your breath as you shut your eyes down, preventing the tears from falling down. You can feel your hands becoming cold, heart beating in a rapid manner that you don’t know if it’s the nervous breakdown or just you processing your word vomit. 
“So none of what we had was true?” you froze for a moment. Opening your eyes to look at Jay who’s staring at you. You became locked in his deep gaze as his question kept replaying in your mind — it was something that you’ve been pondering ever since you had your date with Jay. 
Were you mixing your emotions with your intention? Has there been any moment where you’re with Jay that felt real and you didn’t have Yoomi on your mind? As you kept on staring at Jay you only felt nothing but guilt for hurting him. 
“I don’t know,” you confessed. “I don’t know Jay, we were supposed to be casual.”
“So you never had feelings for me? What happened a few nights ago, it wasn’t real?” Jay asked once again, voice cracking at the end. 
“From the start Jay, you knew that I’m not ready for a serious relationship,” you pointed out, tone becoming serious.
“You didn’t answer my question y/n, do you even like me?” 
And you didn’t leave your gaze at him. His eyes were pleading, desperate to get an answer from you. You frustratedly brushed your hair, tugging it harshly to keep you sane. 
“I’m sorry Jay, I just don’t know what love feels like anymore,” you answered honestly. “How can you think about whether I like you or not, when I hurt you?” 
“I didn’t care about that, use me whatever you want, I don’t care anymore,” Jay breathes, his tone becoming more desperate. “I don’t want to lose you again.” 
You only shake your head in disagreement. “Jay, you’re just hurting yourself even more. You can’t love someone who’s still broken from her past relationship. See how much Yoomi hurted me? You don’t know how much I was praying for her downfall and when you walked into my life — you were the answer to my prayer.” 
“That doesn’t matter, I wanted to help you if it’ll make you happy. Just let me be there for you —”
“Jay,” you gave him a bitter smile. “You deserve a girl that’s full enough to reciprocate your feelings. I can’t give you that.”
“You’re pushing me away?”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “The cat’s out of the bag isn’t it? There’s no reason for me to keep on seeing you.” 
“Please y/n —”
“I can’t continue doing this especially when you know the truth, it just hurts both of us.”
You didn’t let Jay say another word. You quickly opened the door of his car and ran towards your apartment. You didn’t even bother looking back at his car, you went straight towards the elevator, pressing the 3rd button rapidly.
As soon as you reached your apartment, door shutting down lightly, you removed your shoes and walked sheepishly towards the living room. It didn’t take you to reach the couch for you to break down. Knees weakening as you let the tears fall down. 
If everything was just for revenge, then why are you crying? If everything wasn’t real for you, then why does it hurt more than what Yoomi and Yeonjun did to you? You feel so tired and helpless as you sit on the ground, regretting everything that you have done. 
Maybe you shouldn't have interfered with karma and let them do their own things. Maybe if you weren’t so impatient, then you would’ve just waited for Yoomi’s downfall. Good things come to those who wait, right? The universe must really hate you so much that it backfired on you immediately. 
As those thoughts sinked in your mind, tears continued to fall. You were sobbing so hard that you didn’t hear the door opening. 
“Y/n!? We just saw Jay’s car leaving —”
Yunjin and Jake stopped when they saw you on the floor. You turned around to them and both felt deja vu. It’s the same look that you had when you caught Yoomi and Yeonjun. 
“I’m sorry Jake,” it was the first thing that you said. “I hurt Jay —”
Jake didn’t say a word. Instead, he walks towards you to pull you to a hug, making you sob harder as you can feel his hands patting your back. And as if it wasn’t enough, Yunjin approached you too and wrapped her arms around your back. Her head leaning against your shoulder as she brushes your hair to calm you down.
-
The following day, you show up to the class like it was a normal day. Thanking Yunjin’s makeup skills to help you conceal any fragments that show that you cried. The classroom was full already, the back row seat left unoccupied which you and Yunjin sat on.
“He won’t stop?” Yunjin whispered, eyeing your phone screen. There were no notifications, but your wallpaper of you standing in front of the jellyfish aquarium remained. That photo was taken by Jay. 
Jay hasn't stopped sending you a message since yesterday. He wanted to talk to you, maybe he was asking for closure or something but you had enough. — and yet, instead of blocking Jay’s number, you put your phone notifications on silent mode.
“He already did,” the last time Jay sent you a message was this morning. Saying he won’t bother you anymore because Jake told him so, but he’ll be waiting for your message. 
“You won’t talk to him anymore?” your friend asked. 
You only shake your head, “I can’t face him anymore.” 
Yunjin didn’t say a word, she simply nodded as she gave you an assuring pat on the back, making you chuckle. 
As the day continued, you couldn’t help but dart your eyes on Yoomi in the middle of the class. She's seated on the second row like the good student she was, jotting down notes on her notebook, even interrupting the professor’s lecture at any chance that she could to ask questions or give her insights. 
You always knew that her intentions of telling Jay was out of jealousy, but what did she gain from it? Did she want you to suffer more? There were multiple times that it crossed your mind why Yoomi did it to you. And this isn’t just about Jay, it’s also about Yeonjun. What does Yoomi even want from you? 
“So I was right? You did use Jay,” and maybe, your questions may be answered when Yoomi approaches you first. Not half of the class had left the room and she’s already cornering you. 
“You won’t leave me alone, won’t you?” you snarled, feeling irritated than ever. You didn’t mind that there were audiences that were watching, your old friends near the teacher’s table, waiting for Yoomi, while Yunjin stood beside you. 
“Just admit it y/n.” 
“Don’t push me Yoomi, you had the fucking audacity to approach and taunt me when you’ve done worst things to me,” you barked at her. 
“That’s why it makes sense that you used Jay, to get back to me right!? You knew from the start —”
“Yoomi, I’m telling you this now while I’m being rational, but I don’t give a fuck about you anymore from the moment I saw you at Yeonjun’s dorm, and you should stop giving a shit about me and my life. You have Yeonjun, right? And even if you two are not together, you will never have a chance with Jay.” 
“So, that makes you better than me? Because Jay likes you?” she scoffed, but you can hear in her tone that she was hurt. 
Your forehead creased, “this isn’t some competition Yoomi, you have everything, Yeonjun, our friends — and maybe wake up for once, the universe doesn’t revolve around you.” 
“You don’t understand y/n is that Jay is the only person that I had loved ever since junior high, do you know how much it hurts that no matter what I do, he just doesn’t look at me? And then you came along and suddenly he’s all over you. What did Yeonjun and Jay see in you? I don’t understand.” She vented out. 
Never would you think that Yoomi would be insecure about you. You always see yourself as a normal college girl. Decent looks, smart enough to get a decent average, and a bit introverted. There’s not much thrill in your life aside from partying on Friday night on rare occasions. You blend on the walls just like you want to. 
Yoomi is different. She’s everything. She’s pretty, always has the cutest aesthetic. Had an impressive track record of grades, and extra-curricular. She’s also an active student in Decelis, her organizations are too many to count, and everyone knows and likes her. 
Yoomi has the spotlight, then why on earth is she still after your shadow? Even after stealing everyone from you, it’s still not enough for her.
“That’s not my problem anymore Yoomi,” you told her, tone becoming colder. “It’s not my fault that not everyone find you lovable.” 
Yoomi gasped. Her eyes started to water. It shocked her when those words came out of your mouth. She has been used to praises, to people showering her with love. Yoomi thinks that she can still manipulate you, but that’s where her assumptions went wrong. Now, it was a wrong move to confront you — especially when your bottled-up hatred for her can burst out any minute. 
“That was harsh y/n,” she mumbled, trying to hold back her tears. 
“You shouldn’t have provoked me,” you angrily said. “You want me to admit it? Fine, I did date Jay for fun, and he was such a dream. The dates, his affection – god he was such a gentleman, and the sex? It was so fucking good, and he looks so fucking hot underneath me.”
Yoomi rendered speechless, mouth open as she was shaking due to shock while you only stared at her angrily. 
“And even after telling him the truth — everything, he still wants me. He still came back running after me. You think that telling him the truth yesterday will make him look at you? Congrats because he did, but that was because he was annoyed by you.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m done with him, maybe this time you can have him, since you like picking up the trash that I threw just like what you did with Yeonjun,” you gave Yoomi a smile. “Just remember this one, Yeonjun settled on you because you’re a naive girl who’ll throw herself at any guy that looks at her. You want to know our differences? I know my worth while you’re pathetic because you crave for any guy’s attention.” 
That’s when Yoomi burst into tears, loud and harsh that it made you scoff in disbelief. You only signaled Yunjin to leave, making her grab her bag as you and her watch your old friends circle around Yoomi, comforting her and shooting glares at you. You didn’t bother glancing at them as you and Yunjin walked out of the room.
Did it lift off a weight from your shoulder? No, you felt yourself more slumped than ever, thoughts were running through your mind as you exited the building. You glanced at Yunjin who placed her arms around your shoulder, shaking you lightly as you two began walking towards the university gate. 
“She’s such a drama queen,” Yunjin said with an annoyed tone. “But I didn’t expect you to be so harsh.”
“That’s light for me, I could’ve said worse,” you stated. Your attention shifted up to the sky to see that dark clouds had become to cover the blue sky. Your lips turn into a straight line as you think about how the sky is sharing its empathy with you. 
The weather in Decelis had become gloomy. The rainy season had started and the cold temperature seemed like a hug that you needed. 
Days after the confrontation, class has been suspended due to strong rainstorms. It was a perfect time for you to ponder about your senior year. Stuck inside your apartment flat with both your roommates, you found solace in the loud raindrops drizzling on the street.
You sat on the wooden chair, legs stretched on railings of the balcony. You were listening to some music on your phone with a half-lit stick of cigarette between your fingers. It was a rare case for you to smoke, only during your night outs wherein you need to sober up before going home. But in these moments, you feel like you need to take a few smokes to relieve your stress. 
“Hey,” you turned around immediately to hear a masculine voice. Seeing Jake in his hoodie and pajamas, his hair a mess and he’s not wearing his glasses. 
“Should I stop?” you asked, raising the stick, but your roommate only shook his head, sitting on the empty chair beside you and also raising his legs on the railings. 
“You seem to be lost in thoughts, like a poet stuck in a writer’s block,” Jake teases, making you laugh. 
“Wish that’s my problem,” you only let out a sigh before blowing a few puffs. 
“Why, still feel guilty about what happened?” he asked, and this time, you shake your head.
“I just wonder if Yoomi ever thought of me as a friend,” you confessed. “Or someone who she competes discreetly.” 
Jake didn’t say a word, he only stared at you as if he was waiting for more. 
“It’s not hard to wonder about it, after all, we were friends for two years and a half too. So I wonder, during those years, did she ever treat me as her friend?” 
“Well, do you regret your friendship with her?” Jake asked you. 
“It’s hard to think about it when all I can feel about her is hate,” you admitted. “Maybe my talk with her a few days just gave me a clarification that she was insecure about me, then it struck me if she ever treated me as a friend.”
“Well, friends don’t steal their friend’s boyfriend,” your roommate pointed out, making you glance at him. “That surely answers your question.” 
You didn’t say a thing. Jake’s right, that should’ve been the clue. And to think that Yoomi never brought up why you cut her off and all she can point out was that you dated Jay shows that she never valued your friendship — not even once. 
You flicked off the butt of the cigarette stick and placed it on the railings. You wanted to smoke another stick but you sat on the chair instead, deeply immersed with the rain. 
“You know, Jay is still waiting for you,” Jake opened up.
But he was only met with silence from you. 
“You know you can’t avoid everything right?” Jake pointed out. “You’re like this with Yoomi and Yeonjun, and while you had a valid reason to not confront them, Jay’s different, you left him alone in the dark.”
There it is. You hate that Jake was able to pick it up. You know that you became avoidant to people ever since you got betrayed. You kept your circle small, afraid that the more you let people in your life, the more chances they’ll hurt you.
When Yeonjun and Yoomi went behind your back, you didn’t bother asking for any explanation. Completely cutting the two off because you know that it’ll hurt more if you hear their side. And whatever shitty reason they can come up will deem useless. 
Jay on the other hand, entered your life because you wanted revenge. But before he could hurt you, you hurt him first — and for you that’s even worse. 
“Jake, I hurt Jay, I can’t even look him in the eyes without feeling any guilt,” you explained. 
“I talked to him a few days ago and he understands where you are coming from, he’s not mad y/n,” Jake added. 
“And is that supposed to make me feel okay?” you whispered. “I don’t know what to feel about everything.”
“It takes time,” your roommate pats your shoulder lightly, giving you a quick smile. “But just so you know, you don’t have to live in hatred forever, who knows, maybe you can learn to love again.”
That’s when you shifted your gaze at Jake, he only gave you a warm smile, making you chuckle bitterly. 
“You think so?”
“I just think that you’ve become happier when Jay was around,” Jake pointed out. “Yunjin can see it too, and you might not notice it because you’re too busy with your revenge, but something shifted when Jay entered your life.”
You were stunned, staring at Jake who shifted his gaze back to the pouring rain. Out of the three of you, Jake has always been the most rational one. He was like a brother to you, and while Yunjin was your chaotic other-half, Jake has always been there to watch over you two. 
“You think I deserve Jay?” you whispered, bare audible.
“I think you deserve someone who will love you so wholly that he’ll pick up every broken piece of you,” Jake replied. “And I know that Jay is that kind of guy.” 
-
Weeks passed and the passing hurt felt now like a blur to you. 
You busied yourself with your subjects, focusing on your academics and papers which was your coping mechanism back then. It was deja vu all over again but rather than letting yourself swallow in guilt, you focused your attention on something else. 
Midterm exams are done, and you managed to pass your requirements with ease despite the stress you’ve been through. Now, you feel like a normal student who’s worried about her academics again. 
The door of the classroom swung open, your professor entered it with a tense atmosphere following her. No greetings or bright smiles, making the room falter in silence. If it wasn’t enough, she slams her essay papers, loud enough to flinch the whole room. 
“I’m so disappointed,” she started. “Twenty-five years of teaching here in Decelis, never would’ve thought that you’ll do this in my course.”
The whole room falls under a few whispers and murmurs. You glanced at Yunjin who merely shrugged. 
“You know that plagiarism is a grave offense in our department? We pride ourselves in our students’ intelligence and perspective but here we are — and it’s not only a few paragraphs, but the whole paper. This is so disappointing,” she grabs the paper, a bit crumpled but you can see the huge ‘X’ mark on the paper. 
“Ms. Han Yoomi,” she declares, making you flinch. You glanced at Yunjin who’s eyes were about to pop out of its socket. Your friend grabs your friend, calming herself from doing something petty, while your mouth forms a small gap as you cover it with your hand. All you could feel was shock, heart thumping like a rabbit’s eager foot. 
“You’re one of our scholars right? Plus, you mentioned that you’re running for honors? This is so disappointing,” your professor shakes her head as she places Yoomi’s paper down. 
Yoomi stood up from her seat way too fast that the chair fell down, causing a loud thud that echoed through the room. But Yoomi couldn’t care less. “Ma’am, I can explain —”
“You can explain it to the Dean Ms. Han, you know the consequences of your action,” she cut off. “Please follow me, and the rest of you, please take your midterm papers and consider my comments for your revisions for the final paper.”
The whole room watched as your professor walked out of the door, while Yoomi stood there frozen. It took a little nudge from her friend for her to move, grabbing her bag as she walked out of the room with her head lay low. When both of them left the room, whispers began to swarm around the classroom, just like you, everyone was surprised that Yoomi would do such a thing. 
“Holy shit!” Yunjin whisper-shouted. “Holy fucking shit! I didn’t expect her to do that!”
“Fuck, what the actual fuck —” you let out a deep breathe, trying to calm yourself. “I can’t believe it, karma’s fucking real.” 
Yunjin only laughs, slapping your arms as you try to conceal your laughter. “No, because that was fucking dumb of her, I can’t believe that she would do that.”
“Right! She always pride herself in writing papers even though her writing fucking sucks, but she plagiarized!? That’s so fucking stupid of her.” 
You know that it was mean. Laughing at someone’s mistake that may cause her academic disruption, but after everything that happened to you? Yoomi will never have a chance to get past an offense that she stupidly did. 
Karma’s finally after her and you know the result of offense. If no appeal were done, she can get suspended and worst — be removed from receiving honors. All her pride and dreams came crashing down in just a glimpse. And the good thing about it was that it’s all her fault. You didn’t have to raise a finger for it to happen. 
You didn’t have to do anything. It slowly sinked in your mind that karma will eventually get back to her. It slumped you that if you had the patience to wait, you didn’t have to involve an innocent person in making your ex-best friend miserable. 
You should be happy that karma got Yoomi, but it was only a passing adrenaline of satisfaction that Yoomi’s idiocracy got back at her. If this is what you’ve been praying for, why does the guilt remain on you?
It’s been weeks and yet, he’s still on your mind. You wonder, is he waiting for you? You hate confrontations. You were never good with words and dealing with people, but you couldn’t help to think about Jay and how you left him in the dark. You know what you have to do. 
You found yourself in front of his apartment door. Hands shaking and heart beating at an abnormal pace. Jay had agreed to talk to you, and that means there’s no turning back now. You pressed the doorbell and after a few rings, the door swung open. 
You stood there frozen, seeing Jay in a large t-shirt and sweatpants, hair disheveled like he just woke up. Your words got stuck on your throat, an awkward atmosphere hovering between the two of you. 
“I —”
“Come in,” he said with a soft tone which made your heart skip a beat. Your foot moved on its own and entered his apartment, removing your shoes as you Jay waited for you. 
“So,” Jay started as soon as you two reached the living room, clearing his throat. “What is it that you want to talk about?”
You only fiddled with your fingers, looking down because you can’t even face Jay. “Yoomi, got suspended today for plagiarising her midterm paper.” 
“What?” Jay asked, disbelief. 
“She got a two week suspension and got stripped off from her scholarship,” you added. “I should be happy because karma finally got her, but somehow it didn’t feel like I won.”
That’s when you look at Jay, confused yet waiting for you to say another word.
“Because I hurt you Jay. I was so impatient for Yoomi’s downfall that I resorted to using you. I dated you because I was petty because you’re a big part in Yoomi’s life but she can’t have you — but I can.” your hands become shaky, you are harsh with your fingers as you find yourself catching for breath. 
“And I’m sorry because you were so genuine about dating me, even when I told you that I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship, you understood where I am coming from but all I did was hurt you,” you took a deep breath. 
“y/n,” Jay called out but you chose to ignore it. Glancing at him as your eyes started to water. 
“And I understand if you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry if I ran away — I always ran away from everything, even from Yeonjun and Yoomi, I didn’t bother asking for their explanation but you…you deserve it Jay.”
That’s when Jay approached you, pulling you to a hug that only made you cry. You punched his chest, trying to push him away but he only tightened his hold on you. 
“You should be angry but why aren’t you? Why!?” You managed to stitch some words, and instead of answering you, Jay brokes out from the hug, caressing your cheeks as he looked at you fondly.
“I’ve known you for so long,” Jay confessed. “You’re always been with Yoomi. I know Yoomi, we’re from the same town but…she’s just not my type.” 
You only stared at Jay, eyes widened.
“You know me?” you asked, shocked. 
Jay only laughs, “face? Yeah I know you, but name and other things? Not really. But it’s not hard to remember the girl who looks like she doesn't want to be there whenever she attends our gig.”
The comment made you stifle a laugh, making Jay smile. “I found you cute and pretty, and although it hurts that you’re always on your phone during our gig, I still find myself looking at you. You completely contrast’s Yoomi’s loud cheer, that’s why I was drawn to you.”
“I wonder, “when will she be able to look at us?” then I discovered that you had a boyfriend, and not gonna lie it crushed my heart.” Jay jokingly said. “Then you stopped showing up to our gigs, and Yoomi was with another friend. I thought, maybe you were spending your time with your boyfriend, and maybe I should stop this silly crush of mine.” 
You became quiet. Thoughts became afloat. It all makes sense now. From the start, Yoomi never really had the chance with Jay. All the times she told you that Jay kept on glancing at her was just her assumption — Jay has been looking at you all along. 
His words, you recall the way Jay told you that he doesn’t want to lose you again. You thought that your first meeting was at the bar but no, he has been looking for you for years now. 
“So, when you approached me at the bar —”
“It was like fate telling me that, “there she is, this is your chance!” And I didn’t want to waste it.” 
“But I hurt you Jay,” you pointed out. 
But Jay merely shrugs. “No, from the start, you made it clear to me that you didn’t want a serious relationship, I respected that and I was happy with what we had. I was happy just being on your side.” 
Tears started to fall from your eyes again, you couldn’t help but to cry making Jay pull you to his arms again, wrapping you gently as he pats your head.
It couldn’t sink in your mind that aside from your roommates, there is someone who is willing to be by your side despite all you’ve been through. You always thought that you’re undeserving of finding other people to love you, but it just went to your mind that meeting Jay wasn’t a way for you to get back to your ex-best friend — it was a way for you to find another person who will love you again. 
“I hate you, you were supposed to hate me for what I did,” you said between your cries. 
“How can I? Your reason is valid though, and if you told me from the start, I would’ve done worse, maybe kiss you in front of Yoomi just to spite her.” Jay joked, which led you to jabbing his chest, he lightly scowled as you glared at him. 
“I’m serious,” you told him. 
“And I’m also serious,” Jay lightly cups your cheeks, swiping any teardrop from your eyes. “And I’m not saying this because I like you, but because it’s just some petty revenge right? It’s not like you’re planning their murder.” 
“I could if murder was legal,” you spat. “Would you still join me?”
And instead of saying anything, Jay kisses the tip of your nose, “anything for my pretty girl.”
“I couldn’t believe you,” you mumbled. “After everything, you’re still here for me.”
“How can I? I’ll be with you at any chance fate will give me.”
“Oh, suddenly you’re spiritual enough to believe in fate?” 
“You taught me how to.”
Silence swallowed you two. You only stared at Jay who’s gazing at you fondly. Then he smiles, grazing your cheeks with his thumb.
“I love you.” Jay confessed. 
Your eyes widen by his words, staring at him speechless as he never left his gaze at you. 
“I love you so much that it didn’t hurt me that you used me, it hurt me that you had to resort to that plan because you were hurting so much.” Jay explained. “And if you give me a chance, I’ll show to you that you can still be loved, and I don’t care if you’re still broken by your past, I’ll help you gain your trust to love again.” 
You only let out a sigh, glancing at Jay who’s eagerly waiting for your answer. That’s when you lean against his cheeks, smiling as you start, “thank you Jay, for showing me that I can still be loved.” 
“Maybe meeting you wasn’t a way for karma to tell me to get back to Yoomi, but it was fate’s way to tell me that I can still learn to love someone. And while I was stupid to be focused too much on my anger, I forgot that I should’ve used my energy reciprocating your feelings to me.”
“And we can take it slow, I’m in no rush —”
“No Jay, I was just too stupid to realise that I’d fallen for you, that there were moments that felt genuine for me, and I want us to be more real, without thinking about Yoomi or getting back to her.” 
You saw how Jay slowly sank-in what you just said, eyes widening as his hold to your face tightens. 
“Are you serious?” he breathes. 
You only nod as a response, letting out a soft laughter as Jay’s expression brightens more. He could only let out a raspy gasp, words stuck on his throat as he pulled you closer for a hug. 
“I can’t believe — fuck, I'm just happy – god, I can’t believe this,” he said, choking in his own words.
“I’m sorry if it took me long.” 
“You’re worth the wait,” Jay whispered. ,
Breaking from the hug, Jay found himself staring at you. You only let out a small chuckle as you found yourself staring at Jay’s eyes. He lightly brushes your hair before planting a kiss on top of your head, then sealing your lips with lips — an action that tugs your heart with ease. You could only kiss him back, finding yourself smiling between it. 
Because the first time ever since you got your heart broken, you found yourself genuinely happy. 
-
Epilogue. 
“Congratulations to us!” Yunjin hugs you tightly, making you chuckle as you hold onto your graduation cap tightly. 
Senior year passed by with ease. You found yourself juggling your thesis papers and internships along with course subjects. There were gray days and you lost count of the breakdowns that you had throughout the year, but here you are, officially graduating with honors.
“Congrats love,” Jay said, handing you a bouquet of lilies which made you smile. 
“Thank you love,” you said before planting a kiss on him.
Your relationship with Jay was a second chance for you. Although you two still kept it unlabeled in the first few months because there were parts of you that were still struggling to open up to him, Jay was ever patient with you. 
But now, you two became official, and you look forward to what waits for you two outside college.
“Congrats to you two, I know you two can make it,” Jake said, handing you two bouquets of flowers which made Yunjin fake cry. 
“I can’t believe that we’re no longer roommates! I’ll miss annoying you two,” Yunjin said between her fake sobs, slinging her arms to you and Jake and pulling you two for a hug.
“You’re so dramatic,” you said, but your smile widened as you hugged Yunjin back, which Jake did the same. 
“But before that, I have something to spill!” Yunjin excitedly said, breaking out from the hug. 
“Do you guys know why Yoomi isn’t here?” she asked, and you only shrugged. 
Now that you think of it, throughout your senior year, Yoomi still managed to get through her academics but there is wariness around her now because of her case. She didn’t bother you anymore either. Senior year became a peaceful year for you. 
“Just tell us already,” Jake impatiently said, making Yunjin let out an evil chuckle, which meant that her story is diabolical. 
“Apparently, she wasn’t able to graduate because the academic coordinators had learned that she slept with our Dean.”
“What the fuck —”
“Are you serious!?” you shouted, “no fucking way, where did you learn that?”
“Her ‘friends’ of course,” Yunjin smirked. “Apparently, that’s the reason why she was able to maintain her scholarship. They only investigated it during graduation season and had confirmed it a few days ago.”
“So, she wasn’t able to graduate?” Jake asked. 
“And she’s expelled from Decelis, she can’t continue her studies here,” Yunjin added. 
“Now that’s much worse,” Jay added, but a soft chuckle escaped his lips. 
“And she fucking deserve it,” you mumble. “She finally got her karma.”
“Guess the universe has answered your prayers.”
You only stared at Jay, a soft smile curving on his lips, which made you smile wider. “I guess they did.” 
Everything now felt light. The thorn in your heart was gone. You finally graduated with honors, your roommates are there for you, and your ex-best friend got what she deserves. 
“Hey,” you called out Jay, shifting his attention to you. His right arm instinctively wraps around your waist. 
“Do you need anything?” he asked, and you only shook your head.
“I love you,” you said.
Jay scoffs in disbelief, but the smile on his lips becomes wide as he leans into you for a kiss. “I love you too.” 
Of course, you had Jay by your side. You may have been praying for karma but it was fate who heard your prayers. Despite the mishaps you’ve faced, you were still thankful because you still found someone who will love you wholly.
4K notes · View notes
joelsgoldrush · 11 months ago
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“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k
worst!logan howlett x f!reader
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SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.
A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.
** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.
*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)
**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)
special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever
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The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.
Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.
Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 
Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 
Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.
The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 
You:
cutie patootie alert
there’s this really handsome guy at the bar
i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before
i think i’m in love with him
my night just got a 100% better
Allison:
age
what does he look like
is he bald?
You:
he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here
brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 
i didn’t stare at him for too long
otherwise that would’ve been very weird
and no he’s not fucking bald
that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 
Allison:
so you’re dating retired now
get it grandma!
You:
oh fuck you allison 
Allison: 
it’s okay girl we all have our flaws
just make sure it’s nobody’s father
wait it’s not mine right?
You:
nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it
Allison:
bitch 
Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.
“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.
The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”
Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”
Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 
Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”
The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.
���Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”
Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 
“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”
Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.
“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 
“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”
(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)
He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.
“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”
“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 
“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 
You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.
“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”
Yeah… that you knew.
It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.
As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.
“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.
“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”
“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”
For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”
“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.
“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”
His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”
“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”
“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”
“Look, Wolvie. I–”
“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”
“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”
You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.
Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”
The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”
“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”
“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”
“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”
A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”
“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”
“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”
“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”
Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”
“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”
“Me neither.”
“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”
You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”
Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”
But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”
The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.
(But you aren’t.)
His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”
“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”
Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”
“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”
“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”
As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.
What the fuck had just happened?
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“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”
She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”
You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”
After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.
Your savior complex strikes again!
It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 
Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”
Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.
“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”
“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”
“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”
“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”
You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”
“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”
“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.
Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.
“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 
“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”
“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?
“You sure?”
“Affirmative.”
“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”
“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”
“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.
“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”
“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”
Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”
Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.
“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”
Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”
“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”
“What? No.”
“Why not? She’s cute.”
Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.
Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”
“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.
After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”
You could die at peace.
“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”
“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”
“Now why would you think that?”
“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”
“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.
“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”
“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”
“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.
He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”
Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”
His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”
This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.
“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.
“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”
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You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.
Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.
Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”
You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”
“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 
Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”
“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”
“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”
Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”
“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”
“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”
“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”
When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”
“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 
Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”
“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”
From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”
“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”
“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”
“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”
“Go fuck yourself, will you?”
“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”
Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?
Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.
“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.
You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”
Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”
You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”
He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?
“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”
He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 
“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”
You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”
The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”
“I just... I want to understand you better.”
“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”
He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”
With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.
“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”
“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”
The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 
Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”
Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”
But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”
Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”
You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”
He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”
“Should I give you some space?”
That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”
“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”
“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”
“God, do you ever shut up?”
You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.
“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 
“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”
“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”
“Am I that easily replaced?”
“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”
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Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.
Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.
He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?
It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.
Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?
“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.
“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”
The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 
“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”
“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”
You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.
“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”
“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”
“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”
“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”
“Careful.”
“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”
You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”
His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”
“Get your hands off her.”
Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 
“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”
“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”
Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 
The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”
“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.
“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.
“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.
“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”
“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”
The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”
Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”
“Don’t. Now is not the time.”
“I was protecting you.”
“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.
Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”
You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”
“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”
“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”
His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”
“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”
You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 
“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.
“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”
In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.
“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”
“Right here? On the counter?”
“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”
“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”
“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.
“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”
“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”
“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”
“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”
His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”
“L-logan–”
“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”
You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”
With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 
“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”
He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 
“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”
“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”
Who had given him a damn script for this?
The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.
Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”
And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.
“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”
You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”
“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”
Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”
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part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”
dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
12K notes · View notes
peachsayshi · 4 months ago
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₊ ⊹ . ݁ THE KING  ₊ ⊹ .
(boxer!sukuna x reader)
⊹ tags: ryomen sukuna x female reader; childhood friends; character mentions: uraume - satoru gojo; unresolved tension; sukuna is oh so in love; fluffy but a mix of angst/smut/fluff; domestic; non curse au; p in v sex; unprotected sex; dry humping; making out; oral sex;
:about: you've known sukuna before he was a world boxing champion, when he was just a scrawny kid who used to hide behind your legs when you were both in kindergarten. sukuna is growing tired of the fame and fortune, and all he really wants is to fall into the arms of the one person who he's always considered his home.
this fic is one shot. I'll happily answer any lore questions regarding boxer!sukuna x reader, but there will not be a part two or more parts of their story. It is a standalone.
wc: 19K+
Sukuna steps out of the shower, his body wound up in a tight coil after the night's fight. He presses the bridge of his nose together to relieve his throbbing head, but his brow is searing with pain. When he opens his eyes he catches a reflection of his self in the bathroom mirror- a split on his bottom lip, a cut on the arch of his right eyebrow and a slight bruise on his left cheek. 
It's rare for him to look this battered after a match. 
He's been untouchable for years, he's almost forgotten what it's like to take a few good hits in the ring. 
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" 
His eyes flicker up toward Uraume, who seems to have appeared out of nowhere.  
He shakes his head at his manager. "Nothing happened, I won. Isn't that a good thing?"
Uraume narrows their gaze, sharp like a sly little fox. They can read Sukuna like a book, but Sukuna chooses to play ignorant and brushes off their knowing stare. 
He knows that the inquisition isn't about the sponsors, the money, or the win. 
He also knows that Uraume never asks questions that they don’t know the possible answer to. 
Thankfully, his manager just sighs. 
"The limo is outside waiting to take you to the party," they state, their heavy exhale indicating that they know Sukuna won't own up to what they are trying to prod out of him. 
"Fuck," Sukuna grumbles. The towel hangs low on his hips, and he throws the one that is around his neck onto the ground. He steps outside to the locker room and proceeds to change. He dries off, puts on his boxers and picks up his black t-shirt before pulling it over his bare chest marked with ink. He then tugs on his jeans, and secures his belt around the waist. "Do I have to go to that?" 
Uraume shrugs, "Don't you want to parade your big victory over Satoru Gojo to the rest of the world?" his manager adds, slipping both hands into their pocket as they stride casually toward Sukuna who is merely trying to gather the rest of  his things. 
The last touch is his signature silver chain necklace. He hooks the accessory around his neck, while mentally preparing himself for the crowd waiting for him outside. For the voices that would be screaming out his name, and the obnoxious paparazzi who can't seem to grasp the concept of personal space. 
They all gawk at him like he's a endangered animal at the zoo.  
His chest seizes at the thought. 
He used to gloat over being in the spotlight. He took to stardom with an extreme sense of pride, but the thought of it right now just makes his skin crawl uncomfortably. 
The only thing that Ryomen Sukuna wanted at this very moment, is to go home in fucking peace. 
He’s given the fans and the world what they wanted. 
"Little shit got what was coming to him," he blurts out in response to Uraume. "It'll take him a while to lick his wounds and get over his broken pride..." 
Uraume chuckles, "and I was worried that he might have actually had an advantage over you..." 
Sukuna swallows the sudden lump in his throat. 
God he was fucking tired. His whole body is aching, begging him to get some much needed rest. He hadn’t trained this hard in a long time. The strict diet, the isolation, the strenuous days in the gym and in the training ring slowly started filtering into him in doses. 
"Almost," he admits quietly, a little bitter over the reality of the situation that he was close to losing. "He's good for his age. Really good actually." 
Uraume's face falls at that. "You don't sound like yourself, my king," they tease half-heartedly, addressing Sukuna by yet another title which he earned in the ring. 
"The King", "The Beast", “The Champ”, “Monster of The Ring”…
There was a time when he was younger, when the fire for the fight burned inside him with such intense conviction, that he found dignity in the titles that he's earned from every match. The thrilling sensation of him standing in the middle of the ring, his hands raised with victorious joy as he looked down at his opponent while the crowd would cheer for him like he was a figure of the divine, used to mean a great deal to him. 
But those titles feel…hollow. An old skin which Sukuna unknowingly shrugged off without even realizing it. 
"I'm just exhausted," he breathes with a hint of frustration, giving Uraume a reply after allowing his mind to drift for a few seconds. "I've got a raging headache and my shoulder is killing me." 
He slings his bag over his good arm, before turning to face his manager. 
The pair walk down towards the end of the hallway, and Sukuna can already hear the muffled voices from the press that have slowly gathered inside. He elongates his spine naturally as he holds a domineering pose. He quietly huffs out a breath and tries to steady the uneasiness coursing through his veins. The second the press lay their eyes on him, they stampede towards Sukuna like dogs off their leash. A flash of white and blue flickers around him, disorienting him for a single moment. 
"Hey, champ! How does it feel to knock out Satoru Gojo after everything he said this season?" 
"Way to prove that you're still The Beast of the Ring! What's next for our King?" 
"You've held your championship title for ten consecutive years! How do you go up from here?"
"Sukuna! Sukuna! Is it true that you've just locked in a multi-million dollar deal with Nike?"  
Uraume steadies the crowd, protectively standing in front of Sukuna as they gesture everyone to calm down. 
Despite the sheer difference in their size, Uraume has a natural way of commanding a room. 
That's one thing Sukuna has always been grateful for regarding his manager; Uraume always looked out for his best interest first.  
"Hello, everyone," they politely speak, their voice calm and pleasant. "While we appreciate the enthusiasm; our champion, Ryomen Sukuna, will only be making a single statement. He's had a long night and needs his rest," they announce, before looking over their shoulder and giving Sukuna a nod of approval to say what he needs to say. 
The man is thankful for Uraume every single day. He already informed them earlier that he wasn't interested in any post-match interview or conversations with the press, and Uraume happily obliged by accepting the privacy that he desperately needed. 
Sukuna tightens his grip around the gym bag over his shoulder. He stares at the small audience before him before clearing his throat to speak. "Young fighters like to run their mouth. I know because I used to be one of them. It's easy to be all bark and no bite. But in my case, I came out teeth first-" he states with a patronizing tone, noticing the press eagerly hang onto his every word and even laughing at his snide remark. 
They are waiting for a brutal comment from the badass himself, for him to add the cherry on top of all the shit-talk he’s already dished out. 
But Sukuna acknowledges that there is no place for it now. 
He doesn't need to add more to the hurt he's already caused to Satoru Gojo. 
Everything was settled in the ring, and now it was over. 
"However, I have to admit that this was one of the best fights of my career. I had fun. He's been a thorn by my side but I respect Satoru, and I know he has a brilliant career on the horizon. That's all I have to say about that for now. Have a good night." 
He steps away from the press, who trail at his feet like a pack of rats rattling off question after question as Uraume tries to console their demands. His manager delays their footing, all the while Sukuna finds the rest of his entourage at the arena exit. 
A string of bodyguards help him get through the second crowd of loyal fans who have gathered. They are waving phones in the air, begging for photos and videos. Sukuna obliges with a few, trying his best to fight off the shakes that's starting to make his hand tremble slightly. People lift up their shirts, flash their cleavage and pull out posters, bras and clothes for him to sign. He does so, his signature faltering from a clean string of letters to a fast doodle of his name. His fans offer him flowers, art, and mementos which he takes, and whatever extra he can't carry he hands off to one of his guards. When he's finally had enough of giving himself to the fans, he bids everyone a wave as his bodyguards escort him to the private parking lot in the back of the arena. 
Sukuna doesn't even realize how hard his heart had started hammering until he's embraced back into the quiet again. He feels incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin, and he isn't sure if it's the apprehension or the adrenaline wearing off from the fight. The phone in his pocket buzzes, probably Uraume wanting to make sure he's made it safely to his vehicle, but he can’t bring himself to answer the call. 
"Sir," one of his bodyguards states, "There's a VIP who is expecting to see you..." 
"So?" Sukuna scoffs, the black Mercedes in the distance a sanctuary. "I don't want to fucking see them." 
"Well, you see, they insisted. They weren't taking no for an answer." 
"And you would be shit at your job if you just let them roll over you like that," Sukuna begrudgingly replies. 
Sukuna wasn't particularly fond of the VIP guest lists. A majority of them were people who wanted to fawn over him, or simply weasel their way into his pants. The other half were people with deeper pockets trying trying to bargain him into fixing fights so that they can win big bucks on their bets.
Sukuna did not have the time or patience for the latter, and even the former as well. 
Especially tonight. 
"Actually, Sir, she's waiting for you as we speak-" the bodyguard stammers, having to look up when he addresses Sukuna. 
The champion stops abruptly to give him a puzzled stare and a piece of his mind over his bodyguard’s stupidity, but his attention is sharply drawn back to the car when he notices a figure step out of the Mercedes. 
You're wearing a denim skirt, a fitted white top and a pair of black boots. Sukuna’s heart skips a beat, noticing that your hair looks a little different from when he last saw you. A sparkle of silver glitters on your neck that matches his own chain, and you beam at him with a bright smile that steadies his soul.
  The click of your heels echo a little louder from the distance as you approach him, waving your fingers delicately in his direction to say your first hello. Sukuna's feet moves faster than the rest of him. He drops his bag off his shoulder, the gifts in his hands splay across the concrete ground and he scoops you up in his arms before spinning you in the air the second he wraps his arms around you. 
You giggle at his greeting, your body trapped in a blanket of muscle and cologne. Your fingers thread between the strands of his red hair, tears pricking your eyes at the sight of your best and oldest friend. 
Sukuna squeezes you tightly, "they should have just told me it was you by name," he exhales with a hint of annoyance, then carefully places you back down to rest your feet on the ground. 
You laugh under your breath, "Don't worry, I gave them hell for it. I told them that I'm the only VIP who mattered considering I have been on that list the longest...." 
You try to loosen your grip but Sukuna tenses up, so you ease back into his hug. 
He didn’t want to let go just yet. 
And truthfully, neither do you. 
"Hi, princess," he whispers in your ear, his voice deep and thick with fatigue. 
"Hey, 'kuna" you reply softly, your fingers curling around the back of his neck, as your heart beats heavily against his now relaxed chest. 
₊ ⊹ .
The light from the car's backseat illuminates Sukuna's ruggedly handsome face. You cup his jaw between your fingers, and lightly trace your thumb over the cut on his swollen lip. Your eyes track upward and you wince at the gash across his brow. 
"He got a few good hits on you didn't he?" you point out, not as a question necessarily but more as a statement of the obvious. 
"A few good hits doesn't mean shit..." 
"When was the last time you got hit this bad in the ring?" you press. 
"I fight for a living, someone was bound to land a punch someday. Besides, it's not a concern. I had my good luck charm tonight without even knowing it..." he responds with a wolfish grin. 
You jab him playfully in the chest. "You're not made of steel you know? You had me concerned for a second..." 
"I roughed him up too," Sukuna states with a pout, "you're all acting like he walked away completely unscathed..." 
He slings an arm over your shoulder, his strength pushing your body weight to lean closer against his side. You shake your head with disapproval as you press the button to switch off the light above you both. 
The city moves past you in a haze, but you can't stop taking in the man before you. 
Ryomen Sukuna. 
The first time you met him was on the playground of your old kindergarten. You were all outdoors, and you noticed that these two bigger kids were knocking him around. The kindergarten teachers weren't anywhere to be seen. At the clear imbalance of power and with your sheer sense of goodwill, you decided to go over there and help. 
Sukuna had just joined your class only three weeks before that. He was the smallest kid, and had a hard time keeping up with everyone else. Everyone made fun of him and called him "chili crisp"  because of his hair. They teased him constantly for how he looked, how he dressed, and how he spoke and simply refused to play with him. 
Being young and impressionable, you never engaged. But you didn't do anything to help Sukuna either. It made you ache seeing him treated this way, and this time you weren't just going to let it slide anymore. 
Sukuna did nothing to deserve this treatment in the first place. 
However, despite his small stature, Sukuna was a fighter even then. 
He kept getting up even if it meant that he would just be shoved down once again. 
You remember walking up to both those kids and grabbing them by the collar. You yanked them off, placing yourself in between them and Sukuna before scolding them both for their terrible behavior. 
"I'm gonna tell!" you squealed with a furious point of your finger, threatening them with snitching words. "And if I ever see you hurt him, I'm going to make sure everyone knows how bad you are! And you’ll get into so much trouble with the teachers!”
You sharply kicked them both in their heels, and watched the kids scamper off, a little more intimidated now that someone they deemed as an equal threat entered the playing filed. Once they were gone, you turned toward Sukuna who was planted on the concrete ground. He was wiping away his snotty nose and trying to hide his tears. 
You scratched the back of your head nervously, your throat all itchy and tight from the sight of him. 
"You're-you're not a chili crisp," was all you could think of telling him in that moment. You gave him a small but kind smile, before offering him both your hands and helping him on his feet. 
He was a whole head and shoulder shorter than you were back then. His clothes barely hung onto his body. He had to fix up his t-shirt and readjust his shorts. 
"I know that," he answered with irritation, and a scowl that never seemed to have left him. 
You assisted in brushing the dust off him. 
"Your name is Ryo-men Su-ku-na?" you asked, breaking down the pronunciation of his name to make sure you said it correctly. 
He nodded his head quietly. 
You gave him another tender grin, and reached out for his hand before introducing yourself. 
"I know who you are, I'm not stupid." 
You frowned at his sharp response. "I never said you were." 
The two of you stood there facing one another in awkward silence, unsure of how to proceed from the moment. 
You shifted your weight from one foot to the next, kicking a random little rock on the ground. "Those kids are stupid." 
"Yeah, they are." He grumbled through gritted teeth. 
"So, if I'm not stupid and you're not stupid, why don't we be friends?" 
Sukuna's eyes widened slightly at your words, like he couldn't believe what you said. 
"Friends?" 
"Yeah!" you squeaked with a little more excitement. "You'll have someone to sit next to and play with every day!" 
He nervously gripped the hem of his tee. 
He never gave you a real response, but the next day he showed up and took a seat right next to you in class.
You were both six years old, and have been insuperable ever since. 
₊ ⊹ .
You press your cheek against his broad shoulder, and Sukuna sighs as his body melts into the leather seat underneath him. His hand gently rubs your own shoulder, with the two of you sitting in silence together as you have done many times before. He instructs the driver to take you both back to his penthouse, disregarding some after party that he's expected to attend. 
At the call, your heart flutters with anticipation because it was a clear sign indicating that he wanted to be alone with you. 
You shivered thinking of the last time that happened. 
It's hard to believe that this version of Sukuna co-exists with the person you've known for a majority of your life. 
The day after he sat next to you in kindergarten, everything changed for the better. 
Sukuna still grimaced at everyone else, but kids no longer picked fights with him and he had a warming smile that was reserved for you alone. 
Whether in class or outside of school, you both spent every spare moment that you could together. You were glued to the hip like two peas in a pod. Your parents adored him, doted on Sukuna despite him resisting their affection. It was only one night, when he was having yet another sleepover at your place, where you finally asked him how is he able to hang out with you all the time. 
Sukuna revealed a truth that broke your heart entirely. 
“Here is better than being home. Usually it's just me..." 
"Just you?" you whispered innocently, "but your mom and dad?" 
You watched him shrink into his blanket with uncertainty. "Don't know. I live with my Grandpa. He works a lot..." 
It's only later in your life where you learnt the full story. 
Sukuna’s parents abandoned him, leaving him with his grandfather to pursue reckless adventures together. At the time Sukuna was only three years old. His grandfather worked hard to provide for the boy, but he was an aging old man and didn’t expect to be responsible for such a young child. Sukuna's grandfather always showed deep gratitude to your parents for helping out and providing Sukuna with another safe space that gave him some much needed stress relief on his end. 
His daughter eventually returned, in tow this time with Sukuna’s half brother Yuji. His dead beat dad was gone for good. But by then Sukuna was already fourteen. 
He’s always had a complex relationship with his family, but things seem to be better with his brother. The two of them could pass off as identical twins, it was almost scary how alike they looked. 
You loved Yuji; he was a living antithesis of his older brother. Always perky, smiling so bright it’s like the sun follows his footsteps. 
Sukuna, on the other hand, carried the shadow and gloom of a waning moon. 
Your childhood and early adolescent years were precious, cherished moments and memories that solidified the strength of your relationship. But despite everything, you were the only person who saw how bright Sukuna's own light could shine. 
The driver finally parks the car in front of one of the most expensive buildings in Tokyo. Sukuna gets out first, and extends a hand into the vehicle to help grab yours. The touch sends tingles up your arm, but you do your best not to read into the reaction just yet. 
The two of you enter the building, passing the security who simply tilts their head in acknowledgment, but from your peripheral vision you notice Sukuna’s eyes shifting around his environment.
“No cameras,” you reassure him with a squeeze to his bicep. “No paparazzi…” 
Sukuna was aware of what he signed up for with fame, but that did not mean that you had to be subjected to the aggressive violation of privacy. 
And after everything that happened, after the horrific clashing of both your worlds, he felt himself breathe a huge sigh of relief. 
“They probably think I am showing up to the victory party,” he answered with gratitude.
The elevator rings, the doors opening as you both step inside. 
Sukuna hits the button to the penthouse suite, and from the way his shoulders slump you can tell there is something off about his demeanor. 
This isn’t the Ryomen you knew who walked away from a fight with the buzz of the winner. 
He’s dimmed. 
A bulb that’s flickering. 
Something’s wrong, you thought, looping your arm around his and keeping your eyes on the numbers increasing as you swallow your concern. 
₊ ⊹ .
Puberty didn’t hit Sukuna; it struck him like a brick over his head. 
At sixteen years old, Sukuna was no longer the loser kid that everyone picked on. He was a tower, a watchful pillar that looked down on those around him with an intimidating stare. All of a sudden this scrawny boy shot up like a tree, his body springing into a new version of himself. His voice broke, dropping octaves lower than the soft tone of what it used to be. His shoulders broadened, lean muscle forming since he spent most of his time wrestling and boxing.  
He became the bad boy that everyone blushed and fawned over. 
The athlete that people admired.
His coaches loved him - called him a prodigy, and a star of the future.
Sukuna carried himself with plenty of self respect, and was extremely well spoken. Outside of his athletics he enjoyed reading and learning history, and his venture into sports only happened because it kept him busy and gave him some much needed space away from his home. He was readjust to a new life with his mom back in the picture, and a brother who was five years younger than him. At first it was simply an escape, but once he settled into the atmosphere of it all, it gave him a sense of structure. Sukuna was diligent about his training and academics, outsmarting and outplaying almost everyone around him. His motivation was fueled with every game and competition, and you quickly saw that Sukuna only had the expectation of being a winner and nothing else. 
Navigating your teenage years was a bit tough for both of you. 
It began with one sleep over just a year prior, the moment where you both recognized that things couldn’t progress as casually as they used to. You woke up tangled in each other’s arms, hyper aware of your bodies and the parts that were blooming. 
Sukuna slept on the sofa every sleep over after that. 
Thanks to your eruptive hormones, the both you bickered often and frequently. As you and Sukuna started understanding your own senses of selves, a hint of distance started to grow. For a long time the two of you only ever had each other, but with Sukuna now a part of the athletic group and you falling in line with your own little clique, the both of you were finding some time away from each other and identifying who you were without the other person around. 
However, you always came back to one another, like two little magnets seeking each other out. 
It’s all you’ve ever known since you were six. 
One afternoon, while hanging out in the school’s basketball court, Sukuna turned to face you as you paced behind him while he was throwing some shots for fun.
“They think you’re my girlfriend,” he casually stated, referencing his new set of friends who always studied you with intense curiosity. 
Your face burned multiple degrees hotter than it should. 
“W-what?” You stammered. 
“Yeah,” he answered nonchalantly, and you watched him dribble the basketball as the awkwardness settled.  
“That’s…that’s weird…” was all you could think of adding on. “You told them I am not, right?” 
Sukuna furrowed his brows and hummed. But he nodded his head. 
“Just because we are friends that doesn’t automatically mean that we are “boyfriend and girlfriend”,” you insisted, using air quotes to emphasize your statement. 
Sukuna turned so his back was to you, and tossed the ball directly into the ring. 
“That’s what I told them…” he reassured, but something about his tone didn’t sit right with you. 
The summer that followed - Sukuna’s grandfather, mom and brother took a trip away. Sukuna declined to join since he was participating in a tournament. After his wrestling team came out victorious, he decided to throw a secret bash at his place to celebrate. 
You were there helping him hide away all the fragile items, before staring at him in shock when he placed a few beer cans on his kitchen counter. 
“How did you get that?” You asked in a low whisper, afraid that you both might somehow get caught for doing something that you aren’t supposed to. 
He just gave you a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, Princess…” 
That nickname stuck on you like glue. It’s something Sukuna called you with annoyance when you were both kids, and you used to call him an angry dragon in return. Even though you stopped using that silly term, for some reason Sukuna’s pet name morphed into one of endearment and affection which he kept using. 
“It’s just the team and a couple of girls that the guys have been trying to get with…” he ensured, “The guys wanted the beers, so I managed to sneak some from my grandfather’s stash…” 
“And what if he finds out?” 
Sukuna laughs, “that old man can’t even remember what day it is. I’m sure he won’t notice a few beer cans missing…” 
That night you had your first secret party, your first sip of beer and your first kiss; it was one of those core memories that lingered that was reminiscent of the adrenaline rush from living out the freedom of being young with no responsibilities. You don’t remember who it was who called out the idea of playing seven minutes in heaven, but suddenly all of you were sitting in a circle spinning an empty bottle on Sukuna’s grandfather’s worn rug. Your heart sat at your throat, your eyes fixated on the piece of twirling glass, half wondering who it would land on. You watched as couples disappeared into Sukuna’s room, everyone snickering in a circle thinking about what the potential couples could possibly be doing. 
The boys were crude with their commentary, and the girls giggled with feign disgust. 
Some people came out looking displeased, clearly unamused by what they experienced, while others had a look of euphoria on their faces. 
When the bottle landed on you, the first person you found yourself seeking out was Sukuna. 
However, the other end of the bottle wasn’t pointing to him, but to one of his teammates. 
His friend’s eyes widen with intrigue, a cute smile forming on his pouty lips. 
Your own cheeks warmed with curiosity. 
He helped you onto your feet, but the two of you were struck with an abrupt question that had you pausing your movements. 
“Do you want to do this?” Sukuna pointedly asked, his focus on you alone and no one else. 
There was a grave but serious look resting firmly on his face. 
Something about his stare made you uncomfortable, though you couldn’t place why. With the eyes of everyone else on you and his teammate, you instantly wanted to divert the intense attention elsewhere. 
“Of course!” You said with a casual shrug, then grabbed his teammate’s hand and led him into Sukuna’s bedroom. 
You’ve been in here countless of times, never once feeling uncomfortable in this space. But this time, you were quite aware of the state of his bed, of the slightly rumpled sheets that were tugged from edge to edge. Your mouth went dry, your body suddenly trying to recollect every movie, book and comic that explained or depicted the intimacies between two people. 
Two hands touched your waist, spinning you on your feet. 
“Time’s ticking,” his friend said. “We shouldn’t waste it…” 
“I’ve never done this before…” you blurted out. 
“I haven’t either…” he answered kindly, and that made you feel better. 
“Okay…” you said, before placing your hands awkwardly on his shoulder. 
“Let’s just start with a kiss…” he suggested and then leaned forward. 
You were frozen then, unsure of what to do. You stood there with wide eyes as you felt his lips on yours, the sensation making your belly tingle. 
He pulled away. 
“That wasn’t too bed…” you admitted and he laughed. 
“Do you want to try?” He asked. 
Your first initiated kiss wasn’t magical, nor was it horrendous as some of your other friends experienced. Even now when you think about it - the only memory that hits you is one of innocent exploration. It took a minute for you to get comfortable with his prodding tongue, to figure out the clash between lips and teeth, and to allow his wet muscle to access our mouth and glide over your own. The sensation reminded you of sticky, tacky popsicles that clung to your lips in summers past. 
It was fun…until a loud bang startled you both, making you split from each other’s arms like opposing forces. 
“Time’s up,” Sukuna growled, before barging in without even so much as asking if you were decent like he did with the other pairs. 
The look he gave his teammate was terrifying, even you couldn’t help but gulp. 
His friend let out a nervous giggle, scratching the back of his head as he scurried his way out. “Damn, that was fast!” He tittered nervously, his voice cracking slightly towards the end. 
Sukuna narrowed his gaze as he watched him leave the room. Meanwhile, you both stood there facing each other, noticing his nostrils flaring as your breath rose and fell. 
“What?” You questioned, returning his hard stare with an even stronger glare. 
He huffed out a breath through his nose, “are you okay?” he asked, in an attempt to compose his clearly frazzled state. 
“Yes!” You blurted back, a little shaken. “Was that even seven minutes?” 
Sukuna grimaced, holding onto your eyes before he stormed out of his room, scoffing with annoyance at your response. 
Neither of you really spoke about the awkwardness of that moment, and instead carried into the heat of that summer like nothing even happened. 
But, what did hurt you after that, was that Sukuna never invited you to any of his “parties” again. 
He fibbed and said it was just “a team thing”, but you eventually heard about the other attendees at the party, and only through the grapevine found out about Sukuna’s first kiss.
It felt like a betrayal in its own way, this sudden shakiness in your friendship as uncertain as tectonic plates waiting to crash into a shattering earthquake. 
You called him one night to confront him, asking him why he wouldn’t tell you about his first kiss when you both should be able to talk about everything. But that conversation just resulted in an argument, a blow out that felt like a collapse in your world. 
You both didn’t speak to each other until the end of that summer, when Sukuna finally waved the white flag by crawling to your front door late one evening with some ice cream as a peace offering. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, while you both sat on the sidewalk, scooping wooden spoons into the tub of vanilla with chocolate chips. 
It’s the first time he’s ever apologized to you. 
Even when you were kids, Sukuna refused to ever say he was sorry. 
He would just pout angrily before over compensating with his sweetness to show you that he didn’t mean it. 
But not this time. 
You licked the vanilla off the spoon, biting down on the rich chocolate chunks, and hoping that the tears wouldn’t fall from your eyes from how your chest swelled at his remorse. 
Sukuna draped an arm around your shoulder, “I hate that things have been weird between us.” 
“You made them weird…��� you mumbled and he just sighed. 
“‘Yes,” he begrudgingly admitted, “yes, I did…” 
You turned to look up at him, and he gave you a solemn smile. 
“I’m a little possessive of you, I realize…” he explained, his lips forming into that small frown, mirroring his childlike expression. 
“A little?” you answered back with a snarky tone. 
“You’re my best friend,” he admitted, his eyes downcast with regret. “You have always been my person.” 
“You’re my person too, ‘kuna…” you murmured, “but…but being best friends means that we have to trust each other. That we can’t just…hurt each other. That we should stop being honest or talking to one another when things get bad…that we can’t face things that make us…I don’t know, feel weird and stuff…” 
He rested his chin on the top of your head, the two of you finally bridging the gap of what seemed to be the first real challenge of your friendship. 
“It was a shit kiss…” he sighed, “I was just too fucking embarrassed to tell you.” 
You gazed up at him from underneath your lashes. 
“Why?” You said with a light laugh.  
Sukuna’s attention dipped to your mouth for a split second and back to your eyes again. “I don’t know. You just seemed to have enjoyed yours in comparison. I felt like I lost a game or something. I didn’t want to admit that mine was awkward and wet and just…not fucking good…” 
You laughed at that. 
“Everything with you is a competition…” 
“Not everything…” 
You nudged his stomach playfully with your elbow. “Do you remember when we played Mario Kart for the first time? When you lost three rounds in a row and nearly ripped my head off?” 
“How was I supposed to know you are freakishly good at that game?” 
You laughed, “I stay the reigning champion of rainbow road!” 
“You stay a pain in my ass…” 
You rolled your eyes, “a pain in your ass that will never leave you, so stop complaining about it…” 
Sukuna exhales, “It was…a bad kiss,” he admitted shyly, “She was so damn skittish, and I think I was too. I didn’t…I didn’t think it would be so…ugh. It was just not the right person…” 
“Or maybe you were just nervous…” you answered honestly. 
Sukuna shook his head. 
“No, I know it wasn’t the right person…” he said with confidence. 
You unraveled from his hold for a moment to look deep into those heated eyes. 
“Can I say something?” he questioned, the tips of his ears turning slightly red, a blush you’ve seen before but never realized how adorable it actually looked on him until this moment. 
“Anything”
“I don’t want you to think I am being weird or take this the wrong way…” Sukuna explained, pausing for a single breath before continuing. “I just thought the first person I would’ve kissed would have been…well, you… 
The world went still in that moment. All you could hear was the soft rustle of the trees in the distance, and all you could see was the open vulnerability of Sukuna’s heart resting on his face. 
It’s incredibly rare for him to even show it, your friend guarding that part of himself with such conviction. 
“Oh…” 
“But then I realized that you’re not supposed to be kissing your best friend,” he added on, stomping on the spark that flickered between you both before it even had a chance to even light. 
“No,” you agreed quickly, your eyes darting to the tub of ice cream. You pressed the back of your spoon into the creamy texture, doing your best to ignore the sudden pulse in your chest. 
“My second kiss was a lot better that’s for sure…” Sukuna rambled on, digging his spoon around yours as he scooped himself another serving of ice cream. “Way better actually…and on round three I think I got the hang of it…” 
You swallowed the tiny lump in your throat. “I don’t need to know the gross details, please,” you implored, though your stomach rolled with a hint of nausea at the reality that he’s kissed more people than you expected. 
You never admitted it out loud, but the confession made you a little jealous. 
If you were an option in his head…why didn’t he just ask? 
₊ ⊹ .
Sukuna lost his virginity to a freshman college student a year later when he snuck into a party with two of his former teammates. You lost yours on the night of your graduation party to the same boy you kissed for the first time. You and Sukuna were expected to attend the same university (with him obtaining a full scholarship for academic excellence), but your friend had deviated from the shared path after being scouted. The two of you commuted to see each other often, with you visiting him when he was training and him stopping by the campus whenever he had free time. 
You and Sukuna knew about the other person’s intimate lives from the stories you shared, and despite continuously being plagued with constant accusations of being “more than friends”, you both agreed never to allow that discomforting prospect to intervene with your friendship again after that terribly awkward summer.
Rather than ignore the fact that you were growing to be even more beautiful by the day, Sukuna just became extremely blunt around you. He didn’t hide his eyes checking you out, noticing how your curves were starting to fill out and how you began to mature into your own features. He confidently spoke about how attractive you were, and often boosted your ego in ways that only enhanced your own confidence. 
You enjoyed reminding him that once upon a time he thought “girls were disgusting” and “looked funny”. 
“Let’s not forget I am the first guy to marry you,” he joked, recalling a game you both used to play where you pretended to be characters from a fantasy realm. 
“Actually you were the first dragon to marry me,” you clarified, because Sukuna loathed the prospect of playing a prince. “I don’t really think it counts…” 
“Maybe not - but all these guys fawning over you are going to find out you’re some kind of monster fucker and start running in the other direction…” 
It was safe to say that the banter between you both never changed.
You on the other hand, were recognizing just how handsome Sukuna was becoming too. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times up until this point, but something about watching the definition of muscle build into his new physique, and noticing the way manhood slowly enveloped his body, began to hit you in different ways. This was especially noticeable when you would watch him train in the ring, paying attention to the fact that Sukuna wasn’t built just like any average person. It didn’t even occur to you how incredibly strong he had become until he would lift or move your body around like you were weightless and not a living, breathing human with physical mass. 
One evening, while you both were walking back to your dorm from a dinner at a cheap ramen bar, Sukuna had the audacity to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder because “you couldn’t keep up with his pace”. 
All of a sudden, you were acutely aware that the scrawny boy that you used to protect was now all grown up. 
Sukuna morphed into brick and stone, while you were merely glass. 
For some reason, it put a strain on your heart. 
You guys really weren’t kids anymore. 
This was only solidified a year and a half into his career when Sukuna fought in his first professional tournament at twenty years old. The man dominated the ring against his opponent. He broke the record of the most knock outs and became a household name almost overnight. 
“The King”
Time moved at double speed after that. 
Your fingers that were clinging to bits of nostalgia weren’t able to keep them from it slipping between your grasp. Things were happening in a blur, and the sudden shift in Sukuna’s world felt like a birthing black hole in your own.
The night before Sukuna was flying off on his first world tour, the two of you were cooped up in your dorm room, snuggled underneath the blanket like you used to be when you were both kids. 
This time, it wasn’t awkward. 
You had both experienced love and lust in different ways up until that point. 
You knew that being this close didn’t have to mean anything risqué. 
You were comfortable with yourselves far more than you were five years ago.
“It’s going to be weird not seeing you all the time,” you whispered with a sniffle, while Sukuna traced the shell of your ear. 
Two silver chains mirrored one another, one on your neck and the other on his. It was your parting gift to him, a reminder to keep a piece of each other around when you couldn’t be together. 
You assumed Sukuna would find it stupid, but instead he clasped the necklace around himself before doing the same for you in silent contemplation. 
“I’ll keep in touch, brat” he soothed, but you could hear the ache in his voice too.
You circled your arms around his neck, eagerly clinging onto him as closely as you could for the little time you had. 
“I am really proud of you though,” you spoke, your shaky breath against his collar bone, a tear rolling down your cheek as you inhaled the herby scent of his soap. 
“I’m paying off your loans when the money really starts rolling in,” he chuckled against your temple. 
You shook your head with disapproval. “Just buy your grandpa something nice,” you insisted. “And make sure to spoil Yuji…” 
“That kid’s already spoiled…”
“But he’s a sweetheart,” you emphasized, “and I know he’s probably going to miss you more than me…” 
Sukuna hummed. “I wouldn’t be here without you.” 
You tilted your chin up as he dropped his head down, your noses merely inches apart. You relaxed the muscles on your face, your thumb reaching to smooth the crease from between his brows. 
“God knows what would have happened if you didn’t save my sorry ass back when we were kids…” he said with an easy smile. 
“You would have eventually fought back,” you giggled, “besides, you don’t need me protecting you anymore…” you pointed out, your voice a little breathless, and your anxious mind running on the concern of if you might even fit into Sukuna’s new life after this. 
He wrapped his arms around you, bringing you into the seam of his frame. 
“I always need you,” he confessed, and those words were enough to make you break as the pain of his departure finally collided into you. 
₊ ⊹ .
Sukuna went off to having an extremely successful boxing career. 
At twenty-two, he had turned into one of the hottest sports stars the industry has ever seen. 
He had win after his win under his belt, and the second he partnered with Uraume it was a match made in heaven. 
He was insanely good, and with Uraume by his side, he was now unstoppable. 
You were provided tickets to any of his fights, accompanied with private transportation and accommodation if necessary. Sukuna always made sure that you were well take care of, and you always accepted because it was the only time you were able to actually see him. Those few days were precious together, before you had to depart and return to the real world once again. Each of Sukuna’s fights was a mesmerizing experience. There was something about his flow in the ring that managed to make everything else around him blur. 
He was strong, but agile. 
Brutal but swift with his movements. 
He moved with regal precision, a dancer that understood the rhythms of strength. 
Everyone challenged him, but all of them failed. 
Ryomen Sukuna was a force to be reckoned with. 
Despite the distance, you and Sukuna always made a conscious effort at keeping in touch with each other. You may not be physically there in each other’s presence, but not a day went by without a phone call or multiple texts.
At twenty-seven, Sukuna was at the peak of his stardom. Your best friend found himself tangled between the world of fame and fortune, alongside his old life of normalcy and humble peace. He made good on his promises; setting up a trust fund to ensure that Yuji was well taken care of in every capacity. He paid off all your loans in secret because he knew you would never accept it from him upfront. He bought his grandfather a home in Osaka for him to retire to. And his peace offering to his mom was renovating their old, broken home into something new and vibrant for her to live her life happily now that she seemed to have finally settled down in her third marriage. Sukuna even offered to take care of his step brother, Choso. They may not have been personally close, but he was grateful that Choso was keeping a watchful eye on Yuji. 
Your own life was starting to unfurl as well - you had graduated university, were experiencing your first serious relationship, navigating various friendships and landing your first job. It all felt normal compared to Sukuna, but the man never minimized your experiences. 
When you were together, it’s like nothing had even changed, but the moment your realities bled into each other, it was a constant reminder of how just how far apart your lives actually were. 
You were harassed by the paparazzi who constantly overstepped. 
Sukuna’s boundaries were crossed by the people you knew because everyone wanted a moment with the star. 
You found yourself in environments with the rich whose beauty, wealth and status seemed far out of your reach. 
Sukuna found himself being treated more like an object than a person. 
And yet, you both seemed to be settling down into your own versions of the life you were creating - always weaving the other person in no matter the obstacle.
At twenty-eight, Sukuna had earned more money than he could even imagine, and was still somehow only moving onwards and up. He was plastered on every magazine cover, was the the center of attention on social media by his most dedicated and loyal fans. He was stalked and obsessed over, admired and feared. Networks wanted to feature him on shows, movies and every talk show. The man was a composition of everything that people were projecting onto him. 
He had become an untouchable to the eyes of every living mortal. 
But to you, and just you - he would always be the little boy who was far too small for this big world. 
After years of flings with influencers, models, and high end socialites - it seemed that Sukuna was finally settling down with one of the top actresses in the industry. The moment the two of them were caught kissing at a party, their secret was revealed to the public. 
You, however, knew all the details of the ways in which Sukuna was slowly wooing her. 
At this point you’ve both grown tolerant of hearing about the other person’s love life. And at this time especially, you weren’t affected by Sukuna’s first serious relationship because you and your boyfriend were discussing the possibility of marriage which felt close on the horizon.  You had just bought your first house, and was considering the big gesture of having him move in with you. You had gotten an incredible promotion at work, and for the first time you felt a sense of stability that you had never really experienced before. 
“We should have dinner together!” You offered one night to Sukuna over the phone. 
“The four of us?” He questioned. 
“Yeah, I mean…you know Sousuke really well…” 
“Yeah, and he hates me…” 
“But I haven’t met Mei yet…and no, Sousuke doesn’t “hate you”…”
“I hate to break it to you, Princess. But the guy can’t stand me…” 
You glanced towards your boyfriend who was sitting on the sofa, his attention on the television show he was watching. You stepped away from the living room, and quietly made your way to the bedroom. 
“’kuna…” you spoke, your throat catching, “I think…I think he might propose…” 
“What?!” He exclaimed and you had to pull the phone away. 
“Jeez! Don’t shout! You’re going to make me pop an ear drum!” 
He groaned. 
You sighed, “we’ve been talking about it…and I just…I just really want you guys to get along is all.  I just think you guys are just not seeing eye to eye…” 
Sukuna remained oddly quiet on the phone. 
“Can you say something?” You begged. 
“Fine,” he grumbled, “we can do dinner at my place. The paparazzi have been hounding me trying to get any shot they can find of me and Mei. I would rather we don't go anywhere public...” 
You smiled, “dinner is perfect!” 
At first glance, the dinner seemed like a complete success. 
The four of you chatted and enjoyed your night like you were all old friends, especially after Sousuke got over his starstruck moment when he met Mei. You and Sukuna told stories of your years together, inviting your partners to the pieces of your lives that you both shared. You could see that Sukuna was clearly attracted to Mei, and in turn he could see that you were happy with Sousuke. The night felt like a convergence without an implosion - an easy going settlement on the two roads that you and your friend had taken. 
That’s why when your boyfriend called things off with you three months later, it took you completely by surprise. 
Nothing in this world could have prepared you for that heartbreak. 
It was a grieving period, a dark time of mourning that had you glued to your bed most days. This life that you had been carefully piecing together toppled like dominos. After breaking the news to Sukuna, you spent two weeks isolating yourself from anything and everything else. 
Your best friend couldn’t stand seeing you in this state, and showed up at your door out of the blue one evening.
You burst into tears at the sight of him.
He was there to mend your broken heart, and he never left your side. He told his team that he was taking a much needed break, and during that time made sure that you were fed and comfortable. He handled any extra chores, slept on the floor in your bedroom every night so that you weren’t alone. He spent hours with you in silence while you wept, listened to you angrily vent your frustrations on how your ex could treat you this way. 
One night, he woke up and realized that you weren’t in bed. He searched for you, finding you in the kitchen staring at a small pile of bridal magazines. 
Your clothes were rumpled, you hadn’t changed or freshened up since that morning. 
Sukuna didn’t say anything, just placed two hands on your shoulders and turn you away from the painful memories. 
You gasped and hiccuped into his chest. 
“I couldn’t sleep…” you explained, “I r-remembered that I still had these, and just…just wanted them gone…” 
Sukuna tenderly stroked the back of your neck. “You know,” he said, his voice deeper than the ocean itself, the tone the texture of velvet. “I can always break his fucking legs…” 
The comment made you choke out a laugh. 
“It’ll ruin your career,” you whimpered. “It’s not worth it…” 
“For you,” he soothed, his thumb lightly tracing the space where the base of your neck and spine connected. “It’s always worth it” 
₊ ⊹ .
The blunder in Sukuna’s career hit early last year, when his relationship with Mei fell apart and resulted in one of the worst break ups that people have ever seen. Mei released a public, viral video that had millions of views and thousands of shares. She accused Sukuna of cheating for the entirety of their two year relationship, crying crocodile tears on camera over how she was simply another trophy that he could successfully claim while his heart always belonged to someone else. 
That video made your blood boil. 
You knew Sukuna wasn’t perfect - but if there was one thing you would never doubt about that man it was his loyalty. 
You saw it towards grandfather, to Yuji, to Uraume, and even yourself. 
That man scoffed at the prospect of cheating, believing it to be a cowardice act. 
And Sukuna was no coward. 
Even in prior relationships, he was always clear about where he stood. If he couldn’t commit to something, he made it perfectly known. You still didn’t know what it was about Mei that had him finally let his walls down. But when they were together, he looked perfectly content. Every desire and every fantasy he dreamt up in his youth had finally been accomplished. But all you knew about their break up was that things weren’t working out, and Sukuna wasn’t willing to share more than that. 
You were being respectful of his privacy, understanding firsthand how tough this kind of heartbreak can be. 
He called you when the Mei's video first broke out, his voice strained. 
“You know it’s not true, right?” He questioned before even saying hello. 
“Ryo, of course I know that-” 
“I’m not a little bitch who would cheat. I would never do that. Nor am I that fucking stupid thinking I would ever get away with it-”
“I know…” you reassured, hearing the apprehension laced through his words. “Ryomen, I know you. I know you better than anyone else in this world.”
He breathed a long sigh of relief. “I was just wondering if you might have been convinced otherwise”  
Your stomach tightened. 
“But if you believe me, then I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.” 
Something about that conversation clung onto you, it sat like a weight on your shoulders that you couldn’t quite possibly shrug off. The tabloids, news outlets and social media accounts were throwing ingredients upon ingredients into the rumor pot that was bubbling and boiling over. On top of that, a new rising star had just entered the boxing world, and Sukuna was suddenly dealing with brutal comparisons to the younger, hotter talent that was Satoru Gojo. 
You were the one who offered to take him out to dinner to get his mind off of things, not realizing just how bad it actually was for him. 
When a gossip magazine posted the photos of you both huddled together (as you have done many times before) while having an ordinary dinner, it spun your world inside and out. Though the pictures were quite blurry, there were a few people who were able to recognize you. You were being harassed at your work, interrogated by your friends and were even being accused of being “the other woman”.
The worst part is was when Mei fed into the chaos, making a follow up post and stating that “a woman always knows, and is always right” in regards to her break up situation with Sukuna.
She may not have explicitly said it, but her fingers were pointing at you.  
You don’t know how your address got leaked, but when you started finding paparazzi stalking you in your own home it became far too much for you to handle. 
Sukuna, on the other hand, was infuriated. 
This whole time he was disengaged by what was going on, but once you were caught in the mix of this mess, it seemed that he was suddenly ready to cause equal destruction. 
He sued his ex for defamation, sued multiple media outlets for harassment. He had Higuruma Hiromi, one of the top lawyers in his field, at the helm of this take down, and the second he shot back, it had everyone scurrying in retreat. 
The tabloids, blogs and magazines all redacted the photos of you, reducing your digital footprint. 
His ex, under pressure of Sukuna’s threats, came out with a public apology so that he would drop the charges against her and help her avoid her own PR nightmare. 
The rest of Sukuna’s anger was taken out on the ring, with people seeing another side of what The King could unleash. 
His match against Hajime Kashimo was one of the bloodiest in boxing history, his opponent left crimson and defeated despite seemingly holding a strong front in the beginning. 
They dubbed him: “The Monster of The Ring” after that. 
The damage was already done, and the stress of it all was starting to hurt Sukuna’s focus. When he nearly got disqualified in a match, that is when Uraume intervened, and felt it was necessary to include you in the discussion. 
You’ve always had a complicated relationship with Uraume. They respected you, but you know it’s only because of your mutual relationship with Sukuna. Uraume, however, has made snide remarks  towards you when you were both alone - about how you were merely a distraction when dangled in front of his champion’s eyes.
“I think some time apart would do you both good,” they said. “They are never going to stop hounding you because they think there is something more going on, and besides…we can’t have Sukuna fucking up with Gojo now in the mix. We need to show the world that he’s still as strong and as relevant as ever…” 
“It’ll die down,” Sukuna stated with frustration. 
The both of them bickered over it. It was the first time you have ever witnessed them in a heated exchanged. Your heart started to hurt because you were aware how all of this was only making your best friend see in shades of red. 
He wasn’t himself. 
He wasn’t thinking clearly. 
This was impacting him.  
You getting involved in this was impacting him. 
“Ryomen,” you said seriously, placing your hand over his. “I think Uraume is right…” 
The man turned to you, his fingers lacing between your own subconsciously as he squeezed it tightly in disbelief. 
It was the first time you’ve ever seen him hurt. 
“It’s just a short time apart,” you said with a comforting smile, “once everyone gets bored we can resume our lives in peace. But right now, I can see this taking a toll on you…” 
He furrowed the front of his brows. 
“Uraume is looking out for you, and I think what they are saying makes sense. Don’t you?” 
“No, I fucking don’t…” he snapped, his eyes glaring at his manager who remained stoic as ever. 
“Don’t let your emotions get the better of you,” they remarked, “I know a part of you agrees with what I have to say.” 
“You’re not in the right state of mind, and you need to be” 
“It’s for your own good,” Uraume insisted. "You are gambling with your career. With your legacy"
The decision was mutual but entirely heartbreaking all the same. Sukuna drew the circus away, and it broke you when you realized that in order to protect you, he had to sacrifice something in return. 
The comfort of your friendship, the sanctuary of your company.
It was the price of fame, and one that he was willing to keep paying. 
As a result of this tough decision, Sukuna had grown cold. Not because he was being mean or cruel, but because he thought he was offering you some peace of mind. Because he thought that by withdrawing from you, it would make the pain of the separation easier. He wanted this distance to be a clean break for the both of you, and while he honored keeping in touch, it was just at the bare minimum because his calls and texts were few and far between. 
The most you saw of him was on a screen, and you could see that Sukuna was miserable. 
He was turning into something vicious in the ring, a violent machine that people glorified. He wasn’t moving with the fluidity of an artist that you used to admire when you first started watching him fight. There was a sense of brutality that was now a part of his make up. 
Sukuna was no longer a man, he was a beast. 
His persona was dwindling into only intimidation. Every interview, every guest appearance, and every social occasion was met with detachments or disinterest. He was growing snarky and irritable, no longer willing to charm the people around him. 
Satoru Gojo was the first to shoot at Sukuna with his words, dredging up his painful break up and even dragging you back into the fold with his commentary. The two of them grew to have a very intense rivalry. They exchanged heated arguments on social media, smack talked the other person in live interviews and had tense interactions in public. 
The press and the people were eating up every single second of it.
On the eve of his thirty-first birthday, you received a call from Uraume. 
“We are back in the city,” they said, “Sukuna needs to start training up for his match against Satoru Gojo.” 
You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat. 
“Why didn’t he tell me he was back?” You asked softly. 
Uraume sighed, “I don’t have to tell you that he’s been in a fowl mood. The agency is throwing a huge birthday party for him tonight which he is refusing to attend…” 
“So, why are you calling me?” 
“Because…” Uraume sighed, “he’s about to fly to close to the sun, and I can see he needs an anchor to bring him down to Earth a little bit…” 
Your cheeks burned at the statement. “Are you saying I am his anchor?” 
“I am saying it’s been almost a year since he last saw you…” Uraume explained, “And I don’t want him feeling awful on his birthday. I care about him too, you know?” 
You nodded your head, “No, of course. I know that.” 
“I told him that I would stop by to pick him up for the party, but I think giving him a nice surprise might do him so good. Remind the guy to enjoy himself a little…” 
“You’re sweet,” you said with a smile. 
“As are you, my dear,” Uraume replied tenderly. 
“My, my, are you actually giving me a compliment?” 
“Don’t let it get to your head,” they remarked playfully, and you felt a hint of ease realizing that things might not be as cold between you both as you thought. 
That Uraume was really only ever considering Sukuna's well being first, just like you.
₊ ⊹ .
Uraume made sure that you got to Sukuna’s place in one piece and without anyone knowing that you were even there. You clasped your best friend's present between your fingers, your exposed body shivering from the cold air as you rode the elevator up to his penthouse apartment.
It felt right to dress up; you wore a white mini dress with a mesh overlay that had little embroidered detailing on the fabric. There were cut outs in the back, with an adjustable strap from behind cinching the bodice perfectly to your shape. Your kitten heels clicked against the floor, the nerves suddenly tingling their way up your legs as you thought about what Sukuna’s reaction might even be. 
This year felt like a century in the timeline of your friendship. 
You knocked on his door gently, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. 
You could hear the trudge of footsteps from behind the frame, Sukuna’s voice bellowing as he spoke. 
“Uraume, for the last fucking time, I told you I am not going, and if you force it I will fire you on the spot-” 
He swung the door open and froze. 
“Surprise!” You squeaked lightly, awkwardly lifting the gift in your hands. “I got you a present!” 
Sukuna blinked once and then twice, his lips parting as if he’s seen a ghost. 
“Uraume asked me to come,” you explained. “They told me that you guys were back…” 
He stood there dumbfounded, for once rendered completely speechless. 
You cleared your throat, feeling a warmth rippling over your skin as the man gave you a once over. His eyes flickered down your body, hovering over all the parts of your exposed skin. Your bare thighs, your décolletage, and up the nape of your neck. 
“T-they wanted you to have fun on your birthday,” you added on with an apprehensive grin, “they actually suggested maybe a quiet night in and thought you might just want to spend it with an old friend instead of a bunch of people you probably don’t even like…” 
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his mouth pressing into a firm line. 
He looked…upset. 
Was he not happy to see you? 
“Uhm,” you mumbled, your fingers toying with the ribbon at the odd dismissal and lack of enthusiasm, “I-I don’t have to stay, but I did just want to wish you a happy birthday…” 
You took a small step forward, holding the present up as an offering. “Happy birthday, ‘Kuna…” you said with a quiet warble in your voice and feeling like a complete idiot for showing up. The disappointment of his response sat heavily on your chest.
He lifted his hand, gripping the present as he plucked it out of your grasp. You cleared your throat, anxiously scratching the back of your ear as you lifted up the strap of your dress which fell on your right shoulder. 
“I’ll just…” you added on in defeat, gesturing behind you to indicate that you were leaving. 
You didn’t even notice his arm sling behind your waist when your eyes fell downcast. 
Suddenly you were pulled over the threshold, the door closing behind you in a bang before your back was pressed up against the wooden frame. Your gaze lifted up to Sukuna, your pupils widening when you you were met with his menacing stare. 
“You know,” you said with a gulp, hoping to the ease the tension as you tried to catch your breath. “You really do look like a dragon when you scowl like that…” 
“Are you stupid?” He spat with irritation. “What if someone saw you come over? We just got the press off our backs…” 
Your pulse hit the base of your throat. “Uraume ensured that no one was around…” 
“I thought we agreed to take time apart…” he argued, ignoring your words. “You agreed.” 
“You’re mad...” You pointed out, the tip of your nose wincing as you pursed your lips. 
“I’m not mad, I’m furious…” he said with irritation. “I’m trying to keep you out of this fucking chaos and you just waltz in, in this sorry excuse of a dress, like everything is perfectly fine?!” 
You looked down at your outfit, and folded your arms over your chest. 
“I…” you spoke, your voice trailing off as your shoulders slumped. 
You didn’t even know if you should apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong and this wasn’t even your idea to begin with. You’ve also never seen Sukuna speak to you this way before, and your confidence bubbled when you recognized that this...wasn’t him. 
You straightened your back, tilting your chin up to face him with defiance. 
You’re the only person in the world who willingly challenges him. 
You don’t even have to raise a fist to watch him break. 
He was pushing you away, the same way he did when you found him on the ground of that kindergarten because that’s what Sukuna does when he’s hurting the most. 
“God, you’re just as miserable as look…” you pointed out with a quirk of your brow. 
His jaw twitched. 
“I don’t give a shit who catches me here,” you boldly claimed, “I miss my best friend…” you added before shoving his shoulder, “and you, you asshole, have no excuse for not telling me that you are back home. Just because I agreed to us spending some time apart, that doesn’t mean you get to just...cut me off like that. To not call me, to barely answer my texts, and to just push me away like I don’t matter to you…” 
Sukuna winced, taking a step closer to seal the gap of space between you both. He brought his head lower, dipping his forehead to press against your own. Your spine seized in that moment, your lips parting feeling the heat of his breath on your skin. 
You were expecting a rebuttal, but this…this wasn’t what you thought would happen. 
“You are a pain in my ass…” he whispered, closing his eyes as he circled his free arm around your waist, “and the only thing that matters to me…” 
He nudged his face closer, so close you swore to yourself that he might kiss you, before tracking his lips along your jaw and cradling his forehead in the crook of your neck instead. 
Your right hand moved him to touch his shoulder, your face contorting with a hint of concern. 
You felt it then, something wet on your skin where his forehead lay, and you took in a sharp breath as Sukuna tightened his arm around your waist. 
“You shouldn’t have come…” he took a deep inhale against your neck, smelling your skin before clearing his throat from any shakiness. 
“You said that already…” you grumbled unamused. 
“Stubborn woman, you never listen...” he breathed in once more, “God, I fucking missed you.” 
₊ ⊹ .
Sukuna opened his present once everything was settled, and once he finally embraced the reunion without questioning any other factors. He laughed at your little DIY stress kit that you put together for him. You both ordered in pizza, sitting on opposite sides of the sofa with the open cardboard box between you. You talked, and talked, and talked into the late hours of the night.  Until there were only crumbs on the bottom of the box which Sukuna placed on the coffee table. The bottle of champagne that you have both been nursing was nearly empty. 
Drunk on each other, with a belly full of food and simplistic joy settling in. Sukuna leaned against the arm rest, sprawling his long legs and patting his thigh sweetly. 
“C’mere…” 
Your heart hammered, and you bit the rim of your champagne glass before obliging. 
You stood up, swaying a little and watching his hungry eyes blatantly check you out as you sat on his lap. Sukuna adjusted his position, before dropping his palm on your thigh, his touch stroking up and down your skin. 
“What’s going on with you?” You inquired, placing your elbow on his shoulder as you rested your warm cheek against your palm. 
You were looking at him with concern, noticing his face sink. 
He rubbed one hand over the exhausted expression, an intoxicated blush painting his cheeks. 
“The press are worse than ever. After Mei, it’s been…relentless. The stories they are coming up with, the things that they are saying about me. I went from being on top of the world to being the guy everyone loves to fucking hate. And with every fight I go into, people are just waiting for me to wash up. The cherry on top of this whole fucking thing is Satoru Gojo, who won’t stop running his fucking mouth. I want cut the little shit in half…” 
You smiled, not to be condescending, but out of gratitude that you both easily slipped back into the shell of your own comfort. “Ryomen, he’s twenty-one years old. Do you not remember how you were at that age?” 
He rolled his eyes. “I had more class than he did…” 
“But you were aggressive,” you reminded, “You weren’t afraid to tear down the legends that predated you.” 
“So, what are you saying?” 
“I’m saying that maybe Satoru drew inspiration from somewhere…” 
You placed the champagne glass on his chest, your fingers holding the stem as you swirled the liquid around gently. The silence hung in the air because Sukuna knew you were right, but there were other lingering questions pressing you at the same time. And thanks to the alcohol, you had all the courage you needed to ask.
“What happened with Mei?” You wondered, shifting your gaze to meet his. 
Sukuna’s index finger tapped up and down your thigh in contemplation. 
He closed his eyes and shook his head before swallowing the lump in his throat. “Nothing.” 
You quirked your brow again, taking a swig of your champagne. 
Sukuna used his free hands to wrap around your own, and he pulled the glass away from you to take a sip himself. 
“Why won’t you tell me?” 
He chugged the rest of your drink, and placed it on the ground beside him. 
“Ryomen…” 
“Don’t push me, brat…” 
“But why not?” You wondered, “I just…it just seemed like you both were so happy and then all of a sudden…” 
He dropped his head back against the arm rest and stared up at the ceiling. From underneath his black shirt you saw the silver chain poking through. 
Your heart tightened. 
You drew one hand on the locket, your finger curling underneath as your thumb tracked over the texture of the necklace. 
“You’re still wearing it…” you mumbled. 
Sukuna faced you. “I never take it off. Only when I have to get in the ring…” His eyes shifted to your exposed, naked neck, and you mindlessly reached for the silver chain that you were currently not wearing. 
“I don’t wear it on certain occasions…” you explained guiltily, “only because I am afraid that I might lose it.” 
“Plus, it wouldn’t go with this dress...” Sukuna nonchalantly added on and you laughed at his comment. 
He sighed in defeat. “The necklace was a small reason,” he opened up. “Mei hated that I wore it all the time. She would badger me about taking it off. The time I spent with you after Sousuke didn’t help…” he added, treading the delicate topic with as much sensitivity as he could, “she accused me for cheating. I told her she needed to back off because you and I had a history that predates her. I told her that if the roles were reversed, you would be there for me because you have always been there for me…” 
Your body froze. 
“She would pick fights with me over everything about you. Finally I had enough, and told her she needed to fucking trust me if this was going to work. But things never went back to the way they used to. It was always up and down with Mei. Finally, when she had enough, she told me that I had a choice to make. Either I cut you off for us to happily together. Or…she leaves…” 
You sat up, staring at him with wide eyes and shock.  
“I’m…” you gasped, “I’m the reason why you both broke up?” 
The guilt struck you harder than you expected, and you looked down at Sukuna’s torso shamefully as you recalled the state of yourself post-break up, thinking of all the moments where you might have potentially stolen precious time away from his former lover. 
“Ryomen, I am so…I am so sorry…” 
Two fingers brushed underneath your chin, and Sukuna lifted your head so you could see him. 
“I picked you,” he confessed, “I picked you.” 
“But-” 
“There is no “but”,” he said with a shake of his. “We’ve been in each other’s lives for over two decades. You are my person. You are my family. You…”, he sighed, “you didn’t deserve what happened afterwards...”
His hands trailed up until his digits caught the hem of your dress. 
“I’m keeping my distance to protect you..."
“But you loved her,” you gasped, “I saw it. I saw you both. I would’ve…I would’ve stepped aside. If I was causing any issues, I would’ve…respected your boundaries. I love you, Ryomen. I just want you to be happy, and if that means that I take a step back-” 
“I did love her,” Sukuna interjected, the heat of gaze flicking upward, the rims slightly red from the alcohol he consumed. “But I love you more…” 
He drew all the air out of your lungs with the slip of his tongue, making you perch yourself up so you were actually looking directly at him. His pupils were dilated, widening as if to give you access to the depths of his soul. In all your years you’ve known him, you don’t think the two of you ever actually exchanged those words. It was always veiled with “I care for you,”, “I adore you,” “You’re my person,” and “this is why we are best friends.” 
But love… 
That felt forbidden to say out loud, even though you both knew that the root of your friendship was only built on love, it shouldn't have come as such a shock to you for the confession to slip so naturally.
You gaze longingly into each other’s eyes, in a way that you haven’t since you were both sixteen years old. 
Wondering…
Considering…
“I don’t…” you said quietly, sitting upright as he shifted beneath you. 
You wound up straddling him, both your hands resting on his shoulders while his own continued to tease the hem of your dress. 
“I don’t know what to say…” you exhaled. 
Sukuna pinched the fabric between his thumb and index finger, allowing the silence to hang for a few minutes before switching the subject. 
“Did you dress up for me?” He joked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his devilish mouth. He slid one hand underneath your dress, making you gasp as his touch moved dangerously high up your thigh. 
“Wanted to look cute,” you murmured, your words lacing tightly together as the champagne danced across your tongue. You felt a pulse radiate between your legs, and you unknowingly clenched much to Sukuna’s amusement.  
“Cute for me?” He coaxed. 
“Cute in general,” you remarked. 
His other hand sprawled across your back, and you knew he was testing his boundaries.
“Ryomen…” you warned, but it only made him break out into a full grin. His irises were drowning in lust and inebriation, and your own were falling in suit. 
The hand on your hip dragged up further, until his fingers brushed over the string of your underwear. You scratched your nails down his chest, feeling your back arch into his palm as you mindlessly rolled your hips.
His lips moved to your ear, that mellifluous voice dangerously close. “Let’s play a game…” 
He squeezed the fat of your hip, his weight lifting you up and the entire room spun as he pinned you underneath him when he switched your positions. He locked you against the plush sofa with his thighs, a throaty laugh coming through from your sudden squeak of surprise. 
“Let’s see you try to get out of this one, Princess...” He teased, his teeth nipping at the side of your throat. “Or you’ll end up being my dinner…” 
Your body vibrated from the sensation of his touch. You gripped his jaw firmly and pulled his face towards you, your brows furrowing at the proclamation of a challenge. 
“It’s not fair to go against a boxing champion,” you argued, your spine curving as Sukuna slipped his other thigh between your legs. 
He dropped his head to the base of your throat, his teeth catching the sensitive spot just above your collar bone, “don’t worry,” he soothed over the gentle bite, “I’ll play fair…”
“Don’t patronize me,” you grumbled through gritted teeth. 
“You’re fault for waltzing into the dragon’s lair…” he alerted, quoting the very same line he used to when you would both play this silly fantasy game together. 
But you’re not wielding plastic swords and entering into the enemies domain with a sense of courage. Now, it felt like playing with fire. Your skin was burning at the contact, at Sukuna’s weight over your throbbing body. When he nibbled on your neck again, your hand gripped onto the back of his head, tugging his hair a little roughly as you pulled him away. 
Sukuna purred. 
“You’ve never been able to beat me…” you teased, giving into the world of make believe just one more time but speaking the truth regarding this fact. “I’ve always been your biggest challenge…” 
“Watch me win tonight,” he pushed with confidence, reaching for your wrist and pinning it above your head. 
“And what are the rules here exactly?” You quipped, your tongue tingling and your body buzzing with excitement and curiosity. “Am I supposed to kill the dragon and win back my castle?” 
Sukuna laughed, his eyes darkening as he pressed his forehead to yours once more. 
“No need to draw any swords. Let’s play a game of submission…” he boldly claimed, and your attention flickered to find his brazen smile burning even brighter on his face. “First person to cum loses” 
“Are you making a move on me?” You light heartedly disputed. 
“Not at all,” Sukuna maintained, but you can tell from his tone that he’s veiling the truth.
There was something hard pressing up against you, and you had a feeling it was a nudge for some relief. 
“It’s the dress isn’t it?” you giggle.
“If you even call it a dress…” 
“Can’t handle a little skin?” 
“I don’t want to shock you by telling you got me half hard just showing up,” he confessed, something unfolding in your drunken stupor. 
“I can feel you…” you sighed, and the man hummed as he molded his body into you.
You felt him twitch, and it made your thighs tremble. 
“We had too much champagne,” you informed. 
“That we did” 
“We should probably stop…” you exhaled, your lashes fluttering when you felt his thigh flex against your cunt. 
“Do you want to?” Sukuna asks, his voice growing serious. His hand on your hip tugs at the string of your underwear, and he releases it with a snap as it pinches back against your skin. 
You licked your lips, your brain too fuzzy to contradict what your heart wanted. “You know I will never back down from a challenge with you…” 
“That's what I like about you,” Sukuna adoringly praises. 
“And we both know you’re going to lose, right?” 
Your throat shrinks, Sukuna’s hand gliding over your pubis to press the drenched spot against your underwear. 
“Don’t underestimate me, Princess,” he advices ominously, “we’ve never played a game like this before.” 
₊ ⊹ .
Clothes had to stay on - that was the rule you both agreed with. 
To keep things fair. 
To keep it…playful. 
Your nipples pebbled, poking hard against the fabric of your dress as Sukuna sucked on the skin of your neck. You knew for a fact that he was leaving a mark there, and all you could do was bite back as his mouth trailed down the column and over the slope of your breast. You whimpered when he tugged at your clothed nipple with with his teeth, making the muscles in your leg seize from the sudden contact. 
You had to do something, and so you reached your hand between your legs to lightly graze over his erection pressing against his sweats. 
Sukuna groaned, and you sniggered at the reaction. 
You lifted your head and neck, bringing your mouth to his own ear. 
“You know,” you seductively stated, your fingers outlining the length of his hard member. “The first time I ever touched myself was after watching you practice in the ring…” 
Sukuna cursed under his breath, your fingers squeezed around his length. You proceeded to stroke the heat of his member, striking hard for your first blow. “And I always do whenever I watch you fight. I get so hot and bothered seeing you in the ring. I even have a a specific vibrator I use…I named it after you…” 
“Fucking hell,” he hissed when you snuck your hand underneath his waistband, bringing your touch even closer as you palmed him over his boxers. 
“I’ve never told you that secret…” you declared, bringing your own teeth to his earlobe which you tugged mercilessly. 
Sukuna lost himself for a moment, making you think this was going to be an easy win. But you heard him steady his breathing, could his muscles flexing as if to tame his own body back from giving in.  
“I heard you once…” he stammered suddenly, closing his eyes as he recollected his memories. “Back when you were living in the dorm. I came over to drop off something, and you…ugh, fuck-…you were in the bathroom…moaning. I thought you were in pain at first, until I realized…” 
Your own cheeks burned at his confession, the surprise making you ease your grip. 
Sukuna grabbed your wrist then and pulled you away from his crotch. He placed it on your breast, and you absentmindedly pinched your nipple as he slid his hand between your legs. He lowered himself down, slithering underneath you and making your ears sting with vexation. He pushed your dress over your thighs, exposing your light colored underwear. The noticeable wet patch made his eyes glitter with satisfaction. 
“I would have jacked off on the spot, but I left. I was clearly intruding on a private matter, but that didn’t stop me from blowing a load the second I made it to my place,” he carries on, bringing his nose and pressing it against your slit. “So fucking sweet…” 
You tried to push his head away, and in response he dragged his tongue over the moist patch on your underwear. 
“Oh my god,” you moaned, your hips bucking from the sensation. 
“You’re the first person I think of when I touch myself,” he revealed, humming as his tongue lewdly licked over your underwear. 
Your whole lower belly tingled, your arousal only slicking the fabric. 
You needed to distract him from carrying on, but Sukuna hooked two fingers underneath your underwear and tugged them to the side. 
You sat up on your forearms, pressing your thighs against his cheeks to stop him from diving in. 
“Don’t cheat,” you sternly addressed, but Sukuna only scoffed vindictively. 
“You’re still wearing them, Princess…” he pointed out, and the loophole made your core pulse with anticipation. “This isn’t cheating…” 
With your panties tugged aside, Sukuna used two fingers to spread the lips apart. 
He was staring at your pussy, studying it like it was the first one he’s ever looked at. 
You wanted to say something, to ask what he was doing. But to your surprise he just placed a gentle kiss on your clit before murmuring sweetly into your sex. “You’re beautiful,” Sukuna complimented, as if expressing a blessing before a meal then finally dragging his wet tongue up along the slit of your exposed pussy. 
“You’re ch-cheating…” was all you could think of blubbering out in the haze of lust, feeling the vibration of his laugh as he slung one of your legs over his shoulder. 
It hits you then - the fact that this man indulges in going down on women. Though he never explicitly shared all the lewd details with his past partners, he did mention how it was “his favorite thing to do”. After all these years, you finally get to experience it for yourself. Feel how he latches onto your pussy as your arousal drips like he’s pouring honey out of the jar and slurping the sticky, creamy essence. You whine when he prods his tongue between your folds, expertly sliding the muscle as he rolls it in gentle waves to stir a budding orgasm. Your fingers intertwine around his locks, reading to yank him off until he slurps and sucks in just the right spot that has you simply massaging his scalp instead. 
“…’kuna~…” you mewl, your nails dragging over his scalp. 
The man circles his mouth over your tender clit, sucking on the bud before pressing another kiss on the nub. 
Your pussy throbs when he pulls away, but you were proud for holding back. 
It was your opportunity to distract him, and you shrugged off one of your straps to pull down your dress to expose your left breast. Sukuna’s attention flickered upward, watching you tweak at the hard nub as you gave him a shy grin. 
“The felt really good,” you breathily whined. 
He began crawling his way back up, and you used this opportunity to lift your body upright. He was distracted, wasn't even thinking about you finding a way out of this position. His lips instantly latched onto your nipple, his hands gripping the fat of your ass as he sucked on the point feverishly. 
You licked your lips, doing everything in your power not to fall back into the black hole of his gripping dominance.
When he released you, you instantly pushed his back against the couch and climbed on top of him so you were safely straddling him again. You forcefully dragged your wet cunt over his erection, leaving a little trail of you to stain the fabric of his pants. Sukuna grunted with pleasure, bucking his hips as you ground yours. 
“You’re not as sharp with me,” you giggled, languidly gliding your cunt over his begging member. 
“Because you’re fucking distracting,” Sukuna grieves, his hands clenching into tight balls by his side as he refuses to grab onto your ass and push for more friction. 
You felt him sink, using his shoulders as leverage to keep you perched in just the right position so your pussy was rubbing over his cock. You bit back a sound of pleasure from leaving you, and instead exhale softly as you continue rocking back and forth. 
“You’re big everywhere aren’t you,” you tantalized, noting the way his jaw tense as a rumble erupted from his chest in a deep groan which morphed into a slightly sinister laugh. 
“Let me show you.” 
He lifted his hips, making you pause at the sudden awkward shift. He pushed his sweat pants down just to meet the end of his boxers. The removal of the first layer was a small relief, but your eyes widened as he settled back down. His erection was tenting, pressing up against the thin black material and making you see a clear distinction of his balls and thick shaft. 
“Go on then,” he tempted. 
Your could feel yourself getting wet. The tightness in your belly only contracting further. 
You stared him down, knowing full well that he was manipulating you at that very moment. 
“Why stop there?” You rebutted. 
You helped pulled out the weight of his heavy cock from the restraint, watching his length smack against his lower belly as the tip dribbled with cum. Sukuna moaned when your thumb pressed against the slit, your touch dragging back and forth as you aligned yourself. 
The sounds of your panting breaths were far too loud in this quiet room. You hesitated for a minute before lowering yourself, pressing the fat tip at your entrance. You gulped down air from the stretch alone, your arousal enough lubricant for your take him. You sank, your attention on Sukuna’s whose eyes were honed in on the point of contact of your sexes. 
When your pelvis finally kiss his own, when your bodies were merged into one, you felt two hands seek your waist as you trembled in his arms. 
Your dress had fallen back over, covering him buried inside you. You were looking up at him now as his chest rose to press yours.
A puzzle piece finally connecting. 
He twitched inside you, and you clenched around his length, but neither of you moved. You forgot, for a moment, that this was just a game. That the two of you were probably going to wake up tomorrow morning not being able to face the other person. Your heart was racing, your body begging for movement but you couldn’t snap yourself out of the bold decision you already made. 
Sukuna was looking deep into our eyes, the sparkle behind his own irises making you think of embers on winter night. 
His hands slipped up your waist, over the curves of your breast and up on the length of your neck. He held your head between his palms, the tips of his thumbs lightly caressing your cheeks, with his fingers to the back of your neck. He tilted his head down slightly, his nose brushing against the bridge of yours and he did something that caught you entirely off guard. 
His lips were warm on yours, the kiss the softest gesture you’ve ever experienced from him. He held a firm kiss at first, long enough until you were crumbling apart. You parted your mouth, granting him entrance and he swiped his tongue to lick the inside. He was tracing your own, his wet and wanting mouth only growing more hungry as you eagerly accepted his kiss. Your heart hammered heavily in your chest, and goosebumps peaked all over your skin when you felt his thumbs gently caress the soft skin of your cheeks. 
You’ve never been kissed like this before. Never felt bursts of light erupt from behind your eyelids or your stomach explode with fireworks. This always just fun foreplay for you, but nothing that would make you quiver in heat. You almost came on the spot from this one little act that you’ve imagined since you were sixteen, the one which you thought would never occur because of an unspoken rule on boundaries. But it was finally happening, and it was far too magical for you to even comprehend. 
He swallowed your moan, tasted how sweet your desire actually was. The kiss was getting heated, your walls tightening around his cock His lips wrapped around your tongue. He sucked on it, before sliding his own back over yours. 
You felt so weak; were reminded that you truly were just a fragile thing in his arms and nothing more. 
He pulled away, a string of saliva sticking from his lips to yours but you shook your head as you circled your hands around his wrists. 
“More,” you cried desperately without thinking. 
Sukuna smiled against your mouth and obliged. 
You don’t know how long you both sat there making out. But every time he tried to pull you away you sighed “again,”, or moaned “don’t stop”. You didn’t even consider kissing to be an option on the table, but the more you were getting turned on the further your guard went down. Your hips started to bounce lightly, your pussy so bothered that it wanted some relief. You started fucking yourself over his length, your mouth battling with lips, teeth and tongue in a very heated stand off. Sukuna relaxed his body against the sofa, noticing you melt over him like you were wax. Your hips were moving up and down, your tongue languidly rolling around his mouth. You could feel Sukuna moving with you, bucking his hips in return. His jerks were growing sharper, his hands dropping back down to your hips to keep you in place. Your foreheads were touching, lips parting, panting heavily as you climbed and higher. The two of you were lost in the moment, forgetting everything else that led up to this. 
You were going to lose this one, you thought, and you didn’t even care. 
Your head was spinning, your heart bursting, and you reached to hold his jaw in your hand out of desperation, hoping that by clinging to him it meant that you wouldn’t disappear into the haze of it all. Entirely overwhelmed by the feeling, by this particular connection, your eyes started to water, with tears falling as your nose grew stuffy. 
“Ryomen~” you begged, your dulcet voice full of affection. The tip of his cock hit your sweetest spot and at that point you knew you were done for. 
But Sukuna jerked his hips, the groan that ripped out of him made your belly spasm. He pulled out fast, shooting his cum all over you. Your orgasm collapsed into you just seconds after, and the two of you were shaking against one another as you tried to reorient yourselves to the present. 
You were a mess, and so was he. 
Two hands found your thighs as your torso collided into his. You placed one hand on the base of his neck, and rested your cheek against the crook.  
“You lost,” you joked with a sniffle, because you were unsure what to say, and because you realized you had just fucked your best friend and had no idea what that meant. 
Sukuna just grinned, flashing you a knowing smile and a devilish smirk. 
He perched your chin under his fingers, tapping the end sweetly. 
“Doesn’t feel like I did,” he breathed, and your eyes glittered once more. 
You arched up to kiss his cheek, “I didn’t know a dragon could kiss this well…” 
Sukuna chuckled, bumping the tip of his nose to yours affectionately as he tilted his head down. “I’ve had time to practice.” 
You sighed into another kiss, “What did we do, Ryomen?” 
“Something we should have done a long time ago…” he responded in between. 
“You love me…” you breathed. 
“And you’re surprised?” He interrupted with another kiss. 
“I don’t know what that means…” 
He nipped at your bottom lip. “It means what it means. I love you. Fuck, enough that I nearly fucking came inside you without thinking. You haven’t been around and I feel like I've lost my goddamn mind in just a year…” 
Your nails dragged down his chest your heart leaping its way up your throat. 
“I love you too,” you revealed. “I love you, Ryomen. And I missed you too."
You both fell asleep on the sofa, waking up the next morning and replaying the events of your drunken stupor. After you both cleaned up and showered, you had a serious conversation over two cups of coffee. Though, you aren’t quite sure how "serious" it was, considering that Sukuna had you sitting on his lip while you were gently stroking his hair.
He revealed that the reason why he didn’t tell you about his return was also partially due to the fact that he was leaving that very night to hop on plane and fly halfway across the world. He couldn't bring himself to see you for only a short stint when he knew he needed far more time together after everything.
“Uraume is right,” he bitterly admitted, “You are a big distraction for me right now, and I have to be in the right headspace for this fight with Gojo” 
“You sound worried,” you pointed out with a furrow of your brows, your hands dragging back his locks as you threaded your digits between the strands to push his hair back from his forehead.
“If he beats me then I am done,” Sukuna blurted, “what I have built will diminish into nothing. I can’t lose to him. It’ll cost me my career…” 
Disappointment wrapped its arms around you just as Sukuna loosened his own grip. But you could hear the hint of tiny, tiny fear behind his words was enough to you feel hollow. Sukuna has never felt threatened, but this was a serious fight for him. He’s worked so hard for all of this, and he was not willing to give it up to some punk who just shot into the scene. 
“Why don’t we revisit this after the fight then?” You offered.
He glanced at you.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean..." you exhaled, "what if maybe we just need to wait a little longer before we allow ourselves to have this..."
Sukuna paused for a moment. “You’d wait for me?” He asked. 
A smile ticks at the corner of your mouth. “Yes, because you always come back to me” 
“That I do” he responds
You brush your fingers under his chin, tilting it upward once more to receive another kiss. “I’ll wait for you,” you ensure. "Because I'll always come back to you too."
₊ ⊹ .
One hand slides into the front pocket of your denim skirt, and Sukuna rests his chin on top of your head. You smile to yourself, though he can’t see it, because he’s busy watching you slice bits of fruit as you place it into one of his ceramic bowls. When you were kids, Sukuna would have to look around your arm whenever he hugged you from behind. The years show the evolution of this gesture, from him suddenly perching over your shoulder until he could simply see over your crown. 
He sighs, his other arm curling over your belly as he embraces you. 
“Don’t add the blueberries,” he mumbles. 
You oblige, your back leaning into the breadth of his chest. 
The two of you haven’t touched one another since that faithful night. 
Up until the fight, you and Sukuna simply returned back to the way things used to be. Except this time there were little alterations in your day to day conversations that indicated a shift. 
For one, Sukuna was a flirt. 
You were use to this commentary, but now that your friendship has taken a turn you find your cheeks growing heated more often around him because his words weren't gray. What he says toward you, and the way he compliments you rings very, very true.  There is also a deep tenderness for one another that you both are finally allowing to express freely. You don't dull your affection, and instead allow it to overflow. And last of all, the longing to be back together was pathetically obvious. 
You placed the strawberries, sliced peaches and peeled oranges into the bowl, your fingers a little tacky. “I need to wash my hands,” you indicate, and Sukuna begrudgingly releases you from his hold. 
You’re surprised that he didn’t pounce on you so quickly. 
The two of you only had one other sexual moment just a few months ago. 
Sukuna video called you one evening, his face tight with frustration. 
He was exhausted from training, and even more drained by the press. 
They were claiming that his new “pumped physique” was due to steroid use, and one little rumor had the representatives of the boxing association hounding him like he was a real culprit in this make believe story. Suddenly, his hard work and training was being reduced to the thing that the press claimed him to be: a cheater.
He called you to ensure you that everything was alright. That he was forced to take tests which all came out negative (obviously) and and effectively proved his innocence. 
“I can’t wait to be home,” he breathed with annoyance. “I’m fucking sick of this shit…” 
You were in the bathroom getting ready for bed, gently patting your moisturizer onto your face. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you stated, offering him only an apology because it's all you could give. “Is there something I can do to make you feel better?” 
Sukuna arched his brow, his attention hovering in front of the screen. 
“Yeah, you can take off that robe you’re wearing…” he teased. 
You jerked your head to the camera in surprise, noting his cheeky tone. 
“Ha-ha…” you remarked. 
“I’m being serious,” he answered back, his mouth dropping into an instant frown. “I’ve had a shitty day, and I can’t even do the one thing I want to help me relax…” 
You arched your brow. “And what might that be?” 
He revealed his canines, a wolfish grin brightening that handsome face. “Fucking my girl...” 
Your heart thumped, and you swallowed the sudden tightness in your throat. You picked up your lip balm and dabbed your finger into the ointment before gliding it over your bottom lip. 
“Your girl, huh?” You reiterated casually, hoping that Sukuna wouldn’t quite pick up on the catch in your throat. 
“You’re always my girl, even when you weren’t mine to call that…” he added softly, his voice pulling your attention back towards him. 
He wasn’t kidding around, with the look on his face entirely serious. The tips of your ears stung with a heat that you couldn’t explain, and you just had the sudden urge to reach through the screen and pull his face back towards you. 
You wanted to kiss him, to tell him that you always felt like you belonged to him too. 
The two of you an inseparable pair for a reason. 
Instead, you stripped down to reveal your naked form. You perched the camera towards the back for a wider shot, and allowed your body to speak to Sukuna instead. One of your legs was resting on the bathroom sink, the other grounding you on the floor. You had the camera facing your cunt, with your fingers buried deep inside. But it was nothing compared to the stretch of Sukuna’s digits, wasn’t filling you enough to reach you to the pleasurable climax you desired. 
“It’s not enough,” you gasped in between breaths, watching Sukuna passionately jerk off from he other side of the screen, “Need you, ‘kuna~” you whined, “it’s not enough with you…” 
The memory hits you, making your lower belly tighten.
You dry your hands off to face him, only to find the man standing with an expression of guilt on his face. 
The same concern you had earlier when you left the elevator reappeared once more. 
You pick up the fruit bowl from the counter, trying your best not to give the discomfort attention. You offer Sukuna a strawberry, lifting it towards his mouth but he instantly circles his hand around your wrist and pulls it back down.
“I need to tell you something,” 
You scrunch your brows, and place the fruit bowl back onto the counter. 
“What’s wrong?”
Sukuna closes his eyes, a look of shame washing over him. 
You take a step closer, wrap both arms around his waist and rest your chin on his chest. 
“What’s wrong?” You repeat, coaxing him to speak. 
“I nearly threw the fight tonight.” 
You jerk your head up in shock, your lips parting as your jaw falls from the confession. 
“You…what?” 
Sukuna rubs his tired face with one hand, using every ounce of courage to look back at you. 
“There was a moment in the ring when Satoru threw a relatively decent punch,” he explains, “I had the lights knocked out of me for a split second. When I turned to face him it hit me then...that I could fake dodging his next attack before giving him the opening that he needs to win. One more hit and I’d...collapse. Let the referee do his count, and that would be it…”
You knew the exact moment he was referring to. It was the point in the match where your ears were ringing because you truly thought that you would be witnessing a loss on Sukuna's part. The entire crowd was muttering in shock, all of them on the precipice of a potential shift in legacy. 
“I didn’t follow through because I think Satoru noticed a change in my demeanor. It was only a few seconds, but the kid is fucking sharp. He wasn't smugly determined then, he was looking at me with...confusion. I couldn't do it then. I didn't want him to get a cop out on my end. So, I carried on the fight the way I would. After the match, I thought I could just let the moment pass but Uraume tried to bring it up later and I shut it down because I didn't want to admit it. Anyway, I needed to just get it off my chest…” 
“You were going to give him that win?” You expressed with deep concern, tightening your hold around his waist as you watched Sukuna’s face to turn hard. 
It hits you then - that the Champ, The Monster of The Ring, The Beast and King Himself was…burnt out. Sukuna’s fire had been gone for quite some time, you just thought it would reignite after tonight. 
But it didn't.
You bring your hands to his biceps and caress your palms up and down. 
“Ryomen,” you speak, licking your lips with hesitation before finally asking. “Is this what you still want?” 
Contemplative eyes meet yours as his palms find both your cheeks. He drops his head down, his lips seeking yours as he takes into account the gash on the muscle, then places a careful kiss on your mouth. 
“I just want you,” he hums. 
“M’right here,” you murmur back, “Not going anywhere.” 
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he adds on, “that’s all I could think about during the fight. Was just coming home to you, coming home to us…” 
A shiver runs down your back, but your body vibrates with an innocent excitement. “We don’t have to wait anymore,” you whisper. “I’m not going anywhere no matter what happens. No matter what comes next…” 
Sukuna looks at you then, knowing full well what your statement means. 
Once news breaks out of the two of you being an actual item, heaven knows what might happen. If the paparazzi have been plaguing Sukuna like a curse this whole time, it was only going to get even more complicated with you so intimately intertwined in his world. And now that he was back on top as the champion, he knew full well that all eyes were going to remain on him.
From when he was a child, no matter what he believed about his life that would deter you from him. His broken home wasn't enough to push you. His anger wasn't enough to push you. His detachment wasn't enough to push you. The chaos that is his world wasn't enough to push you.
You have always remained solidly by his side.
His constant. The only thing in the world that he can rely on.
“I love you,” he states under his breath, leaning in to peck you for a second time. 
“I love you too,” you repeated with a smile against his lips. 
There was no epic moment around this sober reveal, no exceptional circumstance other than the privacy of it being spoken with no one else to hear it other than the two of you.
You loved one another, in the deepest possible way you could love a person. From there your lips parted, and you carefully kissed the man before you as he scooped you up in his arms. 
He repeated the phrase again when he placed you on the kitchen counter, with his fingers buried deep within the folds of your wet pussy. 
You moaned it back to him after he carried you into his bedroom, with your fists tangled between his hair as he ate you out. 
He grunted it out one last time, with his hand gripping the headboard as he watched your body melt into the matters when he thrusted his dick in and out of you as he made love to you feverishly. 
And you mumbled it back one last time while he held you in his arms, the two of you falling asleep from a very long night of unbridled passion. 
Sukuna was the first to wake at the crack of dawn. He rolled over to grab  his phone from the side table in an attempt to turn off his alarm before it woke you up as well. As he looked at the device, his heart sank. 
A number of notifications were blowing up his phone and it was making him feel dizzy. 
News articles were already painting him in all his glory after his fight with Satoru, with his opponent looking battered in defeat. The press had finally flipped, and suddenly began to revere him the way he deserved to be. There were text messages from an influx of people, either congratulating him or wanting get his thoughts on the match. Sukuna feels the tremor in his hand build as he starts to scroll through the notifications. 
He places the device on the blanket in front of him, his eyes looking out to the large windows as he watches the sky shift from a deep violet to a lilac blue. He turns this head to gaze at you. This image of you by his side, in a position that he’s seen multiple times in his life, feels different now too. The soft glow of new daylight washes over your body, and the stillness of the hour has him believing that he actually made it to heaven. Sukuna places a soft kiss on your forehead, then carefully kicks off the blankets. He searches for his boxers, then pulls on the pair before stepping out into his balcony. 
He calls Uraume. 
Usually they pick up quick, but Sukuna counts down the rings until they do. 
“My King,” they tease, their voice a little groggy. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 
Sukuna watches a bird fly across the horizon, the ease in his chest an affirmation to what he’s about to say. 
“I’m retiring,” he announces. “I’m done.” 
The silence hangs in the air, streaks of orange and yellow begin to tint the clouds. 
“I had a feeling you were going to say that…” 
“is that why it took you long to answer my call?” 
Uraume huffs out a laugh. “I guess I was hoping for another piece of news…” 
“Are you mad?” Sukuna asks, only honoring Uraume with his worry because he knows how much they have done for him to begin with. 
Uraume sighs, “I’m not actually. It’s the smartest decision you can make. You retire now and you basically leave the game while sitting at the top. You’ve earned that throne, and it won’t be easy for these rookies to take it from you so quickly…” 
Sukuna chuckles, “you’re right about that…” 
Uraume lets the quiet overtake the conversation. “I’ll give it a few days before I break the news to the press.” 
“And then what?” 
“There’s definitely going to be a lot of interviews, and a retirement party that you will have to attend wether you like it or not…” 
“And what about you?” 
Uraume hums, “You and I had a good run. If it’s the end for you, then I guess I can finally retire too..” 
Sukna furrows his brows, his nails scratch over the rail on his balcony. “I don’t want you doing that because of me…” 
Uraume laughs, “You’ve earned my loyalty, what can I say?” 
“Thank you,” Sukuna breathes, “For everything you’ve done for me. You’re more than just a manager, but I think you already know that...” 
“I know it,” Uraume answers back. “And I also know that this is the right decision because you sound…relieved.” 
He hears you then. 
You were calling out to him, “‘kuna, where are you?~” 
He turns his back to face the railing, missing the sun breaking through the horizon at the sound of your voice. He smiles thinking about the adorable, frustrated look on your face when you probably reached out and couldn’t find him, and he slowly begins making his approach back into his bedroom. 
“I am,” he speaks to Uraume, “I’ve got to go. Will talk about this later.” 
He hangs up the phone, and returns to the shadow of deep, restful slumber. He places the phone back on his side table, and smiles at the exact disappointed expression that he pictured when he was outside. 
The second you feel his warmth back in your presence, you snuggle up into his frame. 
“Where did you go?” You mumble with a yawn, and Sukuna wraps his strong arms around you as he nestles back into your body. 
“Nowhere,” he breathes, easing back into your embrace. 
“Heard you talking,” you add on, you eyes still shut but your arm slinking around his neck to keep him close.
It’s taken you both over two decades to get here, and he wasn’t going to allow anything to come in the way of that. “I’ll tell you about it later,” he reassures, keeping his loving eyes on you as he clutches onto his bright, new future with his favorite person.
A life that you both will now get to live in peaceful happiness. 
₊ ⊹ .
:note: hi, everyone! long form fics has been really draining for me these days but these one shots feel like a great refresher. I know this is a monster of a fic, but I hope you enjoy the story. comments and reblogs are appreciated!
tags (only tagging those who asked): @after-laughter-come-tears @not-9ok @axxk17 @sukubusss @lavenderdaydream97 @charlie-xo @kunasthiast @celestep004 @brownskinnedgirll @sukunasweetheart @kunascutie @joontroverted @emi311 @yuujispinkhair @starmapz @bellyei
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ladsonlads · 4 months ago
Text
Impartial Hearts | Sylus - Part Two
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Pairing -> Boss Sylus x Non MC Reader
Parts -> Part One | Part Two
Synopsis -> You’ve been working as Onychinus’s accountant for two years, and you’ve been carrying two heavy secrets for a third of it. You were in love with your boss, and your mother was dying.
A/N -> I'm sorry it took so long. I have been obsessing over trying to make part two perfect but I don't think I can. It's time I share my baby with you, and I really hope you enjoy it.
Tags -> Angst, fluff :)
Trigger Warnings -> Character death, heavily mentions grief. Some parts are suggestive but there is no smut.
Word Count -> 18.8K (it got kinda crazy)
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Late October
It was cold, dark and gloomy; the weather a perfect pathetic fallacy to the narrative of your life. The freshly disturbed patch of grass failed to convey the significance of who laid underneath it. It was vexing, how the world continued to spin on it’s axis despite the fact that it stopped spinning for you. 
It hurt to think about the events that led to your undoing. The weeks prior to the moment your mother drew her last breath. You were a cracked vase filled with wilting flowers and overflowing regret. Every breath you took consumed more energy than you could spare and yet the world just. Kept. Spinning. 
“I brought you flowers. Yellow tulips, by the way.” The words felt like lead on your tongue. It was one thing to accept your mother was never coming back, it was another to try to act normal about it. “I know you never cared for them, but I didn’t think leaving a pack of cigarettes on your grave was very tasteful.” You bitterly smiled to yourself at the memories of your mom sneaking a cigarette in the backyard when she thought you were asleep. It was a nasty habit you did everything to rid her of. A fruitless attempt to protect her from the inevitable. 
“I’m sorry I haven’t figured out your epitaph yet. It’s just so hard to condense your entire life into a few words. Plus, they charge by the letter, so I’m trying to be really selective.” It felt weird, speaking into empty space, but you read online that it helped with grief, so you tried anyway. 
That was how you approached most things nowadays. Eating, drinking, sleeping, they all seemed meaningless. But, you knew you couldn’t survive on just antagonism and mourning, so you did it anyway. 
“Zayne called again. I know you told me not to hate him and that it wasn’t his fault, but I can’t bring myself to agree.” 
The moment Zayne told you that the heart that could save your mother’s life was going to someone else replayed in your mind like a scratched vinyl stuck on an aggravating note.
“I got so frustrated by his constant calls that I threw my phone into the ocean.” You let out a sad laugh. “Guess that’s the last time I bring anything with me when I’m walking along the coast.” 
You paused for a moment, feeling stupid. But you had so much to say to her, it all just began spilling out.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I might lose the house. I burned through all my paid leave, and the idea of going back to work for Sylus makes me want to put my head through a wood-chipper. I know I have to, but how can I focus on work when I have nothing left to work for?” You tasted the tears before you felt them, the saltiness reminded you of your weekends at the beach with your mom. You did everything to get out of joining her, you hated the beach, but it was her favourite place to be and in a desperate attempt to cling on to whatever was left of her, you forced it to be yours too.
“I’m sorry I never got you that house you dreamed of, or the dog. I’m sure there are lots of dogs in heaven, and at least the dogs there have been screened. With my luck any dog I would’ve gotten you would’ve been evil.” You teetered around the grievance you truly wanted to apologise for. 
“I’m sorry I couldn’t spend much time with you before you passed away. I was so sure you would get the transplant. I tried so hard to save for it. I should’ve been with you. If I knew—” The sobs raked through you with a force that knocked the air out of your lungs. You sat down next to her tombstone, leaning your head against the chiseled rock. 
There were moments when you’d wake up, and in the haze of your muddled mind you’d forget she was dead. But then the ache in your body is deciphered by your mind, and you’re reminded of just how much you’ve lost. Maybe that’s why they called it mourning. Grief dawned on you like the rising sun.
Life had a way of being entirely unfair, and there was nowhere to hide from fate’s piercing claws. And as if to ensure you hadn’t forgotten just how cruel life could be, your head whipped around at the sound of footsteps behind you to find the last person you wanted to see.
Sylus was dressed in a long black coat hanging effortlessly off of his broad shoulders, a black dress shirt that really should’ve been buttoned up to the top, and a pair of black slacks that made his long legs look impossibly longer. He looked every bit the cunning grim reaper, and it wasn’t just because he was surrounded by graves.
“I didn’t know you were back in the N109 Zone.” The words came out harsher than you intended as your head returned to it’s position against the rock. 
Sylus stopped in front of you, lowering himself to his haunches so that you would be face-to-face. It stung to look at him, so you focused on picking at the grass instead. 
“I only got back a few hours ago. I heard about your mother. I’m sorry.” Having been deprived of his voice for over a month, you cursed the butterflies that coursed through you like muscle memory. Part of you wished he’d returned disfigured, but you knew it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Ugly or devastatingly beautiful, the storm that was Sylus could not be stopped, only weathered. 
“Sorry that she died or sorry that you weren’t there?” The bitterness in your tone was unfamiliar to you. Even though you knew it was unfair of you to expect him to have stayed, he left immediately after he dropped you off at the hospital and you hoped he’d have been there just a little longer. It didn’t help that you didn’t hear from him until two weeks later, and by then you were too engrossed in your battle against Akso hospital’s medical board to respond. 
“You haven’t been answering my calls; they’re not even going through anymore. You haven’t blocked me, have you?” Sylus countered your question with one of his own. If you cared enough, you might’ve called him out on his diversion. 
“No, my phone broke.” That was an understatement if there ever was one. 
“How long ago?”
“A week.” That much was true and since you couldn’t afford a smart phone, a shitty $30 flip phone weighed down your pocket. 
“And all the times I called before then?” Sylus’s eyes perused you with intensity, and you suddenly felt self-conscious. You weren’t dressed well, in a pair of black sweatpants that were too big on you and a matching hoodie. Grieving people were allowed to dress terribly without judgement, Y/N. It’s okay.
“I didn’t feel like picking up.” The grass continued to bare the brunt of your nerves as you answered. The you that wasn’t effectively an orphan would’ve made up some excuse to protect his feelings, but you were resolved to change that. Your mother was strong, independent, and she never backed down from a fight. Not against men like Sylus, and not against her illness. If you wanted to honour her memory then you had to live your life the way she’d want you to.
“Do you have a phone now?” 
You reached into the pocket of your sweatpants to take out the grey flip phone. You watched as Sylus bit back a laugh.
“I’ll get you a new one.”
“I don’t need you to get me anything.” You quickly retorted.
“You’re going to need a phone from this century if you’re working for me, Y/N.” He said it so casually, as if you were put on this earth solely to serve him as his accountant. 
“Right, about that…” Your determination to be confident and unapologetic began to dwindle as you wondered how to tell Sylus you needed more time.
“No. Resigning is not an option.” Twelve minutes. It took Sylus twelve minutes to return to his usual controlling self. You were impressed, truly, it was a new record after all. 
“We don’t have a blood pact, Sylus. I can resign if I want to. Besides, that’s not what I was going to say. I need more time off.” You didn’t sound very convincing, but it wasn’t like you could change who you were overnight. It would take a lifetime to unlearn your bad habits. 
Sylus looked conflicted, as if he didn’t know what to say. When he chose to finally open his mouth, you wished he hadn’t.
“I’ve given you a month, Y/N. That’s enough.” His statement came out so matter-of-factly, you wondered if you had imagined it. A month was not nearly enough to recover from losing your mom, but you figured a man who killed people for a living wouldn’t understand. 
“It’s only been two weeks since she died. And I’m sure the temp you’ve got is perfectly competent.”
“The temp doesn’t know the company like you do and I haven’t bothered teaching him on the premise that you were returning. If you’re not back soon I can’t promise you’ll have a job to come back to.” 
The tension in the air dissipated as you began to laugh. Loudly. Obnoxiously. Hysterically. 
“You— You seriously think I care whether or not I have a job? I can barely will myself to eat right now—employment is not my priority.” You wiped back the tears that began to spill out. Their origin unknown, between your hysteria and sorrow, your eyes were constantly puffy.
“People die all the time, sweetheart. It’s no reason to throw your future away.” Sylus stood up straight at the end of his statement, holding his hand out to you. 
The angel on your shoulder whispered that in his own peculiar way, this was his attempt at comforting you. But you stopped listening to that angel when they buried your mom under six-feet of dirt, and you couldn’t help the word vomit that escaped you like water barrelling out of a splintered dam. 
You pushed away his hand, and stood up to look at him with a ferocity you didn’t know you possessed.
“I get that something really dark and twisted must have happened in your youth to make you so heartless, but most people have shitty childhoods, sweetheart. We choose not to be terrible, insufferable people because of it.” The unbridled rage you’d spend so long trying to suppress seeped out of you uncontrollably as you screamed at Sylus. You walked toward him, your anger taking hold of you as you began to push him away. A few months ago you would’ve given anything to touch him, now all you cared about was making him feel a semblance of the pain he instilled in you. 
“Some of us choose to feel our emotions in their entirety, regardless of how much it hurts, because we’re not scared to love and lose. You’re a coward, Sylus and you may think that my mother dying is just an inevitable consequence of life, but my world will never be the same.” In an attempt to calm down, you took a deep breath.
“You can judge me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that when you die, no one will mourn you.” The word vomit continued, and when you saw the hurt flash briefly within his eyes, you felt the arms of regret begin to sink their claws into you. 
You shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t you.
But before you could take it all back, Sylus’s phone began ringing and you figured from the urgency in which he answered it must’ve been her. 
“I lost track of time, I’ll be right there.” He spoke in a low voice in what you could only assume was an attempt to mask the fact that he was leaving you for something more important, again. 
He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.
“Just go.” You waved him off and turned back around to face your mother’s grave, though now the tears welling up in your eyes couldn’t be entirely attributed to the grief. 
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Early November
You weren’t sure time could heal the gaping wound your mother’s passing left behind, but grief had settled into your life like an imposing aunt. It was in your home, touching your things, ruining your food, and never once leaving you alone. It didn’t feel so all-consuming anymore, but it clung onto you constantly like a shadow. 
You were watching the third Harry Potter movie at 8am when you received the eviction notice via Email. You’d been expecting it, ultimately you were behind on rent, but the reason plastered on the paper was exponentially worse than your own incompetence.
…Selling to developers…suburban expansion project…
As if losing your childhood home wasn’t bad enough, they were planning on destroying it. Memories were bound to decay with time, that was an inevitable consequence of being human. Sooner or later you’d forget the way your mom dressed, or the smell of her perfume. Tangible things like photographs, places, they kept those memories anchored. You couldn’t lose the house, it wasn’t an option. 
You spent the next hour trying to reason with your landlord over the phone, but he was committed to selling. He rejected every single one of your proposals, though even you knew they were weak at best. The developers were offering significantly more than market value, there was no way you could beat that. Stupid gentrification. But, your landlord told you he was sympathetic, and the deal hadn’t been finalised just yet. If you could match the developer’s offer by the end of the month, he’d gladly sell it to you instead.
Of course the developer’s offer was $800,000, and by the looks of your financials, you were about $796,312 short. 
Desperate for a catharsis for your unending frustration, you screamed into the throw pillow on your couch until your throat felt raw. Then, you opened up your laptop to figure out a plan. 
30 minutes later you had:
Sell your kidney to an organ broker and use the money to get a loan from any dodgy bank that would accept your mediocre credit score. 
Dabble briefly in prostitution and use the money to get a loan from any dodgy bank that would accept your mediocre credit score.
Become a squatter and protest the demolition of your home environmental-activist style. 
“Wow, Y/N. Graduated top of your class and this was all you could come up with, huh?” You muttered to yourself as you stared at the list of terrible ideas. Your mind hadn’t come up with something so horrific since the bed-in-breakfast Mother’s Day fiasco when you were 11. 
The only option that didn’t end in bodily harm or a prison sentence was to work as many jobs as humanly possible for the next few weeks in hopes you could somehow manage to accumulate the deposit for a loan. You could probably sell some appliances too, and maybe revisit the kidney idea if it came to it. 
Despite it being a long-shot, you had to try. You changed into a pair of flared leggings and a sweater. It was basic and borderline mismatched but traversing your explosive closet was a large undertaking you tended to avoid. You dug a copy of your old resume out from your file drawer, after all, it wasn’t like your experience as Onychinus’s accountant was going to do you any good. Further, listing Sylus as a reference would ensure you never got a job again. 
You figured the easiest place to start was the central district of the N109 zone, bars and restaurants there were constantly hiring and from what you’d heard their only requirement was that you had two functioning legs and arms. But when you tried to leave through the door to begin the job search you collided with a formidable wall. 
Since when was there a—
“Where you headed to, Y/N?” The familiar voice was so surprising it made you jump, the action accompanied by a shrill scream.
“What the fuck? Why are you just standing outside my door?” You rarely ever swore and you were sure that if your mother was still alive she’d throw her shoe at you for using the devil’s language. But of all the things you expected to see that morning, Sylus outside your door was not one of them. 
“Is that any way to welcome your old employer?” Sylus stepped into your home without an invitation. Conclusive proof against your theory that he was secretly a vampire. 
“What are you doing here?” You asked again, still staring at Sylus like he sprouted a second head. You couldn’t think of a single reason why he’d show up at your place of residence, he never did while you were still his employee.
“I need you to come back.” You choked back a laugh at his ridiculous request. Was he insane?
“Go to hell.” Your vicious response didn’t sway Sylus. 
“I’ve fired an accountant every week since you left. The accounts are in complete disarray, half my businesses are behind on their bills, the other half have been paying the wrong amounts to the wrong companies. My investors are unhappy, my debtors are one week away from assuming I’ve gone bankrupt and I haven’t slept in weeks. Come. Back.” While it stroked your ego to hear that the organisation was suffering in your absence, you couldn’t just forget the terrible way he’d treated you in and out of the workplace. 
“You insisted I was especially replaceable and now you’re saying you can’t replace me?” You chose to remind him of just how horrid of an employer he was, an action he didn’t appreciate. 
“If you’re going to dwell on the semantics I’d rather just cut to the chase. What’s it going to take to get you back?” Sylus’s tone suggested he was truly trying to negotiate with you. Of course a man like him didn’t know how to take no for an answer. 
“Pigs to fly.” You quipped, opening your door in hopes he’d get the hint and leave. 
“Y/N, I’m serious. We can’t survive without you.” His desperation went straight to your head, but you stood your ground. 
“Then die.” You tried to shove him out of your doorway, but he was about as easy to move as a truck. 
“Everyone has something they desire, sweetheart. Name your price.” While you were ready to fire up a quick retort, his suggestion reminded you of the very reason you were about to leave the house. 
Perhaps this was a sign; you could swallow your pride if it meant you got to keep your home. 
You pretended to give it thought, sighing loudly in contemplation. “Fine. I want a sign-on bonus. Or in this case, a re-sign-on bonus, I guess…” You trailed off, unsure if he would agree. 
“Alright, how much?” He was quick to accept your terms, and you decided to test the waters of just how desperate he was for your return. 
“A million dollars.” 
“Done.” 
Dammit, you should’ve asked for more. 
“I want a personal driver too, I’m sick of biking to work.” You would’ve been okay with just the bonus, after all, it was insanely generous. But you’d be a fool not to milk this opportunity for what it was worth.
“Anything else, princess?” The condescending nickname only added fuel to the fire as you fired off more requests. 
“I don’t want to share my office with the twins anymore, they’re loud and annoying and they have no respect for the sanctity of my monthly budgets.”
“Okay.”
You masked your shock at his sudden magnanimity. “One last thing. Since you’ve come to the realisation that I am, in fact, a valuable asset to your organisation, you’re not allowed to be a dick to me anymore.” 
“Elaborate.”
“No more calling me stupid or other degrading insults, threatening my job security, threatening my life — just no more threats in general — and if you’re going to assign me extra work that is beyond the scope of my job description, a please and thank you would be nice.”
“You’re pushing it, Y/N.” Of course treating his employees like human beings was the most difficult request. 
“You just agreed to give me a million dollars and being nice to me is where you draw the line?” 
Sylus sighed, deliberating in silence for a moment. When he saw that your resolve was unrelenting, he begrudgingly agreed. He wasn’t sure where your newfound confidence was coming from, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it the slightest bit attractive. 
“Alright, you’ve made your case. I’ll agree to your conditions. Now, please fix it.” 
It took every fibre of your being not to break out into song and dance at your victory. “Let me get my coat.”
______________
You stared at the horrific mess your beautiful spreadsheet had turned in to. This was a disaster. A colossal, unfathomable disaster. “How could you let it get this bad?” Your voice was dripping with fear, it was like staring a train wreck. 
“It wasn’t like it happened on purpose. Besides, if you’d never—” Sylus interrupted his own sentence which you were sure contained an insult, and you could almost hear the evil chuckle resounding in your head at the sight of his obedience. This was going to be fun. 
“This is going to take forever to fix.” It would actually only take the day, but you didn’t need to tell him that.
“I need it fixed by the end of the week. Please.” He looked pained as he added the nicety. Soooooo much fun.
“Add on a massage chair for my office and I’ll get it done by Wednesday.” You wondered just how far you could push his desperation. 
“Deal.” He held his hand out for you to shake and when you did, you felt a strange sense of accomplishment. Now you could tell people ‘How to Tame Your Dragon’ was loosely based on your life. 
“You know, Sylus, I’m liking this new dynamic.” Your shit-eating grin couldn’t be wiped off of your face no matter how hard you tried.
“Oh I can tell. Now, get to work.” Sylus made a show of pulling out your office chair for you, and when you sat in it for the first time in two months, you felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. And for once, the recollection of your past didn’t hurt as much as it usually did.  
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Mid-November
This time around, your employment under Sylus was much more pleasant. Surprisingly, he’d actually adhered to your conditions. 
The twins were slightly offended that you no longer wanted to share your office with them, but their gratefulness for your return trumped any antagonism they had for you. You were kind of a celebrity in Onychinus’s executive team, their saviour, if you will. 
But, the enjoyment of your newly established status could not be savoured. Undoing months of mistakes was turning out to be positively exhausting. You were an accountant; socially awkward, stuck to her Excel sheets, spent most of her free time indulging in shitty rom-coms. You were not built for briefing CEOs, Chairmen, investors, subsidiaries and of course, debtors, on your commitment to stability via video call.
Sylus insisted it had to be you, even though he usually handled the bureaucratic part of the organisation. Something about him not being able to answer their questions regarding the numbers. You told him you would tell him what to say through an ear piece like a spy movie, but he responded with a resounding no. 
It was more like ‘hell will freeze over before I turn into a glorified puppet, Y/N, blah blah blah’.
Every single one-on-one conference call made you feel like you were getting hives. Not to mention the active effort it took you to refrain from making stupid jokes at every opportunity. When the last one with the representative from Onychinus’s main bank was over, you had officially smoothed over all bad blood between Onychinus and it’s stakeholders.
Giving yourself a moment to recalibrate from the sheer amount of social interaction you had been subjected to, you glared at the shared calendar event. ‘Miss Hunter’s Birthday in 13 days’.
You tried to distract yourself from that familiar sinking feeling in your gut with your work. Sylus never remembered your birthday, but it wasn’t like it mattered. You were his accountant, he was your boss. That was the extent of your relationship, even though you’d both said things to each other that would cause your HR department, if you had one, to self-emulate. But in the chaos of buying your home, going back to work and learning how to navigate life with your unwanted companion; grief, you’d forgotten all about your feelings for Sylus.
They weren’t gone but they were muted, like a voice screaming out to you while your head was underwater. Most of the time they were easy to ignore, but in times like these they were too loud to overlook.
You couldn’t dwell on your self-pity for long because there was a knock at your door. No one ever knocked on your door, people just tended to barge in.
“Come in?” Confusion dripped from your voice. When the door opened to a pair of twins with shameful smiles, you knew they were about to ask you for a favour.
“We… fucked up.” Three words you never wanted to hear coming out of either Luke or Kieran’s mouth.
“What have you done?”
“Long story short. Boss sent us to pick up a gem for Miss Hunter’s birthday. It’s really rare. The man who owns them is this older, heart of gold type old guy who refuses to sell to nefarious people because of his outdated principles. He wouldn’t give it to us, said something about us being part of Onychinus. We knew if boss didn’t get this gem today he’d have our heads displayed on mantels in his office, so we threatened the old man with a gun and then an entire arsenal of security appeared out of thin air and we were blacklisted from the property.” Kieran’s explanation left you astounded. 
The twins had their fair share of asinine mistakes, but this one might have taken the cake. 
“You threatened an old man with a gun…” 
“Yes.” Kieran responded. 
“Over a gem?” You asked in disbelief. 
“A very rare gem!” Luke corrected. 
“Huh. How am I supposed to help?” It was a genuine question, you didn’t really see a way out of this one. 
“Can you go and convince the old man to sell the gem to you?” Kieran’s request made your eyes widen in protest.
“No way! I’ve had my fill of uncomfortable business meetings.” And wasn’t that the truth. If you had to see one more man in a business suit ask you ‘if you even knew what you were talking about’ you might throw your laptop into the first body of water you could find. 
“Please, Y/N. Sylus will kill us. Do you want our deaths to hang over your conscience?” 
Luke’s question was an innocent hyperbole, but at the mention of deaths hanging over your conscience, you were reminded of your mom. Your face dropped, your fingers slowly forgetting what they were supposed to type. Kieran, the more observant twin, elbowed Luke.
“Fuck, Y/N. I’m sorry, I forgot.”
“No, no, it’s fine. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me, I’m not going to burst into tears.” You weren’t sure that was true quite yet, but fake it till you make it, right? 
“Will you help us? Please. We’ll owe you big time.” The line was clearly rehearsed since they said it in unison, or maybe it was some weird twin telepathy thing. Either way, it freaked you out so much you agreed. 
“Fine, what’s the address?”
_____________
You knocked on the large wooden door of a beautiful home. It was classically designed, a perfect intersection between modernity and the timeless complexity of archaic house designs. It was rare to see homes like these in a society that prided itself on progress. 
When you heard the sound of soft feet shuffling toward the door, you felt the guilt eat at you internally. You were tricking an old man into selling a gem to people he very reasonably did not want to sell to.
“Y/M/N?” 
Did he— why did he call you by your mother’s name?
“That was my mother, I’m her daughter, Y/N.”
“Oh, thank god, I was beginning to think I’d finally lost it. Come in, come in.” 
Your interest had been piqued, and you forgot all about the gem as you entered the old man’s home.
“I must say, I’m surprised you’re here. Did your mother send you?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “She passed away just over a month ago.”
“Oh god. I’m so sorry, dear. Are you alright?” The question was filled with so much warmth it made tears well up in your eyes. Your mother never had any friends, and you were estranged from your extended family. You were all alone in your grief, and hearing someone who knew your mom in some capacity ask you if you were alright felt bittersweet.
“Yeah. I’m doing okay. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you know her?”
“You don’t know? I figured that was why you were here.” 
Right. The reason you were here, the gem.
“No, I’m actually here entirely coincidentally, I came to acquire a gem.”
“Which gem were you after, dear?” He asked the question as he looked around his living room for something.
“The Painite one.”
He stopped pacing and turned to you with an accusatory stare. “This wouldn’t happen to be related to those two rowdy boys who came by earlier, right?”
“Well…” You couldn’t lie to him. He looked like the old man from ‘Up’, it was entirely unfair. 
“I’m afraid I can’t sell to you. I’m concerned you’ve even gotten yourself wrapped up in such a terrible organisation.” He shook his head, his disappointment evident in his tone. 
“Look, I know what you’ve heard, but most of the rumours you hear about Onychinus don’t have a modicum of truth to them.”
“Then why hasn’t your boss cleared them up?” A great question. 
“In this business its good to have a reputation that instills fear in others. You’ve seen what people do for Protocores and black-market items. Onychinus serves as a… regulatory body of the underworld, the only people they harm are those that harm others.” The practiced speech came from years of listening to Sylus give it to yourself and others. 
“I don’t know dear, I’ve heard some horrific things about their leader, Sylus.” You were probably responsible for a few of those rumours…
“The only horrific thing about him is his sharp tongue. Seriously, he has a way of finding your worst insecurity and then using it to drag you through the dirt.” Recognising the unhelpful tangent, you digressed.
“But when it comes to business, he’s fair and when someone hurts the people he cares about, he’s merciless. He has a good heart, it’s just encased under a very thick layer of stone.” When he didn’t look convinced, you continued. 
“In fact, he wants this gem for a woman. She’s special to him and its her birthday in a few days. She’s a hunter, by the way, she saves lives. So, even if you don’t want to sell to Sylus because he’s probably half demon, you should sell it to her. You know, by proxy.” The argument was a stretch but you couldn’t help your rambling. 
“You are the spitting image of your mother.” 
The comment caught you off-guard.
“You think so?”
“I knew your mother when she was your age. She used to sing live at a bar I frequented with my friends. It was a simpler time, before wanderers attacked. I was head over heels in love with her, and I knew she felt the same way about me. But, she got wrapped up with the wrong guy, a real bad man, and it took finding out she was pregnant with you to break it off with him.” He recounted his past as he continued to search his drawers for something, when he came back to the couch in front of yours, he handed you a photo.
It was of your mother, except she was much younger. She was on a stage performing, a part of her life she never told you about. She looked happy and was glowing with the kind of ethereal beauty that never dwindled with time. He was right, you looked a lot like her. 
“Can I keep this?” You looked up at the man, and he gave you a small nod. 
“Of course. You know, I offered to help her when I found out, said I’d raise the baby as my own, but she told me I was destined for more than she could give me. Said she had to do this on her own. She was stubborn but she loved boundlessly, Y/N, just like you.”
You were confused, this man hadn’t known you for very long, how could he know such a thing? “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know what that Sylus man has done to deserve your adoration, but I can tell you love him. And for you to come here on his behalf to convince me to sell him the rarest gem in the world for another woman? You truly do have your mother’s heart.” 
His words sprouted doubt and introspection. Why were you trying so hard to get Sylus such a romantic gift when it was meant for someone else? Were you secretly a masochist?
“If it’s alright with you Y/N, I’d love to get to know you. Your mother was my first love, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to about her.” 
You gave him the sincerest smile you could come up with. “I’d like that. I don’t really have anyone to talk to about her either.”
“As for the gem, I’ll sell it to you but only if you promise to love a man who will go to these lengths for you, not someone else.” 
“I promise.” You’d promise to try, at least. You told the man, who you now knew was Dr Jeffery Hunt the geologist, that you needed to get back to work. You exchanged contact information with a promise to catch up later and trade stories about your mom. 
You left the house with the rarest gem in the world in one hand, and an infinitely more valuable picture of your mother in the other. 
___________
You walked toward your office where Luke and Kieran should have been to find the door slightly ajar. You stopped just outside the door when you heard Sylus’s voice from inside your office.
“You sent Y/N to get the gem? Was the task too difficult for the two of you?” You tried to sympathise with the twins, but it was kind of funny to see Sylus berate someone else for once.
“The owner said he wouldn’t sell to Onychinus—” Kieran’s attempt at an explanation was shot down instantly.
“So you pick some random person off the street and send them in instead. You don’t send the girl the gem is for to go retrieve her own present. You have completely ruined the surprise.”
Wait, what?
“No, it’s fine, we sent Y/N not Miss Hunter.”
“Miss Hun— why would you assume it’s for her?” The question hung in there for an uncomfortable moment, after all you assumed the same thing. 
“Her birthday’s in a few days.” Luke timidly added. 
“How do you know that?” 
“It’s in the shared calendar.”
“Fuck.” 
With your ear plastered shamelessly against the door, you smiled to yourself. He had a bad habit of putting personal events in the shared calendar.
“The gem was for Y/N. Thanks to you imbeciles I have to figure something else out.” 
Why was the gem for you? Was it poisonous? You started down at the velvet box in your hand and wondered if the gem was secretly a teeny tiny bomb. 
“Is it Y/N’s birthday soon too?” Kieran’s question offended you. Your birthday was in March and both he and Luke were at your celebratory birthday dinner last year. 
“No, that’s in March. It’s to celebrate her 3rd year with Onychinus. Although now I’m wondering if your time here has come to an end.” It was kind of sadistic, but it was comforting to know that Sylus threatened other people’s job security over minor inconveniences too. 
“No! Please, we promise we’ll make it up to you.” 
You stopped listening to the conversation as you opened the box in your hand. The gem glistened under the artificial lights as questions fired off in your brain. He wanted to give this gem to you? How did he even remember the day you started at Onychinus? And he knew your birthday?
Before you could search for the answers, the sound of footsteps approaching the door made you panic. You tried fruitlessly to escape the long hallway but Sylus stormed out before you could.
“I um, got that gem for you.” You pretended you weren’t eavesdropping and held the gem out to him, but he pushed it back toward you. 
“Thanks. I was going to have it turned into a necklace, but since the cat’s out of the bag, you can decide what to do with it.” He clearly knew you’d heard everything and gave the twins a pointed glare as they scurried out of your office. 
“It’s really too much. Most employers get their employees a gift card or something.” You tried to hand it back again, but he was unrelenting. 
“I’m not most employers, and you definitely aren’t most employees.” The loaded compliment made you bite back a smile. 
“In that case, a necklace would be nice. I have a photo of my mom when she was my age, she wore a necklace with a similar looking gem. Do you think you could find someone who can copy the design? It would mean a lot. I’d pay for it, of course.” You kept the photo in your wallet now, it quickly became one of your favourites. When you passed the photo to him, he looked at it for far longer than necessary. 
“Consider it done, and your money’s no good with me. Save it for something else.” He paused for a moment, took a photo of the necklace on his phone and returned the photograph. “I see where you get your beauty from.” The comment was so nonchalant and inconsistent with Sylus’s usual dialogue that you were left speechless. Your heart battered against your ribcage as if it were trying to escape and mount itself onto him instead. Traitorous organ. 
You watched him turn around and walk toward his office. The sight of him walking away from you brought back memories of that day in the graveyard and what you’d said to Sylus before he left. 
“You can judge me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that when you die, no one will mourn you.”
The guilt was eating away at your conscience, and you knew you had to let him know that you didn’t mean what you said. Especially not now. 
“Sylus, wait.” He stopped just as his hand reached the doorknob of his office door and looked up at you expectantly.
You raked your mind for the right thing to say, and Sylus didn’t make a sound as you prolonged the silence. 
“If you died, I’d mourn you.” And you meant it. You maintained eye contact despite the urge to look away from his intense gaze in an attempt to convey your sincerity. 
He shook his head with a slight chuckle in response, and walked into his office wordlessly. 
You figured he hadn’t given what you said a second thought. It was foolish to think you could ever hurt the impenetrable Sylus’s feelings. You weren’t even sure he had feelings. 
But, unbeknownst to you, when Sylus closed the door behind him, he felt himself let out a breath that alleviated a pressure in his chest he didn’t know he’d been carrying. What you’d said to him in the graveyard weighed on him like an uncomfortable tumour. 
Sylus knew you were right, but the idea of no one caring for him never bothered him before, not until you said it. It dawned on him that the only person who’s idea of him actually affected how he thought of himself was yours. 
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Late-November
“Finish up, we have a reservation at six.” At the sound of your boss’s  voice, you looked up from your computer screen. Your eyes were watery from staring at the ledger for hours but you still couldn’t reconcile the $15.70 that was missing. It was driving you insane.
“Was there a meeting I forgot existed?” The calendar looked empty from where it stood on your second monitor. Well, it was empty now that Sylus deleted the shared calendar event for Miss Hunter’s birthday which should’ve been yesterday. 
“No, it’s just us. I’m taking you to dinner. Now hurry up.” You couldn’t help the frown on your face. There was surely an ulterior motive. 
“Taking me to dinner? Are you asking me out on a date?” You were teasing; hell would freeze over before Sylus would ask anyone out on a date. Though, maybe he already had, after all he was busy yesterday…
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re celebrating your third year with Onychinus. As an employer I believe rewarding long-term employees can strengthen their loyalty to the company.” He regurgitated the words like they were toxic. 
“You stole that from the last issue of Forbes magazine. I would know since I was the one who gave you the article.” It was titled ‘Ten foolproof ways to make your employees like you’ and you thought it would be funny to leave it on Sylus’s desk. 
“And I’m responding to your feedback like number 4 on that list suggested. Now, do you want to go to this dinner or should I ask someone else?” 
You quickly scrambled out of your seat, you couldn’t miss out on a chance to see Sylus actively try to be a regular boss. Who could say no to dinner and a show?
“No, no, I’ll go.” You grabbed your bag off of the floor and followed Sylus out of the building. You asked him a series of questions about where you were going, when you’d be back, if you were getting paid for the time you were forced to spend with him, but he answered none of them. 
Sylus was driving for all of 2 minutes before you began to draft an appreciation letter to the inventor of seatbelts in your head. 
“You know, you may be harder to kill than a regular person, but I will die if you crash this car.” Pleading for your life in an expensive sports car was not how you expected to go. 
“It’s a little early in the night for your theatrics, Y/N.” Sylus’s deadpan tone did nothing to soothe your concerns as he turned yet another sharp corner with aggressive speed. 
“It’s also a little early in my life to die.” You unhelpfully added.
“Relax, will you? I’ve never crashed before.” 
Well, there’s a first time for everything. You thought as you tightly gripped the handle of the door. You found yourself suddenly missing the middle-aged man who would grouchily drive you to and from work. At least he drove like he valued his life. 
 _______
When you arrived to the place in one piece you felt severely under dressed. Sylus was wearing his regular attire, a suit without the tie, and you were dressed in linen pants and a turtleneck. Sylus never enforced a business dress code, though in that moment you found yourself wishing he did.
The restaurant was multi-level and sat at the top of a mountain. The exterior screamed affluence and you were sure everyone who dined there was in a different tax-bracket. Sylus reserved a table on the rooftop which unfortunately meant you had to ascend four levels in your mediocre outfit that made you stick out like a sore thumb. 
When you eventually reached your table, you quickly hid in your seat. While it was unrealistic to assume anyone would pay you any attention but your embarrassment was usually irrational. Nor, did it help that Sylus naturally made heads turn wherever he went. He was freakishly tall and unnervingly handsome; next to him anyone struggled to look attractive.
“You’re in a rush. Hungry?” Sylus asked across from you as you buried your face in the menu. You didn’t feel like explaining how being out with him made you feel insecure, so you forewent a response. 
The waiter quickly returned with a bottle of wine. Of course Sylus’s favourite wine was known universally. Why wouldn’t it be? He practically ruled the N109 Zone.
“Thanks, she’ll have a mojito.” Before you could tell the waiter not to bring you your favourite cocktail, he was gone.
“I’m not drinking.” Your protest fell on deaf ears. “Drinking with your boss is like number 1 on the list of things you shouldn’t do if you value your job.”
“You don’t have to worry about embarrassing yourself in front of me, Y/N. You’ve done that plenty of times sober.” Sylus smirked as he made the dry joke and you held back the urge to step on his foot under the table.
Never mind. You needed a drink pronto.
“Asshole.” You muttered under your breath.
“What was that?”
“Artichokes! I said the artichoke salad looks good.” You could tell Sylus wasn’t convinced, but he dropped the matter anyway. 
“Order whatever you’d like.” 
“There’s no prices on the menu.” You flipped it around every which way but not a single price appeared.
“Sweetheart, the people who can afford to dine here aren’t too concerned with prices. Don’t worry and order what you wish.”
Aw, how sweet. Sylus thought you enquired about the prices because you were concerned about overspending. As if. You knew that man’s financials inside and out, if anything, you wanted to order the most expensive things on the menu. 
“Jeez, my bad Mr One-Percent.” Your joke was not well received.
“Can we have one night without your incessant sarcasm?” The plea sounded genuine, but it was denied. 
“We could, but that’s no fun.”
“I find you painfully unfunny, Y/N.” You smiled to yourself at his blatant lie. Everyone found you funny. 
Before you could think of a retort, Sylus pulled out a large velvet box and slid it toward you on the table.
“What’s this?”
“The necklace.”
You opened it up eagerly and the sight of it brought pure bliss to your heart. It was exactly like the one your mother wore, and it was even more beautiful in person.
“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Feeling slightly remorseful for your attitude prior to the gift-exchange, you gave him a sheepish smile.
Sylus watched you lift it up to put it on, but quickly interjected. “Allow me.” He stood up, walking toward your seat. Flushed, you clumsily turned around so your back was facing him. You felt goosebumps on your skin when his cold hands bunched your hair away from your neck, the tips of his fingers leaving a trail of wired nerves in their wake.
You took your hair from his hand to hold it up, the mere feeling of your fingers brushing his gave you heart palpitations. The act was way too intimate, and despite how it good it felt to have him so close, your brain knew it was safest to pray it would be over soon.
When Sylus was done he spun you around to face him and shamelessly observed his handiwork. “It looks good.” Your brain short-circuited the moment your eyes met his, so you sat in front of him in complete silence.
The moment was rudely interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.
“Sylus? Y/N? Fancy seeing you here!” You both turned to the source of the voice to see Miss Hunter in a beautiful baby blue gown. As if you didn’t feel bad enough about your choice in attire. You began to smile until you noticed that the arm linked with hers belonged to your mortal enemy. Dr Zayne. 
You got up to greet them, despite your primal urge to push Zayne off the roof, but Sylus beat you to it. “Miss Hunter, always a pleasure.” You tried not to gag at the sight of Sylus being so gentlemanly. It became particularly hard when he kissed the top of her hand. 
“I didn’t know you knew Dr Zayne.” The comment slipped out of Sylus’s tense smile with a twinge of what you thought was hostility. Was he jealous that she was with Dr Zayne? Were you jealous that he was jealous? Are you in a soap opera?
“Oh, he’s a childhood friend andmy doctor! I’m very lucky. How do you know him?” Before you could whisper to Sylus to make up some excuse, he was firing off information about your personal life to the last two people you wanted to discuss your personal life with. 
“He was Y/N’s mother’s doctor.” Everyone went tense, everyone except for Miss Hunter, of course. 
Your eyes followed her as she turned to you, praying she wouldn’t ask about your mother’s health. Instead, she praised your nemesis. “He’s brilliant, isn’t he?”
You wanted to scream in protest. You wanted to swing a chair into Dr Zayne’s head, and then use the broken scraps to beat him to a pulp. But you opted to force a painful smile instead. 
“He’s definitely something.” You looked right at Zayne, hoping he’d understand the implications of your backhanded compliment.  
“Well, we were just here to celebrate my birthday yesterday, but the hostess said it was all booked out and silly Zayne forgot to make a reservation. We just came up to the rooftop to get some pictures, but you guys should enjoy your dinner!” Miss Hunter’s polite dismissal was the perfect opportunity to end the painfully awkward interaction and move on with your night. 
“Thanks.” You were about to return to your seat when Sylus decided to continue with his commitment to ruining your life.
“You guys should join us, the more the merrier, right Y/N?”
The question you had no idea how to answer only poked at the jar of pent up murderous rage you were trying to suppress. It wasn’t like you were subtle about your hatred for the Doctor, why the hell was Sylus inviting them to stay?
“Right.” You couldn’t have sounded less sincere if you tried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had to focus on making it out of this building without a homicide charge.
When Miss Hunter happily agreed, Sylus quickly waved down a waiter and made them transform your two-seater table into a four-seater. Unfortunately for you, the seating arrangements somehow ended up with you next to Zayne and Sylus next to Miss Hunter . 
Zayne could feel the hostility radiating off of you in waves, but he was too scared to do anything about it. 
“Happy birthday, by the way.” You offered Miss Hunter the nicety, since she was really the only innocent person at the table. Your unfounded hatred for her took the back-burner when Zayne was around. 
“Thanks, Y/N. I love your necklace, where did you get it?” Yet another question you didn’t know how to answer. If this was how the entire night was going to be you might as well cut your losses and take your chances with jumping off the roof.
“It’s um, custom made.” You avoided Sylus’s glare. 
“Well it’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help but smile at her compliment. Her sunshine-y attitude could rival yours. 
“Sylus knows the guy who made it, I’m sure he could get one for you too.” You glanced at him only to see him quirk an eyebrow at your response. Was he seriously mad? You were practically the world’s greatest wingwoman. 
When Miss Hunter turned to look at him, he quickly shut her down.  “He retired right after making that piece, actually. Something about getting arthritis.” 
He was definitely lying. You weren’t sure why he was gatekeeping this jeweller and you never got the chance to ask. 
“Oh, that’s unfortunate. Hey Zayne, you’ve been awfully quiet. Say something!” Miss Hunter gave him a playful push on the shoulder as she teased him. The sight would’ve been adorable if it weren’t for satan’s incarnate sitting inches away from you.
“Yeah Zayne, how was work? Steal anymore hearts lately?” You asked the deceivingly innocuous question while breaking apart a piece of bread. The double-entendre was like a secret you both shared; though the idea of sharing anything with that waste of space made you inscrutably angry. 
Sylus silently observed the interaction with curiosity. Your passive-aggressiveness was a trait he thought you only reserved for him. You were always nice, to everyone. Seeing you treat Zayne so coldly was like witnessing a beaver play the piano. It was unnatural. 
“Work went as well as expected.” Zayne’s clipped reply left no room for further discussion. The conversation came to do a lull, and you took it as the opportunity to excuse yourself to the bathroom. You immediately beelined away from the table that currently situated your nightmare blunt rotation and toward the women’s bathroom that was positively Zayne-free. 
The bathroom was just as extravagant as the rest of the restaurant but you didn’t get to admire it before you splashed water on your face in an attempt to cool down. There was no way you could last an entire dinner next to Zayne. Maybe you could say you were feeling sick. Probably a bad idea when he’s a doctor. Work emergency wasn’t plausible, your boss was at the table. What if you just ran away? You could live with the shame and embarrassment.
You looked up at the ceiling and silently cursed the heavens for your terrible luck. Seriously, you must’ve been a serial killer in your past life to deserve this fate. It was a never-ending series of unfortunate events, and you were desperate for a break. 
When you eventually left the bathroom, Zayne was standing right outside the door. He startled you, but the moment the shock wore off your face morphed into a deadly glare. 
“Look, I know you think I’m a terrible person but—”
“Monster is the term I’d use, but go on.” You rudely interrupted Zayne. He chose not to acknowledge your comment. 
“I rarely get to spend time with MC and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t ruin her birthday dinner because of me.” It didn’t take long for you to realise that MC must’ve been Miss Hunter’s first name. 
Zayne ruined everything he touched, he needed no help from you. 
“I’m sorry, does the fact that I’m angry at you for letting my mother die put a damper in your dinner plans?”
“Yes it does, actually.” Zayne responded quickly. He either didn’t understand sarcasm or was an even bigger dick than you thought.
“Then might I suggest you take her someplace else. It’s your fault you couldn’t get a table here. Why should I have to suffer because your incompetence knows no bounds?” You couldn’t think of a time you’d insulted someone so much in such quick succession. Dr Zayne brought out the worst in you, but you could reflect on your actions later. Right now you were at war. 
“We are perfectly capable of having an amicable dinner.” 
You rolled your eyes at his condescending tone. “You might be, I’m not that mature.” 
“Y/N. We’re both adults.” He pleaded.
“Bite me.” 
Before Zayne could open his mouth again, Sylus interrupted.
“Everything all good here?” For once in your life, you were grateful for Sylus’s interruption. 
“No.” You said.
“Yes.” Zayne also said, at the exact same time.
“Zayne you should head back to the table. Miss Hunter's waiting for you.” Zayne didn’t think twice before taking the out and you internally flipped off his retreating form.
Sylus grabbed you by the forearm, his grip tight as he dragged you to a secluded part of the rooftop and away from the bathrooms. 
“What’s going on with you?” He asked the moment you stopped moving, his hand still gripping onto your arm like a vice. 
“Can you let go? You’re hurting me.” He quickly released you, his eyes washing over with something you couldn’t recognise as you soothed the part he’d rubbed raw. 
“Why are you acting so childish?” His question would've angered you had you not been angry already.
“I hate his guts.” The response did not help your case, but you weren’t very articulate when you were upset. 
“What did he do to you?” Sylus’s eyes narrowed, and he spoke in a low tone that was laced with danger. You didn’t think too much of his strange reaction, Sylus acting strange was pretty much the only consistent thing in your life lately. 
You gnawed on your lip, unsure of how to respond. Your grievance against the world-renowned doctor was one you’d always kept to yourself. After all, everyone had nothing but praise for the brilliant Dr Zayne. 
“Y/N, if he touched you I’ll—” Your eyes quickly widened in shock at his interpretation.
“No! Nothing like that. It’s just, a few days before my mom died, a heart came in that was a match. But there was this other guy who was younger and needed it just as badly. The policy was that the hospital's medical board would vote on who got the heart and the entire board, Zayne included, unanimously agreed that the heart should go to the other guy.” They said it wasn't personal, that it had everything to do with survival rates, but there was no way to detach personhood from medicine.
You realised that when you said it out loud, your hate seemed unfounded. “I know it wasn’t entirely his fault, but he didn’t even try to give my mom a fighting chance. He didn't say anything to sway them, he just silently agreed. He was supposed to be her advocate.” The frustration began to boil over, and before you knew it there were tears welling up in your eyes.
“God, I spent every last dollar of my paycheque to make sure she got the greatest medical care money could buy. Everyone said he was the best, but when it really mattered, he did nothing for her. I was such an idiot.” There was an uncontrollable fountain of tears streaming down your face, and you were grateful for Sylus’s decision to drag you to somewhere secluded. 
The familiar tendrils of an oncoming panic attack began to wash over you as you began to hyperventilate. No matter how much you wanted to blame Dr Zayne, or the universe, or your shitty luck, the only person you could really blame was yourself. You sent her to that hospital, you convinced her to hold on for a transplant, you spent her last months on this Earth slaving away in another city instead of by her side. There was no way to get that time back. 
“Y/N, look at me. It’s not your fault.” Sylus’s voice was like a beacon of light that led you through the dark tunnel you were trapped in. He cradled your face in his hands, wiping away your tears as they continued to stream down your face. But when your tears showed no signs of slowing, he pulled you into his arms, his hands holding your tear-stricken face against his chest.
He ran his long fingers through your hair as he whispered everything you wanted to hear. "It’s not your fault. It’s okay to hate him. It will get easier."
You weren’t sure how long you spent with your face buried in his chest, but by the time you’d returned to reality, his white dress shirt was slightly transparent where your tears soaked through the material. 
You laughed a little at the sight, and the corners of Sylus’s lips raised ever so slightly at the sound. When he saw you were okay, Sylus began to speak. “Don’t move. I’ll grab your bag and we’ll get out of here.”
Before he could leave you tugged on the sleeve of his suit jacket. “Hey, I’m sorry I ruined your dinner.” You truly were. Sylus did not deserve to be subjected to yet another one of your meltdowns, but he seemed to have a habit of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. 
“No it's my fault, I ruined it by inviting them to join us. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Sylus then manoeuvred through the restaurant toward the nightmare table. When he returned with your bag in one hand and the other outstretched toward you, your heart skipped a beat. Or two. He played the role of the knight-in-shining-armour quite seamlessly, and he looked every bit the handsome prince charming. You tried to remind yourself why it was so dangerous to be attracted to a force like Sylus, but when he smiled at you like you were the only two people in the room, all caution was thrown to the wind. 
_____________
In the spirit of making things up to you, you made Sylus take you to a restaurant of your choosing. It was a hole-in-the-wall dumpling place that charged so little one would question if they were serving real meat. But you never found better dumplings, so you took the risk anyway.
The dynamic was completely subverted as you sat on the table that was slightly sticky with cheap cleaning chemicals. Sylus was the one who looked out of place, his suit was unarguably the most expensive thing in the room and it brought joy to your miserable night to see him out of his comfort zone.
“How did you find this place?” The question was warranted, other than you two, the only other occupants in the restaurant were a few middle-schoolers.  
“I used to come here a lot with my friends in high school.”
“Did they all die from food poisoning?” Sylus seemed proud of his quick-witted joke. You gave him a pointed glare to convey just how unfunny that joke was. 
“Funny, but no. We just drifted apart after we graduated.” The clipped reply shut down any further inquiry. You thought back to the fond memories you had in that restaurant. Things were different when you didn’t yet know the cost of failure; before you knew what you’d be losing. And while everyone may have moved on from this small town in the N109 Zone, you never left. 
“Do you even have any friends?” You choked on your drink at the question. He was genuinely asking and the worst part was, you really didn’t.
Your constant struggle to make ends meet and maintain a high GPA for your academic scholarships made it impossible to have a social life. It didn’t help that you went to a college you couldn’t afford. It was hard to find people to relate to when everyone had grown up with silver spoons. Then after you graduated you landed at Onychinus, and it wasn’t exactly a friendly environment.
“Of course I have friends.” Your lie was a feeble attempt to preserve the last of your dignity. Sylus had seen you at your absolute worst, but there was something extremely dehumanising about letting him know you were insanely lonely.
“Really, who?” His genuine surprise only made your insecurity worse.
“You don’t have to sound so shocked. Plus, you wouldn’t know them.” 
“Try me.” Of course he wouldn’t drop it. When has Sylus ever let something go?
“Well, there’s Mr Demir, and Luke and Kieran, and my newly acquired friend Dr Hunt.” In a desperate attempt to keep up your lie, you pretty much just named all the people you knew. 
“Y/N, that’s the man who sells you your sandwiches, my assistants, and a geologist who sold you a gem.” 
“Has anyone ever told you that no one likes a know-it-all?” 
“I think you should get out more. Maybe tone down the sarcasm and you might just make a friend or two.” Your jaw-dropped in faux shock at his unsolicited advice.
“You’re one to talk, your best friend is a mechanical crow.” You snuck a dumpling off of his plate while he was distracted.
“I don’t need friends, they’re unnecessary burdens.” He took a swig of his beer. You thought he’d burst into flames if he drank anything other than red wine, but he adapted to his surroundings with little effort.
You put a hand on your heart as if in pain and jokingly gave him a solemn look.“Then why would you wish such a cruel fate onto me?”
“Because I hate seeing you this miserable, Y/N.” The amusement from your banter died a quick death at his confession. You thought you kept it together most of the time, though bawling your eyes out in the N109 Zone’s hottest restaurant probably didn’t do that facade any good. But for the most part, you handled the death of your mother relatively well. 
“I’m not miserable. Not all of the time at least. Like right now, I’m only mildly annoyed!” You tried to change the topic the only way you knew how, with humour, but Sylus wasn’t budging.
“You take care of everyone but yourself and all it’s done is isolate you. There needs to be a give and take, sweetheart. People don’t like feeling useless.” He spoke to you softly, as if he was scared the timbre of his voice would cause you to shatter into a million pieces. 
There was a sinking feeling in your stomach that followed his oddly specific guidance. He seemed to know more about you than you thought he did, and you were torn between feeling seen and feeling judged. 
“That’s sound advice. Guess you’ve been reading more magazines.” You were grasping at straws, willing to try anything to get the unwanted spotlight off of your inadequacies. 
“You also need to learn how to accept help without downplaying your problems.” 
“Okay, okay. You sound like my mother. Has her soul possessed you?” There you go Y/N. Play the dead mom card, that’ll work. 
He chuckled at your joke. You knew he found you funny.
“You don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Yeah, the manufacturers didn’t include an off-switch. No refunds, sorry.” You stuffed a dumpling in your mouth as the tension subsided. 
“Oh, I’m not returning you, sweetheart. They’ll have to pry you from my cold dead hands.” While you knew he was probably referring to the value you brought his company as his accountant, you couldn’t stifle the butterflies that wreaked havoc in your stomach.
You didn’t move when Sylus’s car stopped outside your house. 
“Thanks for tonight, I had fun. Sorry it didn’t go to plan.” You turned to him after you unbuckled your seatbelt and the tight confines of the car felt even smaller.
“It’s fine, I liked this version of events better anyway.” His low voice reverberated through the small distance between you, nestling in your heart that was beating unhealthily fast. 
“Me too. Next time you take a girl to dinner you ought to let her know if she’s supposed to dress like she’s going to the met gala.” Your advice had a bitter undertone because part of you still wished you could be the only girl he’d take to dinner. 
“I usually do, but this particular girl doesn’t need a fancy dress to be the most beautiful girl in the room.” The candid compliment made the butterflies do summersaults, and while their gymnastics routine continued, you found yourself at a loss for words.
“Goodnight, Y/N.” Sylus leaned over the centre console and opened the door for you, completing the chivalrous act of opening the door for you in his own unique fashion. He was so close, all it would take was one small move and his lips could’ve been on yours.
“Goodnight.” You barely got the word out through the sudden bout of breathlessness you were experiencing. And when you were finally encased in the familiar four walls of your home, you thought about every moment you shared with Sylus and how different he seemed from the man you knew before. 
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The weekend passed by in a blur. The necklace that looked like a carbon copy of your mom’s was nestled on your neck. A permanent reminder that made ‘Operation Sylus: No More’ infinitely harder to achieve. 
Perhaps you shouldn’t have asked him to stop being a dick, because what you thought would be an easy feat was beginning to feel like climbing a mountain with a peak you couldn’t even see. 
You were staring at the list on your notes app on your brand new phone in hopes of searing it into your memory. 
Operation Sylus: No More
The foolproof guide of getting rid of all feelings Sylus related by the end of November. 
Step 1: avoid Sylus and all thoughts of him at all costs.
Step 2: no more funny jokes, his laugh is seriously deadly. 
Step 3: force yourself to remember Miss Hunter in moments of weakness. She’s the one he really wants. 
Step 4: try to find love elsewhere, like the corner shop owner, he may be in his 50s and happily married but he’s kind of a silver-fox!
Step 5: do not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to be alone with Sylus for too long.
You violated step 5 that Friday when you let him take you to dinner and you were reaping the consequences of your mistake. There was no way you could survive the free-fall if you couldn't get your heart to obey your mind. The disconnect between the two vital organs might be the thing that kills you.
When you heard something shatter in the hallway, you quickly put your phone down and went out to investigate.
The door opened to Mephisto standing on a side table where an empty vase used to sit. The vase was now on the floor in pieces in front of your feet. 
“You did this on purpose.” You pointed an accusing finger at the bird, but all he did was tilt his head to the side as if he couldn’t understand you. You knew he could understand you perfectly well.
The cold war between you two started in your first week at Onychinus when he would swoop at your head spontaneously for no reason. Sylus told you he did it to everyone he didn’t trust and that he’d be over it in due time, but you were too vindictive to let it slide. 
Several back-and-forth pranks later, the bird seemed to have remembered the tradition you managed to forget. “If this is your way of saying you miss me then you take an awful lot after your owner.” Your words faded as you made your way to the kitchen to find the broom. However, upon your return you saw that the floor was flawless and the door to your office was closed.
You rushed in with unparalleled speed to see your worst nightmare; Sylus leaning against your desk in his usual model-like fashion with your phone in his hand.
Panic coursed through you like never before as you remembered what had been left open on your phone when you set it down and the painful fact that you left it unlocked. 
Prayers for a sinkhole to open up and consume you in that very moment went unanswered as Sylus looked up at you with a smirk on his face.
“Is my laugh really deadly?” He looked amused. 
Come on sinkhole. Anytime now. 
When you didn’t answer, Sylus moved toward you. When he was close enough to touch you, he leaned down to make sure your eyes were on his.
“Your deadline is fast approaching, Y/N. Care for a progress report?” The taunting question made heat rush to your face.
“It was stupid, I wrote it months ago.”
“Then why did you have it open?” 
You couldn’t exactly tell him that his willingness to change his cold and cruel demeanour just to keep you as his accountant revived the feelings you thought were long dead. You definitely couldn’t tell him that the necklace that suddenly weighed down your chest made your heart skip a beat every time you touched it. And there was no way you were telling him that the dinner you shared was the happiest you’d felt in a long time.
“I was going to delete it when I heard Mephisto break something in the hallway.”
“Delete it? Guess you don’t need it anymore.”
“Nope.” You popped the P on the word for emphasis. “Can I have my phone back now?” He placed the device into your outstretched hand. 
“So how do you feel about me now, sweetheart?”
You tried your best to appear unperturbed by his taunting. “Mad at your blatant violation of my privacy.”
“Forgive me. I saw my name on your phone when I went to check in on you and I was curious.”
“Mephisto told you I broke the vase, didn’t he?”
“Don’t deflect. Do you still have feelings for me?��
“No, they’re gone. Can we please drop this? It’s embarrassing.” You lied in favour of self-preservation and hoped he wouldn’t be able to see through your act.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Y/N. Many women confess their love for me every month.” You rolled your eyes at his ardent display of over-confidence and narcissism, though you knew he wasn’t exaggerating.  
“Okay, brace yourself there bachelor. No one said anything about love.” It was true, you never said you loved him. Whether or not you did, well that was a secret you’d take to the grave. 
“So then which feeling are we discussing?” The loaded question came out of his mouth so casually, like someone ordering a latte. A display of power that reminded you of just how little this mattered to him. 
Your feet felt like they were grounded in their place by an invisible force and you were sure your cheeks were beet red. You knew your mouth was slightly agape in shock, but you couldn’t even close it. Meanwhile, Sylus was unfazed, treating your feelings like a game. 
“Since when do you even care about how I feel?” The sudden outburst was accompanied by your hand running through your hair out of frustration.
Sylus’s jaw clenched and for a moment he said nothing. There was no hint of amusement left on his features. 
“You think I don’t care about you?” He seemed irritated by the premise, but you couldn’t figure out why. You thought Sylus was proud of his clear disregard for other people’s emotions. 
“You treated me like gum stuck to the bottom of your boot for years. What reason did you give me to think otherwise?”
“I don’t know, maybe the fact that I pay you more than my highest ranking footmen. Or that I had Mephisto tail you when you used to bike to and from work to make sure you got home safe. Hell, I invented the lunch budget when I hired you just to make sure you were eating— I even banned mushrooms from my kitchen in case you wanted to eat here. Not to mention the bullshit extra work I’d assign you just so you would stay longer.” 
Choosing not to dwell on the implication of his silent acts of kindness, you interjected. “Hey, I took those tasks seriously!” The twins thought you were crazy when you asked if Sylus was making those assignments up. You knew you were right. 
“Don’t interrupt me.” Your mouth clamped shut at his rather reasonable request. Sylus wasn’t a big talker, so when he monologued, it was important. 
“Your kindness, your humour, it all caught me off guard. No one ever treated me like you did and I had no idea how to feel. The little doodles you sent back to me on the notes I left you delineating tasks? I kept every last one. When Mephisto complained to me about that time you put corn-starch in his water fountain and almost destroyed his wiring, all I could do was laugh. I treated you like I treated all my men because I didn’t want people to find out that you were my weakness.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, but the pressure wasn’t budging. There was so much you didn’t know about Sylus, so much you completely misunderstood. This revelation caused a series of chain reactions to go off inside your brain and the weight of what he was trying to say felt suffocating.
You dreamed of a time where Sylus would reciprocate your feelings, but the reality of it was more daunting than you realised.
“All my threats are empty with you, Y/N. You’re the only one who gets away with the attitude you give me. You tell me you crashed a car worth over half-a-million dollars and all I could think about was if you were okay. I even offered to buy your house for way more than it was worth just to get you back. Do you seriously think I don’t care?” 
All sound came to a stifling halt. 
“Wait, you were the ‘developer’?”
The inklings of betrayal wove their way through your skin as the pieces began to fall into place. The timing of the eviction notice, the fact that he’d shown up at your house the day you received it, the way he was so quick to agree to the ridiculous bonus. 
He manipulated you like a puppet on a string and let you think you were in control the entire time.
“Don’t look at me like I’m some traitor.” His audacious demand made your blood boil.
“You are a traitor! How could you do that to me?” You yelled.
“You were going to leave me like I was nothing!” For the first time since you’d met him, Sylus raised his voice to match yours. Your entire body went cold at his vulnerability. He was afraid of being abandoned, and that was a fear you both shared.
“Not seeing you every day made my heart feel like it was being ripped out of my chest. I could barely focus, all I could think about was what you were doing, who you were with. So imagine my surprise when I come to find that while I’m being tortured every minute I’m away from you, you needed more time.
“I knew I was being selfish, I knew that your grief had nothing to do with me, but I’ve never been good at putting my feelings into words. That day in the graveyard when you wouldn’t even look at me, I thought I’d lost you for good. It ate at me like a parasite. I had to get you back and I won’t apologise for not playing fair. There isn’t a rule I wouldn’t break for you, Y/N.”  
It was hard to hate him for what he did when you understood where he was coming from. You were two sides of the same coin. While you overcompensated for the lack of love in your life by becoming the ultimate people-pleaser, he avoided it at every turn, saw it as a weakness. But at the core of every human being was an innate desire to be loved and an inherent fear of being abandoned. 
People couldn’t leave your life if you never let them in. That was a philosophy you saw both your mother and Sylus live by. It was lonely and difficult, and if you had the power of hindsight you would’ve tried harder to convince your mother she was worthy of love. You couldn’t make that same mistake again. 
You loved Sylus, that much was ingrained into the flesh of your heart. For all his rugged edges, he had a way of making things happen that was akin to magic. His determination, his grit, it was admirable.
His intelligence was infuriating, you couldn’t get anything past him. If he received the Greeks’ horse instead of the Trojans, you were sure he’d have seen right through their ruse. 
His desire to make the N109 Zone a better place stemmed from a sense of altruism you could only hope to possess. And when Sylus did things for others, he never expected anything in return. 
But for all his greatest traits he had some difficult ones too. He’d hurt you more times than you could count, and even if he’d changed drastically since your mother’s death, you couldn’t quite trust that he wouldn’t hurt you again.
“You already know how I feel about you.” You confessed. It was no secret you wore your heart on your sleeve, despite your mother’s constant reminders that the world was filled with terrible people who’d take advantage of your candour. You chose to see the good in others, it boded better than the grim lifestyle that came with perpetual pessimism. 
“Then why are you fighting this?” His question came out pained, and it was one you could answer. 
“I’ve loved you for a long time, Sylus. I loved you even though you insulted me, ignored me, reminded me I was replaceable every chance you got.
“I told myself it was just how you were, that it wasn’t personal. But when you walked out on me in the hospital when I needed you the most, I loved you a little less.”
Sylus felt an unfamiliar twinge in his chest, like someone took a needle to his heart. He left that hospital because he wasn’t sure you’d even want him there, and it pained him to see you so distraught over a problem he couldn’t fix. When MC came to him with an important mission in Skyhaven, he saw an out, and like the coward he was he took it. If he knew that you’d lose your mother while he was away, he never would have left your side. 
“When you didn’t call until weeks later, when you showed up only to tell me I was being dramatic for grieving, I loved you even less. Every time you screwed me over you made it easier to live without you.”
It hurt to remember the pain you were in back then, the immense pressure of the burdens you carried. But if there was ever a chance of you and Sylus working out, he needed to know the truth. 
“I’ve only ever loved two people, Sylus, and in one month it felt like I’d lost them both. I still love you, I’m afraid I couldn’t stop if I tried, but I don’t know if I can be more than your accountant right now.” You couldn’t survive another heartbreak, that much was for sure. 
Even though Sylus looked like he was going to be sick, you continued. 
“I thought I was okay with you treating me like everybody else, thought I was strong enough to take it. But when I saw you with Miss Hunter and the softness with which you spoke to her, it broke me. I saw that you were capable of being gentle. You just didn’t think I was a worthy recipient of your kindness.”
He was quick to correct you. “That’s not true, sweetheart. Not at all. She has something I need, something I can’t take with force. It’s why I’ve had to adopt unusual methods. If I’d known it was causing you so much pain I would’ve explained. Fuck, Y/N, you deserve so much more than just my kindness, more than I could ever give you. I can’t even think of a person on Earth who deserves you at all.” 
When Sylus saw the tears begin to slide down your cheeks, he resisted the urge to wipe them away.
“I’ll give you anything you ask for, anything but letting you go. There’s nothing so broken it can’t be fixed, Y/N. You taught me that. Let me fix this.” He tested the waters by taking your hand in his and when you let him, he pulled you into his arms. 
For a moment, the room was silent. You listened to his heartbeat through his chest and it might have been even faster than yours. It felt like deja vu, reminding you of that moment in the restaurant, or that time in his hallway after Zayne’s phone call. Sylus was there to comfort you more often than not, why were you so scared of letting him in?
“I want to believe you, I just don’t know that I can.” Your voice was small, timid. As if you were afraid something you’d say would shatter the sanctity of this moment and you’d find out it was all a dream. 
“I won’t stop trying until you do, sweetheart. You’re it for me, there’s no one else.” He kissed the top of your head with a softness you didn’t know he possessed and the words were like bandages wrapping around the wounds inflicted by your own envy.
In the comfortable silence, Sylus made a vow. “I don’t have regrets — you know that quite well — but I regret the way I treated you. I’ll spend every lifetime repenting for my mistakes, Y/N, and I promise I’ll never let anything hurt you again.” He squeezed you tighter and the comfort his warmth brought you was a welcome change to the cold you lived in all the time. 
Desperate to diffuse the overwhelming angst of the situation, you pulled away from his embrace and clapped your hands together. “Okay then, as of today we commence ‘Operation Sylus: The Redemption'.”
His loud laugh resounded through your office, and it was a sound you’d never get tired of hearing. He grabbed your chin. “Have you always been this corny?” 
“I watch a lot of movies, okay? Now, shake on it.” You shook his hand off your face and held out your hand with an invitation that he instantly accepted. With his warm hand encasing yours, you whole-heartedly hoped this operation would be a success. 
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Late December
You assumed the dynamic between you and Sylus would drastically change following your impromptu heart-to-heart. But the changes came in small waves. 
It started with the middle-aged man who silently drove you to and from work with a permanent scowl on his face being replaced by Sylus himself.
Then there was the sticky notes he’d usually place on documents explaining the task and deadline, now with an added addendum.
— That necklace was the best decision I’ve ever made.
— Your hair looks especially nice today.
— Did you switch perfumes? I like it.
— That new lipstick suits you. Your lips are all I can think about. 
You saved all of them in a drawer at your desk. 
He had someone bring you your lunch every day and spent your entire lunch break with you. Somedays you talked until your tongue felt like it was going to fall off, other days you just sat and ate together in silence. And every Friday afternoon, instead of taking you straight home, he’d take you to visit your mother’s grave with a new bouquet in his hands. 
You were glad he was taking things slow. His small gestures made your heart flutter without overwhelming you, but it had been a month since your confrontation, and he didn’t even try to touch you. 
While your inexperience with love, lust and romance never impacted any significant aspect of your life before, it was growing increasingly difficult to wait for Sylus to make the first move. He didn’t want to scare you, that much was understandable. But you were growing angsty waiting for him the tension between you two hit a boiling point.
The glorious plan came to you while you were shopping with Luke and Kieran for Onychinus’s annual Christmas gala. It was a networking event masked under the guise of a holiday celebration where the people hiding in the shadows of the underworld could spend one night communicating on the surface.
Every year, Sylus insisted he couldn’t outsource waiters for the event because of potential security leaks, so you, the twins and a couple other of his staff were forced to fill in as the help. Sylus told you that you wouldn’t have to participate this year, but you began to look forward to the event. It was like an unorthodox Christmas tradition.
Your eyes drifted to the costume section of the party store, and when they landed on a short red Santa’s helper dress, you felt a lightbulb turn on in your head. Maybe you had to give Sylus a little nudge.
“Hey, aren't you guys kind of bored of the slacks and the dress shirts he makes us wear?” You sowed the seed of doubt into your unwilling accomplices.
“Duh. I hate dressing like a butler.” Luke’s eyes continued to scan the aisle for decorations. The hall was professionally decorated, but you added your own little details every year. It made things less drab and it gave the twins an excuse to spend hours in the party supply store. 
“What if we went with Christmas themed costumes this year?” The twins turned to look at you with confusion, but they quickly warmed up to the idea when you pointed at the wall of seasonal costumes.
“I’m Rudolph!” They made their declarations in unison before breaking out into an argument in the middle of the party store.
“Just flip a coin!” You desperately suggested, taking a coin out of your wallet and placing it on your thumb, ready to flip. People were beginning to stare.
“I’m heads!” They said in unison, again.
“Kieran you’re heads, Luke you’re tails.” You assigned them the parts of the coin alphabetically and watched it flip through the air. When it landed in your hands, it displayed tails. You silently hoped they would move on from this unnecessary battle and restore peace to your shopping trip again.
“Sorry Kieran, Luke’s Rudolph.” Kieran complained for the rest of the day about how annoying being an elf was, and how, since he was an inch taller than Luke, it only made sense for Luke to be the elf instead. 
They argued like the siblings you never had, and for all the pain and suffering they caused you, there was no denying you loved having them around. Besides, working for Sylus left the three of you trauma-bonded for life. There wasn’t really an out from this unconventional friendship. 
_________________
You failed to remember to clear the costume idea with Sylus before the gala. He was just so busy trying to organise the event, and you were similarly swamped with ensuring all the invoices were sent out on time to the right vendors. You barely saw each other in the days leading up to the big event.
The dress was shorter on you than you anticipated. Coming up just above mid-thigh, it was nothing like anything you owned in your closet. The little hat it came with was cute though and you pinned it to your hair. The make-up you wore was the same as your everyday makeup, barring the eyeliner you’d spent way too long trying to perfect and your lipstick. 
Other than the dress, you really did look the same as you did most of the time. Would Sylus even notice?
Right on cue, a knock on your door snapped you out of your train of thought, and you took a deep breath before opening it. 
As you expected, Sylus looked unfazed by your choice in attire as you moved out of the doorway to let him in.
“I see we’ve foregone the uniforms this year.” His comment was a welcome distraction from your insecurities.
“Whimsy is part of the Christmas spirit, you know.”
“It’s cute. Did you get that dress from the children’s section?”
The question came so out of left-field it left you were stunned. Once the shock settled in, you suddenly felt self-conscious.
“No… Why? Does it look childish?” You couldn’t help the vulnerability in your voice. 
Sylus closed the distance between you in a few long strides, his hands were on you in an instant. His palm was holding onto your waist the other tracing alone the edge of your dress. 
“Quite the opposite, I’m just wondering why they’d make a dress so short for adult women.” 
“Adult women can dress however they want, Sylus.” You chided.
“I know, but I’ll have my hands full if I’m trying to host this event and take care of the hoards of men that will be chasing after my girl at the same time.” He whispered the words seductively into your ear, the hand on your thigh slipping ever-so-slightly under the dress.
You ignored the warm, fuzzy feeling that bloomed through you at the sound of Sylus calling you his girl.
“There won’t be ‘hoards of men’. This will be the third time I’m working your annual gala and I’ve only ever gotten hit on like four times.” You knew from the way his eyebrows furrowed that you shouldn’t have told him that.
“Four times? Men hit on you four times while I was in the room and you didn’t tell me?” He was clearly angry, his rage unwarranted since it happened right under his nose. 
“I didn’t think you’d care. Most of them were like fifty, anyway!” That was true, and every time one of them placed a hand on your shoulder or your forearm, it made you grimace. 
“If men approached you in long pants and a dress shirt with a plate of refreshments in your hand what do you think they’ll do when they see you in this get up?” He walked you back until you were standing against the wall.
He had a point. Maybe it was too suggestive.
“I can change—”
“No. You never have to do that with me, baby. Just stay where I can see you, alright?” 
“Okay.” You felt a blush paint your cheeks. The tension was bubbling up between you. His hand was searing into your waist, his other one moving dangerously high on your thigh. You really thought this would be the moment he kissed you. But then the warmth of his hands was abruptly gone. 
“Okay. You ready to go?” He held the door open for you. That was it? Frustrated at your lack of results, you silently walked out of your house.
__________________
“Did you see Sylus’s date?”
“Of course, she’s definitely the hottest girl here.”
“I bet she’s had work done.”
“If so, I need the name of her surgeon.”
You eavesdropped on the hushed whispers of a group of women who were gossiping in a corner near the kitchen. The second you walked through the doors of the extravagant event hall, you both went your separate ways and you hadn’t seen him since. So much for not letting you out of his sight. 
All you heard about the entire night was his mysterious date and her envious beauty. He never told you he was bringing one, nor did he ever ask you to fill the spot. But before you could completely spiral, you reminded yourself of Sylus’s promise. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation. 
“Now what’s a pretty girl like you doing working here?” Your train of thought was interrupted by the voice of a man. You turned around, expecting to see one of the many sleazy old men who frequented these events and saw you as an easy target, but all you saw was a young, attractive guy in a three-piece suit. Huh.
“Hors d’oeuvre?” You offered the plate to him in place of a response. 
“No thanks. I’ve had my fill, though I must say, the other servers aren’t quite as easy on the eyes as you.” His eyes shamelessly scanned every inch of you, head-to-toe, and you felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his gaze. 
“Oh, um thanks.” The blush on your cheeks was an unwanted biological reaction, you weren’t used to attention from men within your age range. It wasn't like you thought you were ugly, you were just a bit of a hermit.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” You were about to answer his question when someone did it for you.
“Y/N.” The voice belonged to the man of the hour who seemed to have appeared out of thin air. 
“Sylus, hello. Hors d’oeuvre?” Clearly you were running out of things to say if your default reaction was to offer everyone a snack, but it was hard to find the voice to speak when you saw the girl who had her arms wrapped around his. 
Miss Hunter. You should’ve known. Your eyes passed over her beautiful dress and pinned up hair. She lived up to the rumours, she was definitely the prettiest girl in the room. Next to Sylus the pair reminded you of a renaissance painting. They made sense, and clearly not just aesthetically if he brought her as his date instead of you.
Sylus saw the way your eyes trailed off to MC standing next to him. He saw the self-doubt turn your eyes glassy, and all he wanted to do was whisk you away to a private room where he could show you just how badly he wanted you, and no one else.
But his enemies were in attendance tonight, it was part of the reason he didn’t want you there. Sylus’s only weakness used to be his mortality, and even that was debatable. But now his biggest weakness was tangible, and she wore an adorable Christmas themed dress that made every man in the room brim with desire. Miss Hunter may have been the focus of all the women in attendance, but all the men could talk about was the sexy server in the little red dress. It was driving him insane. 
But MC was a hunter and if he endangered her, she could get out of it unscathed without his help. Their enemies were the same, which made them perfect allies, but it also made their loved ones easy targets. Sylus would never forgive himself if he let someone hurt you. So despite the excruciating pain that coursed through him at your hurt expression, he did nothing to quell your concerns.
But he couldn’t idly stand by and let this man make a pass at you either. It was clear Henry was not aware of Sylus’s newly established no-fraternising-with-the-staff policy. 
“Henry, not distracting my staff, are you?” Sylus directed his attention to his business associate. Henry ran a security company which supplied a large portion of their weaponry from Onychinus. The contract they shared was a substantial source of revenue that Sylus couldn’t afford to compromise. 
“I’m just wondering where you found such delectable staff.” Sylus felt his jaw clench at the way Henry undressed you with his eyes and your consequential discomfort. Fuck the contract, he was going to make that man pay. But he couldn’t inflict his revenge quite yet, so he played nice. 
“Unfortunately my staff are exclusively mine. I’m sure you understand how difficult it is to find loyal help.” Well, at least he tried to play nice. The subtle jab at Henry’s recent whistleblower scandal was a low blow, but he wasn’t above kicking below the belt.
Annoyed and slightly confused by the exchange, you rolled your eyes at the testosterone-fuelled men bickering and cleared your throat.
“I think I’m needed in the kitchen. Nice meeting you, Henry.” You gave him the kindest smile you could muster and gave Sylus no smile at all. It was the least he deserved for blindsiding you with his date. 
“I should check on the catering, excuse me.” Sylus followed you to the kitchen and the second he caught up to you, he pulled you into a nearby storage closet.
There was barely any room for the both of you in there, so you were pressed up against his body. You tried to create some distance between you two, but he just pulled you back in by your waist.
“What are you doing? I’m supposed to be working and you’re supposed to be socialising. We can’t do those things from here.” You berated him quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn’t really need anyone from the staff discovering you in this compromising position. You’d had enough embarrassment in one night for a lifetime.
“Miss Hunter is just here with me on business.” Sylus’s statement did little to comfort the tumultuous storm in your mind. 
“I don’t care.” In a sense, it was true. It seemed your mind didn’t care whether Miss Hunter was there with him on business or not, it still hurt all the same. 
“Don’t lie to me, I can tell when you’re upset.” Sylus tried to caress your cheek but you pushed his hand away. 
“Okay, fine. I’m upset. Now will you let me leave?” You tried to wriggle out of his grasp but to no avail. His hand squeezed your face as he forced you to face him. 
“If you’re upset, talk to me about it. Don’t antagonise me by flirting with other men. It won’t end well for them.” The fire in his eyes swore retribution and you did not want to be Henry right now.
“I wasn’t flirting!” You tried to defend yourself but you knew he’d see straight through your ruse. 
“That sweet smile of yours is reserved for me and me alone.” There was no way Sylus would’ve let that over-the-top smile slide and this was exactly how you expected him to react, but it only made you more upset.  
“Right, but I just have to make do with sharing you with Miss Hunter.” The irony of the situation was not lost on Sylus, but he had a laundry-list of crimes, hypocrisy was the least of them. 
“I’m all yours, baby. I promise it’s just business.” He sounded sincere, and you trusted him to tell you the truth. Sylus never lied unless it was out of omission, but when you asked him a direct question, he never failed to answer honestly. 
“I can help you with business.” You tried to reason, your palm resting against his pounding heart. 
“Not this kind, sweetheart. I’m just trying to protect you. I need you to trust me.” You trusted Sylus with your life, with your heart. Which was why you knew you wouldn’t like the answer to the question you asked next. 
“Did you sleep with her?” The mere thought of it tasted like acid on your tongue. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of Sylus’s past, but where the other women in his life came and left like the tide, Miss Hunter’s presence was persistent. 
You needed to know just how far they’d gone, even if it might destroy you. 
“Yes. It was one time when we first met in September. Before I realised how I felt for you.” The words pierced straight through you like bullets of radiation. Your palm slowly slipped off of his chest and you diverted your gaze to your heels. “Y/N, you know I only want you. It meant nothing to me.” 
Perhaps it wasn’t the fact that they’d slept together that hurt you so deeply. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, the way she got under his skin. Sylus may love you, but what if he wasn’t attracted to you?
The thought slipped out of you before you could mull it over. “How am I supposed to believe that when you were all over in seconds and you won’t even kiss me?!” 
A hint of recognition flashed through Sylus’s eyes as he realised the catalyst behind your frustration. For some odd reason that he could never figure out, you were insecure. Even though your charm bordered on lethal and your beauty was unparalleled, you still felt inadequate. It perplexed him how someone could look so divine and not be aware of it.
“I haven’t kissed you because I wanted to make sure you were ready, sweetheart. I was worried I’d scare you away, because I’m sure if I got a taste of you I wouldn’t know how to stop.” He sounded strained when he spoke, as if he was recalling his frustration at having to hold back. 
You watched him intently, his words dripped with a desire you both shared. With his body so close to yours, it was hard not to wish he’d just act on his primal instincts. 
“You’re entirely unaware of your affect on me. You have no idea how precarious the string holding me back from insanity has become. When I saw you in that dress, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to hold back. But then you'd look up at me with those angelic eyes and I realise I can’t risk losing you.” 
Before you could even think it through, your desire became overwhelming and your lips were on his in an instant.
It was nothing like you expected, nothing like the chaste, sweet kisses you saw in your movies. It was heated, messy, desperate. His lips ravaged yours like a man on death row devoured his last meal. You felt his desire with every movement and all the doubt you had dissipated instantly. His hands were all over you, one softly held on to your neck, while the other held on to your waist like you might disappear. 
His lips moved to your cheek, your jaw and eventually the sensitive skin on your collarbone. When he bit a particularly sensitive part of your neck, you let out a whine. You hoped he hadn't given you a hickey. His face came up to yours as he looked at your lips which were red from the impact and the desire running rampant in your eyes. It might’ve been the most beautiful you’d ever looked.
“Well? I’m still here.” You whispered against his lips before giving him a chaste peck.
Sylus knew you weren’t just talking about this moment. You never left, even when he gave you a million reasons why you should. He didn’t know what he did to deserve such luck, but he knew he’d never give you a reason to walk away from him ever again.
“We should get out of here.” Somehow you knew he didn’t just mean the storage closet. He shifted to lead you out but you quickly stopped him.
“You can’t leave your own party! What about your date?” As much as the idea of MC hanging off his arm made your skin crawl, it wasn’t right to just leave her alone. 
“She’ll be fine. The only woman I care about is right in front of me, and I want to do so much to her than kiss her in a storage closet.” There was an underlying promise in his tone, and you felt the slightest bit of fear that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew.
“You’ve lasted this long, what’s one more night?” Your last ditch effort to escape the dangerous situation was unsuccessful. 
“Sweetheart, I can't wait another second.” He gave you a soft, gentle kiss that conveyed his fraying restraint. Your fear felt inconsequential when he was with you, you knew you could trust him wholly with every part of you. 
So, when he led you out of the storage closet and all the way to his bedroom, you never once felt scared. Or insecure. Or inadequate. Sylus worshipped you like you were his salvation and he never once let you doubt yourself again.
Later that night, as you laid in his bed underneath his covers, staring over at his peaceful sleeping expression, you realised he was your salvation too.
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Christmas Day
“What’s the surprise?” You asked the same question for the umpteenth time. 
“Just be patient, we’re almost there.” You let Sylus lead you through what you thought was a building while you obediently kept your eyes shut. Eventually your feet came to a halt, and you were bursting with anticipation. 
“Alright, open your eyes.” When you opened them you were in the living room of a charming beach house. It was so bright it took your eyes a while to adjust, but when they did you noticed that it was decorated with splashes of your favourite shade of yellow. The large balcony doors opened to the sight of a familiar beach, and you felt a range of emotions wash over you all at once. Sadness, nostalgia, yearning. 
“Merry Christmas, baby.” Sylus’s voice behind you snapped you back to reality. 
“What is this place?” The awe in your voice could not be concealed.
“It’s yours. I know how much you hate being on the beach, but I also know it meant a lot to your mother. From this balcony it’ll be like you’re right there without actually being there.” He sounded almost nervous while presenting his gift to you, worried you might hate it. But there wasn’t a word that could describe the pure gratitude and love you felt for the man standing in front of you. 
“You bought me a house on my mother’s favourite beach?” The disbelief in your voice was almost tangible. 
“Yeah.”
“Sylus, all I got you was a pocket watch!” You thought that since you were both not very big on Christmas, you would exchange small gifts. Clearly small wasn’t a word Sylus kept in his vocabulary. 
“You gave me so much more than that.” The suggestion in his voice did nothing to soothe your guilt. 
“This is too much.”
“Y/N, you’re more familiar with my assets than I am, if this made a significant dent in my bank account I think you would’ve noticed when I bought it a month ago.” 
“You’ve had this for a month?” The shock persisted, but he was right. His expenses ranged from a box of paperclips to the purchase of a two-hundred-million dollar industrial complex. 
“Yes, I bought it the first time you asked me to take you to the beach after work.”
“But what if we didn’t work out?” A month ago that seemed like a palpable possibility, but now you couldn’t imagine your life without Sylus in it.
“I’d find a way to trick you into taking it anyway.” 
You all but rolled your eyes at the memory of his less-than-graceful plan to acquire your house until you ended up working for him again. 
“Right, of course. You’re quite good at that I hear.” 
“I’m good at many things, I’ll remind you later.” He drawled against your ear, but before you could force him to act on his promise he spoke up again. “For now, there’s one more surprise.” 
You let Sylus lead you out to the balcony with his hands on your shoulders, driving you forward. He stood behind you, his chest to your back. He pointed to a hill on the left of the house where a beautiful willow tree sat atop the beach on a cliff.
“I bought that plot of land too. I don’t want to overstep, but if you’d like, we could move your mother here. Have her final resting place be at the place she loved the most.” His voice kept you anchored as memories of your mother threatened to pull you away. It still filled your chest with overwhelming sadness when you thought of her, but the thought that she could spend forever in the place that brought her the most joy filled you with relief. You didn’t get to give your mother much, but at least Sylus helped you give her this. 
You couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your face if you tried.
Sylus had come a long way from that day at the graveyard, an even longer way from the day you met him. The fact that he grew to care about your mother as much as you did made your heart swell with love for him that expanded every day. Something you didn’t even think was possible.
“She would love that.” Sylus wrapped his hands around your waist, placing an ever-so-gentle kiss on your temple. “I wish you could’ve met her when she was alive, you would’ve loved her.” They were both the strongest people you knew, and it pained you that they never got to meet. 
“I’m sure I would have. After all, I am a huge fan of her work.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at his cheesy joke. You were rubbing off on him, that was for sure. He peppered kisses all over the side of your face at the sound of your joyful laugh and you had to squeeze out of his grasp to make him stop. 
While you wished you didn’t have to lose someone so important to you to gain another, things always had a weird way of working out. Your future was still murky, but what you did know for sure was that ’Operation Sylus: No More’ could officially be declared a massive failure. And even though the physical hole in your heart still existed, the proverbial one shrunk to half it’s size; and you had the silver-haired man with the stone-encased heart of gold to thank for that. 
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paarksunghoon · 7 months ago
Text
grocery store receipts (sunghoon)
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SUMMARY: your hot neighbor seems to have everything you don’t: charm, confidence, and a sense of direction in life. you’ve managed to keep to yourself in the time you’ve lived across from his apartment but the holiday season brings brings out unresolved feelings, and you find that the best present of all has always been standing right in front of you.
WORD COUNT: 31.5K.
PLAYLIST: I ended up making one for this fic
NOTES: consider this a love letter to sunghoon. this story had three plots before it became what it is right now. I’m not somebody who generally enjoys the holidays but wish I could be, so this is a bit of a diary entry, of sorts. (me to me: it’s really not that serious.)
and thanks to @moonstruck-muses for being the best person I know…I love who I am when I’m with you and I’m so grateful that you ended up tagging along to oomf’s house all those months ago. kinda hilarious that I knew you’d be a jake girl before you did, but I think that sums up the kind of friendship we have. 🩷
WARNINGS: fluff & angst, mentions of poor childhoods and bad parental relationships, a whole lot of Christmas talk, smut in the form of: dry humping, oral (f. receiving), missionary, sunghoon’s kinda obsessed with her chest, multiple orgasms, fingering. unprotected sex, creampie, and typos, probably.
MASTERLIST
****
“Did you bring the sweater?”
Jake holds up a large white paper bag and pulls out the fabric, pushing the decorative detail in your direction. “Boom. You’ll win the ugly sweater competition, no doubt.”
“It’s not a contest.” You take the bag from him and Jake beams at you with that boyish smile he has when he gets excited about something. You feel a bit soft that he’s excited for you. “But thank you for letting me borrow it.” 
Heeseung grabs the sweater and holds it up in front of him. “This…is something else. Why do you have it in the first place?”
“It’s got a disco dance floor with breakdancing gingerbread men,” Jake deadpans. “It’s snowing inside the club. Why wouldn’t I buy it?”
Jay laughs. “He saw it at a thrift store last Christmas and bought it on a whim. I don’t think he’s worn it, so it’s good that you’re taking it off his hands.”
“I still want it back even if I have nowhere to wear it to.” 
You bump Jake’s hip. “You could always wear it to run errands.” 
He makes a face. “I’m not that crazy.” 
Heeseung folds the sweater and puts it back in the bag before handing it off to you for safekeeping when all four of you walk deeper into the bar. It’s cold outside. It’s the kind of weather that has you layered up in a scarf and a large peacoat that shields you from the chilly bite of the air. Summer has long passed and spring isn’t for another few months, and the joy you feel from the temperature dropping echoes within the warm bar you find yourself in. The juxtaposition of snowy air met with a warm furnace feels comforting in all of the right ways.
You offer to get a table and hum in appreciation with Jay and Jake volunteer to split the first round. They know your order on a weekday evening—whiskey sour—because you don’t like to go overboard when you have to wake up early the next morning. Heeseung slides into the booth beside you and nudges your shoulder.
“Are you still interested in the Marketing Lead position? I heard Kang Eunji’s transferring to the Tokyo office and that the company is looking to hire internally.”
“Now how would you know that, Lee Heeseung?” He shrugs with an uptick to the corner of his mouth.
“I have my ways.”
“Did you, by any chance, flirt with our floor’s secretary to get this information?” 
Heeseung’s cheeks reddens. “It’s not my fault that she’s into me, okay?! I’ve turned her down plenty of times because I don’t do workplace relationships, but I’ll make an exception if that means helping my best friend get promoted.”
“Poor girl. She probably thinks you’re stringing her along.” Heeseung rolls his eyes.
“I’m doing nothing of that sort. I just smiled at her, complimented her dress, and asked if the rumors about Eunji leaving were true.” 
“You walk through life getting everything you want handed to you, huh?” Heeseung smiles innocently but the two of you end up sharing a laugh. 
“I’m serious, though. I don’t know how much I can help since everybody in the office knows we’re close. They’ll definitely think I bias you over other candidates.”
“Don’t you?” 
“Well yeah, but let’s consider there are a few other people whose words matter more than mine.” 
“That is awfully nice of you. I’m a little concerned that you might have something up your sleeve but I appreciate you.” 
He laughs. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have a good Christmas.” The boyish smile he wears makes you feel tender but you push against him anyway.
“You’re a little scary when you’re nice to me.” 
“What? I can’t be nice to the girl who spilled hot coffee down my shirt the first time we met?”
You mumble. “I’m clumsy.”
“Are we talking about you being an absolute klutz?” Jay puts your drink in front of you. “If so, do you remember the time we were playing tennis in my backyard and you tripped over grass?”
“Okay, okay! I get it. I have terrible coordination and fine motor skills.” You hide your smile behind the glass and thank them for the drink before Jake speaks up.
“You’ll have to send me a picture of you in the sweater. I want to put it up in my fridge, or something. What’s it for anyway?”
“The company Heeseung and I work at hosts spirit month every holiday season,” you explain. “Every Friday is casual dress day, but starting in the first week of November, there’s a holiday theme and I think it’s fun to dress up.”
“I’m surprised at how many people do it,” Heeseung chimes in.
“I’m sure we can find one day that works for you.”
“I’ll only consider dressing up if you can make it look tasteful.”
“Please just dress up once,” you beg. “You can wait until it gets close to Christmas. Besides, you’d look good in some of the categories.”
“What are the themes?” Jay asks.
“Next week is Winter Wonderland and the week after that is Red Day. I’m pretty sure there’s a Pajama Day somewhere.”
“Well, I might show up to the office in sweats.”
“That’s the spirit!”
“I wish my job did something fun.” Jake pouts behind his beer. “I’m in a lab all day so even if I wore something festive, it’s covered by a white coat.”
Jay laughs. “You act like being able to wear a white coat is a bad thing.”
“It is when you can’t see break dancing gingerbread men.”  
“Have you guys started Christmas shopping?” Heeseung stares at the drink in his hand as if a lightbulb hangs over his head. “All this holiday talk made me realize I haven’t started thinking about what to get my friends and family. I have absolutely no idea what to get you guys.”
“You could get me a free week at your client’s fancy hotel.” Heeseung looks at Jay and deadpans, whereas the younger boy laughs.
“I’d get myself a weekend vacation before I give it to you.” He sighs. “It would be fun if all four of us could go on a vacation away from Seoul, though. No worries, no work, and no responsibilities.”
“The lab’s slowing down and I’ve made a list of people I need to give gifts to.” Jake pulls his phone out and shows everybody the note on his phone, aptly titled ‘CHRISTMAS PRESENTS FOR THE HOMIES.’ You try to see what he’s put beside your name but he pulls his phone away faster than you can read.
Jay looks at you. “I’ll bet you've been prepared since summer.”
“I’m only put together when it comes to the holidays, Jay.”
“Does that mean you have most of your gifts wrapped?” 
You nod proudly. “You know me too well.”
“I want to know what you got me.” 
“Nope, no guessing.”
“I don’t think you can beat last year’s gift for him,” Jake snickers. “Poor Jay almost had a heart attack when you were able to get his guitar signed by Hisashi Tonomura since you worked with him for a campaign.” 
“That was tricky because I didn’t know how to ask for your guitar without tipping you off.”
“I knew you wanting to learn how to play was a bullshit excuse,” Jay says with a laugh. “But looking back at it now, that really was a great gift.” 
Heeseung raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Are you getting anything for your cute next door neighbor?” You aren’t tipsy by any means, but the mere mention of the hot guy who lives across the hall from your apartment makes your cheeks feel warm. The guys laugh when you look away from them and you hear their laughter ringing in your ears as you try to maintain your shyness.
“No, Heeseung. It would be weird of me to get a gift for someone I barely know.”
“Maybe you should!” Jake nudges your knee with the tip of his shoe. “You guys could fall in love for all anybody knows.” 
You smile weakly. “I’m too scared to talk to him. He’s so…hot.” 
Jay snorts. “So you tell us.” 
Your neighbor, who you and the guys have dubbed ‘The Stranger,’ moved into your building nearly a year ago. In that time, you haven’t mustered up the courage to say anything to him. You keep it at awkward eye contact when you see him leaving or arriving at the same time and begin daydreaming the minute you lock your door behind you. His dark hair, striking brown eyes, and pouty lips is enough to make him the subject of your waking thoughts. 
Your friends seem to overestimate your confidence and encourage you to talk to The Stranger, but your resolve crumbles every time you make eye contact with him. Surely a man like that belongs only in fairy tale books or those cliché romance novels middle-aged women seem to like so much. He’s always impeccably dressed with fitted clothing and a clean face that never seems to have blemishes. He must be well off because you recognize name brands adorning his chiseled body.
His demeanor intimidates you too. The Stranger always stands with his chin parallel to the floor and walks with his shoulder held back as if invisible books were stacked on top of his head. The way he carries himself makes you think he’s confident and it intimidates you because you’re anything but. The Stranger is always polite, acknowledging you if he happens to see you around your shared hallway, but he remains aloof with barely a glance before disappearing. He is every bit tall, dark, and handsome, and you’re a little too unsure of yourself to ever make the first move. 
Heeseung, your closest friend since you moved to Seoul, always tells you there’s nothing to fear and that rejection isn’t the end of the world. You try to take his advice but Heeseung is the type of person who never has never had to worry about rejection because people are lining up the doors for him. He’s got a charming personality that almost certainly helped secure his promotion at the company you two work. He’s also got enough charisma and good looks to hook women in. Heeseung doesn’t have to lift a finger to get anybody to pay attention to him. Besides, you’d rather live in this yearning stage of your life than face the awkwardness of seeing him after he rejects you. 
(“If he rejects you,” you hear Heeseung’s voice say in the back of your mind.)
It’s the same for Jay and Jake, too. They’re both incredibly handsome and know their way around people, even if they’re a bit shy at times. Jake especially, who has a clear accent in the way he speaks, can easily make friends with anybody at the mere mention of the way he speaks. Jay attracts people left and right because of his chiseled jawline and the fact that he’s musically gifted, and people stay because he’s incredibly compassionate and attentive.
You love your friends because they’re wonderful people who always seem to know how you’re feeling and what you’re thinking before you can tell them. But you’re a little bit envious that the world seems to work out for them without doing too much. You find that your experiences have the opposite outcome and you’ve had your fair share of rejection stories across every aspect of your life. All of your insecurities have been with you from childhood until now, and trying to be the bigger person is becoming harder every single day. It’s probably what keeps you from doing anything but approach the attractive man that lives across from you. The Stranger is simply somebody too beautiful and you aren’t sure if you’re worthy enough to be somebody he can look at. 
“He’s hot and single.” Heeseung puts his hand on his chin. “Doesn’t seem like a problem to me.” 
“We don’t know that he’s single.”
“I wish I knew what he looked like.” Jake pouts at his beer. “Who doesn’t have an Instagram or social media?” 
“You’re one to talk. You barely post on Instagram and every picture you have is outdated. I’m pretty sure the only person who cares enough is Jay.” 
The aforementioned speaks next. “Has he ever brought girls home before?” 
You shrug. “I don’t think so?” 
“There you have it. He’s single, hot, and you should make a move on him! You never know what’ll happen.” 
“Can we drop it?” you ask, starting to feel a bit restless where you sit. “It’ll happen if it’s meant to happen.” Jake sits back and tries to hide his sulk, although you know he only wants the best for you so you try not to feel annoyed. 
“Are any of you going home for the holidays?” Jay asks to break the silence. 
“Probably not,” Heeseung replies. “My family wanted to go somewhere tropical and spending time in the heat doesn’t sound too good to me. I’ll probably see them when they get back and make a weekend out of it.” 
“Same here.” Jake finishes off the rest of his beer. “My brother’s coming from Brisbane and my parents are spending it back home, but we agreed to meet up next year since they visited Seoul a few months back. You?”
“Staying here because my extended family will be here for a week or so. I’ve got some family obligations but they told me to take it easy now that I’m living on my own.” 
“Sounds like you guys will be bothering each other even more now, huh?”
Jay laughs. “Yeah, I guess so. What about you? Are you going back home this year?” 
You look down at your hands. “I don’t know yet. My mom keeps asking if she should expect me to come home but I’ve put off making that decision for a long time. It’s just hard, you know? After dealing with my dad and everything that went down a few years ago…I don’t know if I’m ready to go back.” 
Her voice lingers in the back of your head the more you think about it. You don’t talk to her often and leave phone calls with her around two to three times a week. She sends you Instagram reels she thinks are funny and you do your best to laugh at them too. But the reality is that talking to her about the holidays reminds you of everything you’re running away from. 
It’s been four years since you moved for a fresh start after university. Seoul used to be so big and enticing compared to the small fishing town you hail from. The streets smell like delicious savory and sweet goods instead of the raw stench of live bait and wet creatures. The lights that illuminate the night sky due to the gargantuan billboards make you feel like this city never truly sleeps because the next adventure is at arm’s length. It’s what you’ve craved for so long and now that you have it, going back to your neighborhood is starting to make you feel guilty for achieving one of your dreams and leaving everything behind. 
Your friends seem to know what’s running through your head. You’ve been this way every winter since they met you. Heeseung gently nudges your arm with his elbow to pull you out of your thoughts. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? We’ll be here for you.”
“I know. I just feel guilty for not going back home since I moved. It’s a two hour train ride but I can’t bring myself to buy the ticket. It’s so hard to be in a place that brings you bad memories.”
“We’ll keep you company this Christmas,” Jake promises. “We aren’t going anywhere so there’s no reason for you to be alone.” 
“Thanks, guys. I’m sorry that I brought the mood down.” 
“What else is drinking at bars for if not to lament about the sad shit?” Jake smiles when that pulls a laugh out of you. 
“Yeah, you’re right. But if I’m hungover at work tomorrow, it’s your fault.”
***
Despite a difficult conversation that sparked haunting nostalgic memories to resurface at once, you managed to keep your drinking to a minimum and stopped yourself after a single cocktail. Heeseung dropped you off and promised to be back to carpool to work tomorrow, and the last thing you thought about before sleeping was The Stranger. 
Your under eye bags aren’t as groggy as they are when you’d drink the night away, but they still feel heavy underneath you. Moisturizer and concealer can only do so much to get rid of the dark circles on your face so you make do and send a silent prayer that you’ll look decent for the entire day. Jake’s ugly sweater hangs perfectly against your dresser and you do your best to style around the atrocious design, but it makes you smile to see such a ridiculous piece of clothing on your body. It reminds you that the holidays are beginning and you try to think about all of the festivities in the area instead of the looming doom of going back to your hometown during this time of year. You take a quick picture of yourself and send it in the group chat, thanking Jake for the impeccably horrible sweater. Once your work bag is packed, Heeseung tells you he’s parked outside of your apartment building. 
You step outside and lock your door only to be greeted by The Stranger.
He blinks when he takes note of the dancing gingerbread men and cocks his head trying to make sense of him. The Stranger, on the other hand, is wearing a fitted longsleeve shirt that nearly molds around the muscles of his arm and baggy pants that somehow make him seem taller than you recall. His hands are adorned with silver jewelry and his shoes look like they might be as expensive as your monthly rent. You’re starting to feel the juxtaposition of your outfit compared to his when he looks at you and the design of the fabric feels heavy on your shoulders.
“That is an ugly sweater.” The Stranger widens his eyes and the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink when his words finally register. “I just mean that your sweater is…interesting.” 
You can’t help but laugh. “It’s alright. This sweater is really ugly.” 
“Any particular reason as to why you’re wearing it, then?” 
“Today’s a holiday spirit day at work,” you explain to him. “Every Friday has a different theme and today just so happens to be Ugly Sweater Day.”
“I hope you get a consolation prize because, wow…that truly is an atrocious piece of clothing.”
The two of you start to make your way towards the elevator, and stand in awkward silence as you wait for it to reach your floor. You see him stealing glances at the design and feel your neck warming up, and start to wish you could take it off. The thought of this outfit being The Stranger's first impression of you makes you feel humiliated, but Heeseung is waiting for you outside and Jake didn’t give it to you just for it to hang in your closet. 
The chime alerts you to the doors opening and The Stranger allows you to get in first. You're about to press the button for the lobby when he beats you to it. You settle into an uncomfortable silence, resisting the urge to itch your palms and shift awkwardly to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Everything about him screams opulence, from the way he stands to the way his cologne smells. You aren’t sure that you can name the notes in the scent, but it smells extremely expensive. Even the way he stands makes you feel like you should fix your posture. 
“I’m Sunghoon,” says The Stranger. His deep voice echoes in the elevator and your throat feels dry as you tell him your name. “I’ll remember that for when we inevitably run into each other.” 
The lobby is fairly empty but you can see the hustle and bustle of city life when you look past the glass walls. Heeseung is sitting in his car, scrolling on his phone when Sunghoon opens the door for you and lets you walk out in front of him. You feel him looking at you and turn around one last time. He takes one more look at the sweater and nods. 
“Well, uh, have a good spirit day at work.”
“T-Thanks!” 
You don’t wait for his reaction and turn around to walk towards Heeseung’s car that you noticed has been recently washed. He unlocks the doors when he hears you tugging on the handles and looks at the sweater before bursting out into laughter.
“Jesus, that sweater is so fucking ugly.” 
“Thanks.” 
When you don’t put your seatbelt on, Heeseung turns to see that you’re looking outside of the window. He darts his eyes to see if he can catch a glimpse of your line of sight but comes up empty. You look fresh for this hour of the morning and Heeseung wonders if the smile on your face is because of the upcoming spirit day. 
“What are you looking at?”
You whip your head to your friend, who looks at you quizzically. “You will not believe who I talked to this morning.” 
“Who? Santa?” Heeseung looks at the photo you sent in the group chat earlier. “Nice selfie, by the way. You look like an elf.”
You swat his shoulder. “No, dummy.”
“Then who did you meet?” 
“My neighbor.” Heeseung’s jaw drops and you swat his shoulder again. He winces, but you can’t find it in yourself to care too much and buckle yourself to his passenger seat. “We gotta get to work. Drive and I’ll tell you.”
He grips the wheel and starts the fifteen minute journey. “Did you finally introduce yourself to him?” 
“Not quite. We walked out of our apartments at the same time. He said, and I quote, ‘That is an ugly sweater.’”
“I don’t know whether to be happy or sorry for you.”
“I feel stupid because of all the days I had to run into him, it had to be today.” Heeseung’s seat warmers make it all that more enticing to sulk. You tug at the hem and inspect the design, feeling somewhat regretful that you chose to participate in today’s spirit day. “I told him a little bit about why I’m wearing it and he seemed to think it was funny.” 
“Does he smell good?” You flick Heeseung’s arm, who laughs in the driver’s seat.
“Shut up. But yeah, he really does.” 
“What’s his name?” 
“Sunghoon.” Your mouth curves into a smile. 
“Sunghoon. Nice name. Sounds fancy.” 
“I guess so. He does wear a lot of name brands and high luxury fashion.”
“His name definitely suits him, then.” 
To nobody’s surprise, you have the best ugly sweater throughout the office. More people participated than you and Heeseung had originally guessed and the holiday-themed snacks your division manager provided was enough to boost office morale. The weather outside is getting darker earlier and you even feel a bit restless after sitting in your office for a while. 
Heeseung watches you from behind your frosted doors as he talks to the floor secretary to order files and copies of his projects, and the sight of you in that horrendous sweater with a smile on your face makes him smile too. You’ve looked like that the entire day, from picking you up and throughout lunch, and Heeseung wonders if could ever convince you to make a move on your neighbor since you talk about him so much. He doesn’t know how much longer he can listen to your fantasies while being extremely shy to strike a conversation with him. 
He turns to the group chat he has with Jay and Jake. You’re notably absent from this text thread (as told by the name of the group chat) and they use it to discuss anything deemed ‘guy stuff’ (most infamously when you text “TAKE THIS ELSEWHERE” when they start getting too boyish for your taste).
The Gentlemen’s Club 
heeseung: GUYS. She met her neighbor this morning
heeseung: His name is Sunghoon and he saw her with Jake’s ugly sweater
heeseung: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
jake: IS HE CUTE
heeseung: I think so. She was blushing the entire car ride here and could barely say anything until we parked 
jake: fuck yea. i trust her taste in men because she thinks byeon wooseok and kim jaeyoung are hot. they’re gonna fall in love guys 
jay: If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Jake had one too many cups of coffee  
jake: well yes BUT u know me and you know i think they’ll have a meet cute
heeseung: Technically they already had one. Although I don’t if I’d call it a meet cute since he called your sweater ugly to her face
jake: whatever. you know what I mean. we should find out what he looks like 
jay: And how are we gonna do that?   
jake: idk maybe throw a little get together this weekend
heeseung: That’s a little soon, no? 
jake: next weekend then. 
jake: I can host at my place. tell her to bring whoever she wants. I need an excuse for a housewarming anyway 
jay: You moved in three months ago tho??
jake: it’s time to have one now!!!! I’ll text the group chat with all of us 
Heeseung switches to the group chat with you in it. 
The Family Unit:
jake: housewarming. my place. next saturday. 6pm. bring food 
jay: If you’re throwing the party, why do we need to bring the food
jake: because I am hosting god knows how many people and I cannot afford all of that 
heeseung: We can figure this out later 
you: Jaeyun, didn’t you move in three months ago ???
jay: THAT’S WHAT I SAID.
jake: we can have an official party now!!!!. bring whoever you want as long as they’re cool
you: Say less!!! I’m there. I’ll bring dessert
jake: 🤤
jay: Can I leave this group chat?
It’s painfully boring for the rest of the day as you all tie up loose ends before 6 PM hits, but you power through it and let your assistant go home for the day. With the weekend looming near after sending a few more emails, you swear you can feel the tension exiting your body. Heeseung knocks on your door and steps inside as you send one last message to a client. 
“You should invite Sunghoon.” 
“To what?” you ask him, temporarily clouded by end-of-week work stress.
“To Jake’s housewarming, dude. It’s the perfect excuse to talk to him again.” You sit back in your chair and look at him as he sits in front of you. 
“I don’t think I have the guts to do that.”
“It’s easy. Knock on his door and tell him there’s gonna be free food and drinks next weekend.”
You scoff. “Easy for you to say. You’re like a magnet. People are drawn to you because you have no problem socializing with people you don’t know.”
“You and I are friends, aren’t we? I must be doing something right.”
“Meeting at work four years ago hardly counts as socializing. It was forced proximity.” Heeseung puts his hand over his heart and pretends to cry.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I like being friends with you and you aren’t as awkward as you think you are. I think Sunghoon, or anyone for that matter, would feel that way too. You just need to put yourself out there.”
You slump back in your desk chair. “I know…It’s hard to push myself to get to know someone, though. It’s like there’s an invisible line I can’t seem to cross and it gets worse when I talk to people I find attractive. He’s like, really hot.”
“You talk to me every day and do just fine.” Expertly, he dodges when you throw a pen at him and laughs when you grunt in dissatisfaction. “What are you so scared of?”
“I don’t know. Looking like an idiot, for one. He’s so beautiful and I don’t feel worthy of him.”
“He’s a man, first of all,” Heeseung deadpans, “so he’s already beneath you.”
“Wow, so you do listen to my I-hate-men rants.”
“Yeah, because I care about you and men suck.”
“You and the guys especially when you won’t leave my apartment.” 
“But your apartment is so cozy.” You threaten to throw another pen and smile when he flinches. 
“I’m afraid of making things awkward if he doesn’t want to get to know me like that. We’ve acknowledged that we’re neighbors and all, but what if I ask him to come to Jake’s party, he says no, and thinks I’m a weirdo and a creep for asking him that after one conversation?”
“Then he’s a weirdo for being creeped out. Anyone who gets offended by being invited somewhere is weird. You’re a nice person trying to do a nice thing. There’s nothing wrong with making friends.”
Heeseung is right, like he typically always is, and you ponder on his words. Since the first time you saw Sunghoon, you’ve treated him as some fictitious crush that exists only within your head and muse over the small interactions and indulge yourself when thinking about him. Romance seems far fewer in between and you choose to stick to television shows and books that make your heart flutter instead of going on multiple dates just to find out the two of you aren’t compatible. 
It feels like an endless cycle of hopelessness at times. You’ll watch your friends fall in love and try to empathize with that kind of unfiltered joy that comes with knowing somebody loves you just as much as you love them, but you fall flat when the reality weighs in. You don’t think you’ve ever fallen in love or have felt anything remotely close to falling for someone so deeply that you lose yourself in it. It’s probably a good thing, but the yearning doesn’t seem to end even though you know it’s for the best. 
Pinning all of the qualities you’d want in a boyfriend on the stranger next door seemed like a safe bet because you never thought about the possibility of getting to know him. Sunghoon is someone who is as quiet as a mouse, never making too much noise when he’s in his apartment. He’s a model tenant who always pays his bills on time and never causes a disturbance to the building. Facing the reality that is perceiving him as anything but what your imagination conjured up makes you a little uneasy. You admire from afar but the idea of a hot guy looking in your direction makes you feel somewhat unworthy of their attention. 
“I’ll think about it,” is all you offer. Heeseung seems to be pleased at your answer and doesn’t pry any further. “Are you done with work?”
“Yup. I decided everything else could wait until Monday and sent my assistant home.” 
“Look at us being good managers.”
“We’re everything we said we would ve and then some.” Heeseung grabs your pea coat from the closet and helps you put it on when you round the corner of your desk one sleeve at a time. “Do you remember Song Bitna?”
“How could I ever forget,” you scoff, retrieving your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “She used to make us run laps and get upset that our work wasn’t completed.”
“She made me go on more personal errands than anything work related. It’s a wonder how I managed to get promoted.”
You push the door to your office open and say goodnight to your remaining coworkers. “There’s a reason why we’re here and she isn’t. It’s good to know we aren’t shitty bosses.”
“I hope so. Sometimes I get in my own head and wonder if I’m managing everything correctly. I want my assistant to learn from me, you know?” Heeseung allows you to step into the elevator before walking in after you. 
“Yeah, but you’re good at everything you do. You should have more faith in yourself.” He nudges your shoulder with his own.
“You should take your own advice.” You bite your lip and look down at the floor. “You’ve got a week. Think about it, okay?”
“I will.” 
“I was serious about the promotion as well. I’ll put in a good word but you should consider talking to the division lead.”
Classic Heeseung. He looks out for you in more ways than one. 
***
The weekend flies by too quickly for your liking and you find yourself at your desk on a Wednesday afternoon with a cup of tea sitting between your hands to warm up your palms. The building’s central heater stopped working a few hours into the workday, leaving you and many other office workers disgruntled and cold. You shut all of your windows and paced around your office to keep your blood circulating throughout your body. The morning was fairly productive until the heating went out and you've spent the last hour replying to emails with cold fingers, pushing any and all thoughts of Sunghoon out of your mind. 
You haven’t seen him since last Friday. Sunghoon doesn’t seem to have a routine that he sticks to–one that you can identify, anyway–because you didn’t run into him for the past three days. You waited anxiously by the elevator to see if he would come barreling down the hallway and ask you to hold the door for him, but each day was met with empty silence before stepping into Heeseung’s car. 
True to your word, you spent Saturday trying to convince yourself to ask if he’d be interested in coming with you to Jake’s housewarming party. You’d wane from decision to decision, telling yourself there’s nothing inherently wrong with asking somebody if they want to hang out, but the irrational side of your brain convinced you that it would be weird to open up that kind of dialogue with a stranger. You don’t know anything about him and he doesn’t know the first thing about you. But that’s what getting to know someone consists of, doesn’t it? 
Before you knew it, Sunday came around and it was starting to get dark outside your window. The urge to curl up into your blankets and spend the rest of the evening watching Netflix was too tempting. The more you watched your TV, the more you stared at your front door. It would take a minute, maybe two at the most, to ask Sunghoon if he’d like to come with you to Jake’s. The worst thing he could do is decline your invitation. He seemed nice enough on Friday when he saw you wearing the ugly sweater and you suppose he’d be nice about letting you down gently. But even so, rejection stings. 
Your feet carried you outside of your apartment door to knock on his. You waited with your heartbeat loud in your ears but heard nothing from the other end of the door. When you peeked down at the small gap below you, there weren’t any shadows or anything indicating that Sunghoon was home. Still, you knocked once more for good measure and waited thirty seconds to see if he would open the door. Even though the most logical explanation is that your neighbor wasn’t home, heat crept up your neck and splashed onto your cheeks as you quickly made your way back inside of your apartment. With the twist of the lock behind you, your couch and TV brought some much needed comfort and distraction from feeling embarrassed. 
Heeseung hadn’t asked you about Sunghoon on Monday or Tuesday, but seemed to remember when Jake sent a reminder earlier this morning. He swung by your office as the temperature dipped and you updated him on what transpired over the weekend with a defeated sigh. Ever the optimist, Heeseung told you to try again tonight since you might have a better chance at catching Sunghoon during a weeknight. 
The day goes by slower than you’d like and when Heeseung drops you off at your apartment, you make a dash for your sanctuary and rid yourself of the day’s grime by spending a long time underneath the hot shower. Work is simultaneously ramping up and slowing down as everyone is trying to complete projects before winter recess and you feel all of the tension leave your body once the hot water soothes over your shoulder blades. It’s still relatively early in the evening when your hair is half dry and you’ve just finished eating dinner. The entire time you wash your dirty dishes, your mind can’t help but wander towards Sunghoon and what Heeseung said earlier about trying to ask him again. Surely he’s in his apartment at this hour on a Wednesday evening. 
You decide to bite the bullet. After grabbing the cardigan that rests on the back of your couch, you put it on and decide against changing into your shoes since you’ll be stepping out for just a few minutes. Sunghoon’s door stares back at you as you close your own behind you and this time, you can hear the soft sounds of R&B behind it. 
This makes your heart rate pick up speed because the real possibility that you’ll be face to face with Sunghoon becomes too real for you to handle. You could barely utter complete sentences to him last week. What makes you think you could do it now? The same scenarios of rejection and humiliation ruminate in your mind the longer you stand outside. You contemplate going back inside but the thought of telling Heeseung you chickened out and seeing a potentially disappointed expression on his face makes you knock on Sunghoon’s door. 
Unlike the last time, you hear the sound of slippers shuffling against a hardwood floor. The lights are on from what you can tell underneath the gap of the door and you start to panic when you see a shadowy figure blocking that light. You assume Sunghoon must be looking through the peephole and resist the urge to fix your hair in case it looks horrible. The door opens momentarily.
“Hey. What’s up?” Sunghoon wears a pair of dark green sweatpants and a large graphic t-shirt that makes him look like the stereotypical boy next door. You look up at him and gulp.  
“Sorry to bother you,” you apologize, suddenly feeling a lump growing in the back of your throat. 
“You’re not bothering me,” Sunghoon says it with a smile. He opens the door wider. “Do you want to come inside?” You don’t really want to because you’re afraid you might trip and fall on your way inside, but you take up his offer anyway.
“Sure.” It comes out as a squeak.
His apartment is tidy and well kept with artwork adorning the walls in his living room. It’s more spacious than your own and his furniture makes the room look bigger than it probably is, with couches against the wall and a large TV in front of it. There are photographs hung in silver frames and pictures of people you don’t recognize, along with shelves of knick knacks and other small statues you assume are artwork he’s acquired over time. Sunghoon’s living room gives you the impression that he’s somebody who cares about taking care of himself and his space. He sees that you’re particularly drawn to the photo gallery on his wall and you feel him standing next to you.
“I took most of these pictures.” 
“Are you a photographer?”
“Not professionally, no. Photography is a hobby of mine.” 
“You’re really good.” 
“Thank you.” Sunghoon looks at you before averting his gaze back to the photo wall. “My mom gave me my first camera when I was eleven and I took it with me everywhere I went. Are you a photographer too?” 
You shake your head. “Oh no, I don’t have an artistic eye like you do. But I appreciate good photos when I see them, or so I’d like to think.” Sunghoon smiles at that.
“I’m glad you think my photographs are worthy of praise. This is the first photo I ever took.” He points to an image of a young girl in the center of the photo gallery, whose short arms are reaching for the camera. She wears an infectious smile on her face that reveals a dimple on the side of her cheek. 
“Wow, you were really good even back then. Who is she, if you don’t mind me asking?” 
“That’s my younger sister,” Sunghoon says with a fond smile. “I got this camera on my birthday and she wanted to see it after my dad helped me set it up. I think this might be my favorite photo I’ve ever taken.” 
“It’s a great shot.” You compliment Sunghoon sincerely and turn your head to look at him. He clears his throat. 
“What is it that you came here for?” 
“Oh, right!” Sheepishly balancing on both of your feet, you clasp your hands behind your back and lick your lips. “I, um, well…One of my best friends is hosting a housewarming party at his apartment, and I wanted to know if you’d like to come with me.” 
Sunghoon points at himself. “Me?” You nod. “I didn’t think we were that close.” You try not to let him see how embarrassed you are. 
“Sorry, it’s probably weird that I asked you even though we barely know each other, right?” It seems as though your brain cannot stop you from speaking, a habit you have every time you begin to feel nervous. You start to back away towards his front door. “It’s just that, well, we’ve been neighbors for almost a year and I thought to myself, why not make new friends? My friend told me to invite anybody I wanted to and we have a lot of the same friends, so I knew they’d be there too.” You wince at the sound of your voice. “Anyway, I’m sorry for bothering you and for asking.” 
Sunghoon shakes his head and grabs the doorknob before you can. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m honored that you invited me, actually. Living by yourself gets kind of lonely at times. It’s nice to go somewhere that isn’t home for a few hours. I’m a bit of an introvert and would like to make more friends.” 
“You don’t seem like an introvert to me,” you blurt out before slapping your palm over your mouth. “I mean, you’re doing just fine with me.”
He smiles at you. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 
“My friend’s a great host and loves meeting new people. You’ll make at least one friend by the time you leave. Even if you don’t, there’s gonna be food there, so you’ll have a free meal out of it.” 
“Should I bring anything?” 
You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it.” 
“I feel like I shouldn’t come there empty handed if it’s a housewarming.” 
“I’m making peppermint brownies,” you tell him. “I’ll say it’s from both of us.” 
Sunghoon seems to be satisfied with your answer. “When’s the party?” 
“This Saturday at six. We could, uh, go together? If you want to, that is.” 
“It makes sense to go together. Do you drive? I can drive us if you don’t.” 
“No, I don’t drive.” Your cheeks feel warm at your admission and you don’t know why your inability to operate a car makes you feel a bit bashful. Sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though. 
“Okay, I’ll drive us. Where does your friend live?”
“Not too far. He’s about twenty minutes from us.” 
“I’ll knock on your door around 5:30,” Sunghoon says with a single nod. He reaches around you to open his door for you. 
“Sounds good!” Sunghoon smiles and waves before saying goodnight. You watch him as the door closes and rush back into your apartment with your heart hammering in your chest as you sit on your couch and text Heeseung about everything that just transpired. When he asks if you asked for Sunghoon’s number, you slouch. You didn’t think about that and now you’re too embarrassed to back and ask for it. 
Three days pass by quicker than you anticipated and your plate of peppermint brownies sits covered in tin foil on your kitchen counter as you wait for Sunghoon to knock on your door. You spent the entirety of the day worrying about the sweet treat and giving yourself enough time to get ready. Perhaps it’s a bit worrisome that you spent a good chunk of time standing in front of your closet to pick an outfit for tonight, but you want to make a good first impression on Sunghoon without the ugly sweater or pajamas you wore when you invited him to Jake’s party. 
You settle with flattering jeans and a nice top with an oversized leather jacket and find yourself wondering what kind of lipstick you should put on. It feels silly to worry about these things for a person who likely wouldn’t notice that type of effort, so you settle with something that compliments your skin tone but isn’t too over the top for a casual hang out. It’s just before 5:30 when you hear your doorbell ring and your heart rate perks up at the thought of Sunghoon waiting for you. 
“Hey,” you say to Sunghoon pathetically.. Sunghoon’s wearing a light grey quarter zip sweater with a few buttons hanging loose and black trousers. You avoid gawking at him from the threshold of your doorway, but it’s hard not to. 
“Long time no see,” he jokes. “Are you ready to head to the party?” His questions bring your eyes back to his face and you smile at him awkwardly. 
“Can you hold this for a second?” You hand Sunghoon the bag with Jake’s ugly sweater. “Let me get the brownies.” You barely register that Sunghoon’s holding a bag of his own until you walk back with the dessert, successfully locking your door without dropping your keys. “What's in the bag?” 
Sunghoon looks at you sheepishly. “I went out and bought some wine because I’d feel bad taking credit for your brownies when I didn’t help make them. There’s some soju in there too because I started to overthink and wondered if any of your friends drank wine.” 
You beam at Sunghoon. How thoughtful of him. “Wine and soju are perfect. The guys will probably drink that up before you get the chance to introduce yourself and I’ll happily drink the wine. My friend Jay might, too.” 
“I’m excited to meet your friends,” Sunghoon says as the two of you walk side by side towards the elevator. He presses the button and lets you walk inside the contraption first. “It’s been a while since I got the chance to meet new people.”
“If they make you uncomfortable or anything, let me know and we can leave.” 
Sunghoon laughs. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. If you like them, then so do I.”
“That doesn’t seem very introverted of you.” He smiles at you and shrugs.
“I’m trying to get out of my shell.” Sunghoon lets you step out of the elevator and guides you to his car. “I keep to myself most of the time but I have my moments. It’s easy to get lost in a city as busy as Seoul but sometimes it gets a bit lonely.” 
He unlocks the door and puts the sweater in the backseat, along with the brownie tray on the floor for extra stability. You watch him open the passenger door for you and smile as you climb inside. Even the interior of his car is orderly and pristine. Sunghoon has you typing in Jake’s address before the two of you hit the road. 
Sunghoon drives like an expert, weaving between lanes without causing collisions or disturbance to the traffic. He uses his turn signals, which you appreciate, and doesn’t get too angry when people cut him off unnecessarily. He looks a bit too good from where you’re sitting with his jawline looking sharper than the edge of a knife with the glow from headlights shining across his face. It’s a bit unfair how beautiful Sunghoon looks from where you are and you’re having a hard time believing someone as handsome as him is talking to someone as awkward as you. 
“Are you from Seoul?” you ask him in the midst of the silence. His music hums in the background and pairs well with the smooth sound of his car’s engine. 
“No, I’m not.” Sunghoon spares you a glance. “I’m from a small suburb just outside of Busan.”
“Do you miss it?” His smile falters and you almost regret asking.
“Sometimes, but I think I’ve found my footing here. I love the city life and I like that everything is so different and loud. There are a million ways to live your life and nobody expects you to follow a certain path.” 
“Yeah, I agree with that. I’m from a small fishing town a few hours away from here where everyone comes from a long line of farmers and fisherman. It’s hard to carry that burden and expectation when fishing is the last thing you want to do with your life.” 
“People have a crazy way of making you feel indebted, don’t you think?”
You nod. “Agreed. Sometimes I feel guilty for enjoying my time in Seoul. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do, theoretically. Everyone back home used to tell me about the amount of bills I’d have to pay and how dangerous big cities are, but I’ve found a home here that I never felt back in my neighborhood. It’s like nobody knows who I am and I find comfort in that.” 
“I feel the same way. I can be whoever I want to be without people telling me it’s wrong. I don’t have to live my life by another person’s expectation and there are so many different things I could be doing with myself. How long have you been in Seoul? Have you visited your hometown at all?” 
“I’ve been here for eight years, if we count my university days, but I’ve been living here full time for four years. I went back home for a few months after graduating before getting the job I have now.” You play with your fingers as you speak, the feeling of guilt bubbling to the surface. “As for going home, well, I’ve been back but it’s hard to find the time with my job.”
“I understand that. I haven’t been home in a while either. I don’t really want to go back either.” You want to ask him why but don’t. 
“Does your younger sister still live there?” 
“She’s still back home and lives with our parents while he’s finishing up university in Busan, actually.” 
“Oh, that’s cool! It’s nice of your parents to let her stay at home while she studies.” Sunghoon smiles in a way you can’t decipher. 
“Yeah, really nice.” 
Sunghoon parks right in front of Jake’s apartment just when you’re starting to regret bringing up his family. You risk looking over at him and an apology sits on your tongue because it seems like a sore subject for him based on the short response, but Sunghoon exits the car and grabs the alcohol and the bag that contains the ugly sweater. You carry the brownies and feel a bit self conscious when you feel him walking behind you. Your shoes feel heavy around your feet and despite having been over to Jake’s apartment more times than you can count on both hands, you second guess every step you take on the way to his front door. 
“Thanks for bringing me here,” Sunghoon tells you after a beat of silence as you approach Jake's front door. You want to say something, but the door opening interferes with your thoughts. 
“Hey, you made it!” Jake ushers the two of you inside and by force of habit, you take off your shoes and out on the designated slippers you purposely left here when he first moved in. “Did you bring the sweater?” 
“The fact that you want to keep that ugly thing concerns me.” Heeseung gives you a hug and grabs the brownies from your hands as you struggle to take your coat off. “I’ll put this in the kitchen.” 
“Sunghoon has the sweater.” When you’re settled, you grab the paper bag and hand it to Jake. The warmth of his apartment feels comforting until you remember that your neighbor is a complete stranger in a new environment. You turn around to see him balancing awkwardly with a bag of alcohol behind his back. “Everyone, this is Sunghoon. Sunghoon, this is…everyone.” 
“Hey,” he says awkwardly, bringing his hand up to wave at your friends who’ve all gathered around to see the newcomer. Heeseung comes back after he’s put the dessert in the kitchen. The bottles in Sunghoon’s hands ring against one another, which makes Jake’s ears perk up. 
“Did you bring something?” 
“Wine and soju. She told me not to bring anything but I didn’t want to show up empty handed.” 
“I told him we could bring brownies together.” Jake makes a face at you and grabs the bag of alcohol from Sunghoon’s hands, pulling him further into the apartment. 
“Thank you, Sunghoon.” He turns back to you. “The thought that you could’ve deprived us of alcohol is insane, actually.” 
You purse your lips and fold your arms in front of your chest. “He could’ve brought everyone ear muffs, for all you know. What are you gonna do with them if your big ass ears can barely handle your headphones?” 
“Ignore them,” Heeseung says to Sunghoon as he approaches the two of you. “They fight like siblings. I’m Heeseung.” 
Sunghoon laughs. “I’m starting to think you guys are either really close or secretly hate each other.” 
“I hate Jake and love everybody else.” Jake bumps your hip and smiles at you, and you find that you can’t keep up that faux attitude for very long. He pulls you into a hug before properly introducing himself to Sunghoon and walks to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine and store the rest in his refrigerator. 
“Do you want a drink or some food? We have a little pot luck going on.”
“I could use a drink.”
Heeseung beckons Sunghoon towards the kitchen while Jay steps beside you, and your neighbor turns back to look at you before disappearing around the corner. “See? It’s not so scary once you take the first step.” 
“Your face was chiseled by God. You of all people don’t have to worry about rejection.”
Jay laughs at that. “Still, though. You’ve been talking about Sunghoon for so long that I was getting worried he might’ve been a figment of your imagination.” 
“I might be delusional, but I’m not crazy.”
“We all have our ways to cope.” You bump your shoulder with his. “You should know we’re all rooting for you and Sunghoon.” 
“Oh my God, it’s not like I pictured myself marrying him!” You whisper-yell loud enough for him to hear through gritted teeth and smack his bicep. “I just think he’s cute. The thought of being rejected by him scares the shit out of me.”
“He’s just a guy?” 
“A beautiful, charming guy.”
“Again, just a guy.” 
It’s his turn to make you laugh. “You always keep me grounded, Jongseong.” 
“Who else will? But anyway, you should also know that Jake decided to host this housewarming party because Heeseung told us you ran into him on your way to work.” 
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or weirded out by that.” 
“It’s Jake we’re talking about. He has his ways of showing it, but he’s a sentimental guy.” 
“I guess I should thank him if tonight goes well.”
“Don’t stress about anything too much.” Jay starts to walk towards the kitchen and beckons for you to follow him. “Let’s get you a drink.”
You spot Sunghoon first, who leans against Jake’s counter while he looks at all of the food your friends brought (Chick-Fil-A catering, because he’s been craving it and Heeseung offered to pay for half of it). There’s an impressive selection of alcohol beside the large platter of breaded chicken, and macaroni and cheese that smells like it’s just been pulled out of the oven. Sunghoon seems entertained enough with Jake fixing him a plate and opening a bottle of beer for him. You stand beside Jay and feel a bit silly worrying over whether or not your guest feels comfortable with your group of friends, but he seems to be doing okay because he isn’t searching for you. 
“How do you guys know each other?” 
“This one spilled coffee on me when we first met.” Heeseung laughs at the memory and the tips of his ears turn a deep shade of red. He’s talkative when he has enough alcohol in his system and the nostalgia makes you curl into yourself as Jay hands you a bottle of beer. Everyone looks at you when Heeseung points in your direction. 
“She’s really fucking clumsy.”
“Thanks for the commentary, Jake,” you say sarcastically. 
“We work together at a marketing agency and started around the same time,” Heeseung explains further. “She just moved to the city and we clicked on our first day.” 
“I met the other two through Heeseung, actually.” Sunghoon looks between Jay and Jake when you gesture, who each seem like they’ve also started drinking before you arrived. 
“We’re friends from college and we all decided to stay around the area after graduating.” Jay pours himself a glass of wine and you can see Sunghoon beginning to perk up when he notices. You find that kind of cute. 
“Heeseung’s the reason we’re all friends.” Jake pats his friend on the back. “It’s funny though because we actually all met her at his housewarming all those years ago too.” 
“Huh,” says Sunghoon. “What a coincidence. Sounds like you guys have a thing for housewarming parties.” 
“I’ll take up any excuse to host. It’s how we get her to come out of her shell.” Your cheeks warm up but you aren’t sure if it’s because of the alcohol or because everyone’s looking at you again. 
“She’s a bit of an introvert, but she’s really fun when you get to know her. Sorta like a diamond in the rough type of thing.” 
“Okay, wow! We don’t have to talk about me.” 
Jake points at a grocery store receipt on his refrigerator and grins. “This is the first time she bought groceries for me when I moved in a few months ago. She’s a bit sentimental and put this on when she came over for the first time. It’s nice, though.” 
“Oh my god,” you mutter. Sunghoon smiles at you and those fairytale-like butterflies in the pit of your stomach feel like they’re flying in a metal cage. 
“I like that you’re sentimental. You’re a little like me. I decided to come to this party because somebody else gave me the choice to be social.” 
“Yeah.” You’re a bit breathless and you’re sure Jay’s grinning beside you. “I get a bit intimidated when I do something different or meet new people.”
“Who doesn’t?” You suppose he’s right. 
“She’s incredible with gifts, too. Last year, she got me a signed guitar by my favorite musician because they worked on a campaign together.” Jay takes out his phone to show Sunghoon a photo of the autographed instrument. 
“So thoughtful,” Sunghoon says absentmindedly. It throws your heart in a loop.
“There is so much more to talk about beyond me,” you say, embarrassed that your friends are doting on you in front of Sunghoon. The attention is a bit too much and you grab another beer on your way out of the kitchen, choosing not to look back at the four boys who all laugh at your exit. 
The entire night goes smoother than you could’ve ever hoped for. Your friends leave the weird, overbearing protectiveness in the kitchen when you walk out of it and talk to Sunghoon like he’s their friend too. It still makes you a bit shy when they actively support you in this crush because you aren’t used to this level of care and trust in people. Affection makes you a bit uncomfortable and you wish it didn’t.
Sunghoon seems like he’s enjoying himself as well. You can tell he’s a little buzzed but stopped drinking halfway through the night to sober up by the time he has to drive. Even in your inebriated state, you appreciate his sense of responsibility. He’s rolled the sleeves of his quarter zip up and you try your best not to drool over his toned arms every time he moves his hands when he talks. Sunghoon looks so effortlessly cool when with your friends and it’s almost as if he’s known the three of them for as long as you’ve known them to the point where you’re questioning if he’s truly an introvert or not. 
It’s this level of comfort that keeps you in Seoul. Surrounding yourself with people who support you unconditionally feels like a reward after spending your childhood wishing for the friends you have now. It feels like everybody has a place in your life because you’ve done the work to keep people who love you for who you are rather than somebody they assume you to be. It’s nice to let go of the high walls you’ve built around yourself for protection. 
Eventually, half of the alcohol is gone and so has all of the food. Jake’s had a bit of influence over your drunken state because as he puts it, he’s the host and needs to make sure everybody is having a good time. You’re not one to blame him though, since you’ve been accepting every shot and drink he’s put in your hand. Jay’s the one who prevents Jake from giving you anything more when he sees the way you’re swaying in your spot on the floor where all of you have formed a circle. 
Jake returns from the kitchen after throwing away empty bottles. “Damn, so all of us are staying here for the holidays?”
“I haven’t decided if I’m staying or not, if that counts for anything. My parents are going to be in London but there’s a month and a half until Christmas, so I have some time to decide.” 
“Sunghoon, you’ve got to be crazy rich if you can afford to fly to Europe at the last minute.” You’re about to scold your friend but Sunghoon just laughs. 
“I suppose I’m a bit privileged like that. I’ve spent every holiday season back home and wanted to try something different this year.”
“What does Christmas in your hometown look like?” 
“Really cold. Almost as cold as Seoul when the snow begins to fall. We take Christmas seriously since we’re primarily known as a holiday destination for people who like that kind of stuff. A lot of our publicity revolves around the holidays, so my city is a little bit like a winter wonderland. At least, that’s what they want you to believe.” 
“Sounds like the perfect place for you,” Heeseung says as he nods over at you. 
“Why’s that?” 
“She loves Christmas. She can’t get enough of it and does everything holiday-related as soon as summer ends.” 
“Do you like Christmas that much?” Sunghoon asks you with apprehension in his tone.
“You don’t?” 
Sunghoon shrugs at your small outburst. “Our whole thing is about Christmas and holiday festivities. It gets a little old when you’re surrounded by it all the time” 
“Sounds like a dream.” He smiles at you. 
“I’m sure you’d like it there. My parents love the holidays and go all out every year. It’s a bit corny but they’re wholesome people and I know they love their country as much as anyone else.”
“She always knows what’s going on around town if it has anything to do with the holidays,” Jake tells him. 
“Oh, really?”
“Did you know there’s gonna be a Christmas market right next to Yonsei? They’re gonna be selling a bunch of baked goods and decorative stuff. I heard their food trucks are really good.” 
Jay chimes in. “We should go next weekend.” Jake elbows his ribcage. “Actually, you two should go together.” 
“Us?” Sunghoon points between him and yourself. 
“Yeah, why not?” Jake shrugs like it’s the most obvious answer. “She’s a huge fan of the holidays and you’ve never experienced it here. Why not see what Christmas in Seoul looks like?” 
“I’m not big on those kinds of things.” Your heart plummets and you don’t really know why. You put a smile on your face anyway. 
“You don’t have to do anything, Sunghoon. I don’t mind doing these things alone and you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.” 
There is an indescribable look on Sunghoon’s face when you finish speaking and the living room is completely silent. He peeks at you through his long eyelashes and it feels as if he’s inspecting you from where he sits. Neither of your friends say anything either and you’re one second from awkwardly laughing when you realize nobody’s saying anything until Sunghoon speaks up again. 
“I’ll go with you.” 
“You really don’t have to.” 
He cocks his head to the side. “It sounds like you’re really excited about it. I might be tired of Christmas but maybe you can change my mind.” 
His words fly right over your head and Heeseung can see it in the way you beam at the mention of Sunghoon’s proposal. Even he hears the absurdity of it all when he looks at Sunghoon, who doesn’t spare anybody else a glance. You try to contain your excitement and keep smiling to a minimum, but you feel your cheeks harden anyway and Sunghoon smiles right back at you. 
“We could go tomorrow!” 
“You’ve had quite a bit to drink,” Heeseung reminds you. “Maybe next weekend?” 
“You, of all people, should know that I don’t get hangovers. I'm too excited just thinking about it.”
“We can go tomorrow if you’re not too tired. I can check in with you when I wake up. How does 10 AM sound?” 
You sigh, content. “Perfect.” 
When the conversation starts to die down naturally, everybody seems to be under the impression that it’s time to go. You say goodbye to your friends and thank Jake for hosting the party, choosing not to tell him what Jay had revealed to you earlier. Sunghoon seems like he had a great time because as you’re putting your shoes on, you see him exchanging numbers with everybody else. Sunghoon carries the empty tray that was once filled with dessert and tells Jake to keep the rest of the alcohol, no doubt solidifying him as someone he’d want to keep around. The drive back to your apartment feels too long for your liking and your body feels heavy when the two of you arrive at your respective doors. 
“Thanks for driving. I promise I don’t usually get this drunk.” You hiccup. “Well, okay, that’s a lie. I only get this drunk when I’m with this specific group of friends.” 
“It’s fine. It’s nice to let go every once in a while.” 
You look up at him. “Did you have fun?” 
“I did,” he says with a single, firm nod. “Your friends are really funny. I was kind of worried about it on the way here because I tend to be really quiet when I meet new people for the first time, but it felt like we knew each other already.” 
“They knew about you.”
“Did they?” 
“Mhm.” You hiccup again. “I told them about my new neighbor a while ago and thought you looked cool, but I’m a little awkward, you know? I don’t really know how to talk to people without someone else acting as a buffer.” 
“Could've fooled me. You did just fine.” 
“That’s because you saw me in Jake’s ugly fucking sweater.” You make a face at the memory, cheeks heating up at the look on Sunghoon’s face when his eyes roamed from the fabric to your face. “You called me ugly.” 
Sunghoon laughs. “I called the sweater ugly. Not you.” 
“You don’t think I’m ugly?” Your question catches Sunghoon off guard, but you’re already fishing for your apartment keys when he looks at you. 
“No, I don’t.” You don’t seem to be paying attention to him as you successfully jam your keys into the lock on the second try. He sees a peek inside when you open the door and watches you stumble inside before latching onto the doorknob to balance yourself. 
“Thanks for coming with me, Sunghoon. I’m really glad you had fun. I think my friends like you a lot.”
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah. They’re a little protective over me and like to make sure any guy I hang out with is cool. You know how it is.” Sunghoon holds the door open for you while you take your shoes off and throw your purse somewhere on your couch before turning around to look at him. 
“I mean it, though. Thanks for coming and dealing with me and my friends. We’re a little bit of a handful.” 
He smiles and shakes his head. “Not in the way you think. It’s nice that you have people in your life that you can be yourself around and it seems like they love you just as much as you love them.” 
“I really love my friends. But don’t tell them I said that.” Sunghoon pretends to zip his mouth shut. 
“Your secret's safe with me.” You look at him with an unreadable expression, but it gets replaced with a tired smile. 
“Sleep well, okay? My friends are your friends.” 
“You’re so generous,” he says with a laugh. You take a step forward but retract when the sober part of your brain reminds you that the two of you aren’t likely close enough to give each other a hug goodbye. 
“...Do you still want to come to the Christmas market with me tomorrow?” 
“I’ll give you one chance to convince me that the holidays are fun, but only if you wake up without a hangover.” He laughs when you give him a mock salute.
“I don’t get hangovers, remember?” You tap the side of your head with your pointer finger. Sunghoon smiles down at you before pulling his phone from the back of his pocket. 
“I should probably get your number too.” 
“Oh.” He hands it to you and your fingers suddenly feel numb. You manage to type your number and try to think of something cute and quirky to put as your contact, ultimately settling with your name followed by the ‘:)’ symbol. It’s casual but you think it makes you stand out from generic contact names, as Sunghoon seems like the kind of guy who keeps everything straight to business. 
“I’ll text you so you have my number too.” You pull out your phone when you see him typing. 
Unknown: It’s Sunghoon! :) 
You feel like a creep trying to bite back a smile.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Don’t push yourself if you wake up too tired but promise me you’ll try to get some sleep tonight.” 
“I promise. Goodnight, Sunghoon.”
***
You aren’t sure whether you’re pleased or not when you wake up at eight o’clock on the dot with no chance of falling back asleep in sight. You turn to see that your phone is fully charged and force yourself to  leave your warm, comfortable bed to prepare yourself for the day. You don’t respond to the text Sunghoon sent last night and don’t know if he’s going to keep up his end of the bargain and go with you to the Christmas market, but you decide to get ready in the event that he was serious about it. 
Your friends text you too, both in the group chat and separately. Heeseung, as always, is telling you not to overthink anything and enjoy spending time with your neighbor crush. He tries to be as encouraging as he can but can’t help slipping in a few jokes here and there about how fast you’re growing up (even though you’re only a few months younger than he is). Jay sends you words of encouragement too, but he keeps it straight to the point and tells you to buy him something that you think he’d like if you stumble across anything. Jake, on the other hand, makes far too many inappropriate jokes that you have no choice but to laugh. You feel something akin to a high school crush getting ready for a first date even though this isn’t technically a date. 
You’ve managed to pull yourself together and see that the time is half past nine when you check the clock. Sunghoon hasn’t texted you at all today so you take the liberty to let him know you’re awake and hope you don’t come off as pushy or overly eager. But he responds in kind and tells you he’s getting ready and will be knocking on your door soon. 
True to his word, Sunghoon stands at your doorstep when it’s 10 AM.
“You look so cozy,” he says. 
Never mind that you’re swearing something you deemed cute and casual that pairs well with the low temperature outside along with the snowfall from last night. Sunghoon steps out looking like a model himself with his tailored trousers, a graphic shirt, and a denim jean jacket. He looks like the epitome of every girl’s fantasy of the boy next door once again.
“You look really good.” You say it before you can catch yourself and he laughs. 
“You think so?” Your eyes snap up at him as you frantically close your door behind you and lock it.  
“Will you be warm enough in that?” 
“I’ll be fine, but I appreciate your concern.” You frown when he starts to lead you towards the elevator. 
“If you say so.” You see a small silver camera peeking out of his pockets. “What’s that?” 
He pulls it out for you to see. “It’s a Z155 film camera. I got it before moving to Seoul and wanted to learn how to photograph with this type of camera. Cool, right?” 
Your worries dissipate the more you walk through your neighborhood and onto the outdoor market you’ve had bookmarked for weeks. Perhaps it’s the warm coffee amidst the chilly winter that excited you, or the handmade decorations that seem far too inexpensive for what they’re worth, but your face lights up when you walk through the aisles. There are too many vendors for you to look at and the overwhelming feeling perks up in your chest when you see different people trying to attract customers. But you’d argue that’s one of your favorite parts; hearing people talk about why they love the holidays so much brings you a sense of joy and fulfillment you don’t feel elsewhere. Sunghoon is a good sport about it too despite being a bit apprehensive at first. He graciously paid for your coffee and breakfast consisting of a warm butter croissant. It melts on your tongue and you regret not buying a second one.
People always ask you why you love the holidays so much and you tell them it’s because there’s no greater joy than being surrounded by your loved ones into the new year. You’ve always been a fan of winter despite the sun setting earlier than it does in the summer. Doing winter-related things in the appropriate season makes you happy, especially if you manage to drag one of your friends along for the ride. You draw the line at caroling, though. That’s taking it a bit too far. 
But the real reason is that Christmastime and the beginning of snowfall always marks a vicious cycle of wishing you could be anywhere but the present. Your childhood was riddled with uncertainties and walking on eggshells around your family and friends, and your household often felt like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You were too afraid of making a mistake and chose to retreat within yourself, operating under the assumption that pleasing everybody else was how to protect yourself and your feelings. 
Prior to moving to Seoul, the start of the cold season was a reminder that your life wasn’t as picture perfect as you liked to imagine it was. No amount of television shows or fictitious scenarios running through your head before falling asleep would ever negate the neglect and absent feeling of joy in your heart as autumn turned into winter. You used to bide your time by hoping the months would roll past you until the springtime arrived. It always felt humiliating to hear your friends tell you about their vacations and all of the presents they received that year when the most your family could do was keep the lights on. That emptiness in the depths of your heart felt like it was void of feeling anything at all, and the holidays served as a reminder that things wouldn’t get better. 
It’s no surprise when Sunghoon turns to you as you both walk through the aisles of jewelry and artwork vendors when he asks you why you love Christmas so much. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to give the rehearsed spiel you reserve for people who don’t know you very well, and instead give him a half-truth.  
“This time of year is hard for some people and I used to feel like the world would stop spinning if I didn’t try to be at least a little happy when I moved to Seoul a few years ago. I was all alone for the first time in my entire life and barely knew anybody, and had to come up with my own way of cheering myself up since I spent it alone. I did a bunch of things by myself, like going to holiday markets or ice skating. I didn’t mind the solitude that much.” 
“Were you friends with Heeseung and the guys at that time?” 
“Barely. Heeseung and I were only coworkers back then but we sat across from each other every day to be friendly. But I didn’t know him as well as I do now and had a few roommates who went back home for a couple of weeks. It was pretty lonely and I hated feeling like I was stuck when I was the one who wanted to move to the big city.” 
“I think I understand. Christmas is a reminder of overcoming hardship for your first time living by yourself.” 
You nod, a bit relieved that he understands you a little bit. “Kind of, yeah. I didn’t grow up in the happiest household and wanted to do something good for myself since I left my hometown. It feels like a shame if I don’t at least try.” 
“I think that’s the most profound thing anybody has ever said to me.” 
“I sound like one of those generic books with corny quotes.” 
“Can’t be corny if it’s true.” 
You smile at him. “I’ve become a lot better about being positive and optimistic since getting to know the guys, too. Hanging out with them during my second year in Seoul made me realize I wasn’t as alone as I thought I was, and even when they all went home to visit their families, I didn’t feel like the world was collapsing around me when I was alone for a few days. It felt nice to trust people and realize that people cared about me the way I wanted them to.”
“They sound like really great friends.”
“They are. I don’t know what I’d do without them, if I’m being totally honest. I think my mom was worried about me for the first year of me living here because I barely talked about meeting anybody. She used to complain that I always talked about work and that I stayed in too much on the weekends. I used to think she was just berating me but I get it now.”
“Sounds like she wanted you to get out and have fun.” 
“Yeah. I guess my mom was trying to tell me to get a life without directly telling me. She loves it when I send her pictures of myself outside of my apartment and I fill her in on things I’ve been up to that don't have to do with my career. She’s proud of me in that sense but always reminds me that there’s more to life than my job.”
“You have a great mom, from what I can tell. She has your best interest at heart and I think it’s sweet of her to care about you so much. What about your dad? Do you talk to him at all?” 
You look to the ground. “No. He passed away four years ago.” 
“Oh.” Sunghoon nods silently and tucks his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry.” 
“There’s no need to be. It happened a long time ago.” 
Sunghoon nods from your peripheral vision. “Do you see your mom often? Does she visit you in Seoul?” 
You shake your head. “She works at a fish dock and can’t take a lot of time off.” 
“I see. Do you visit her, then?” 
You’re acutely aware of Sunghoon walking beside you but his footsteps fall deaf to your ears when you think about your mother and picture her throwing nets of fish into baskets to sell to merchants in the same afternoon. She wakes up hours before the sun rises to greet fishermen by the docks as soon as daylight breaks and leaves when the space is clean and the fish is sold. You picture her in rubber overalls and boots, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail with a mask covering the lower half of her face to avoid the scent of the fish even though she tells you she’s used to it by now. 
It was hard to deal with her waning hours in your childhood and you often yearned for her presence when you awoke to see no trace of her in your household. You had a knack for differentiating the difference in gait between her and your father, and hearing the heavier steps of his footsteps always made you disappointed. Feeling his presence outside of your bedroom door felt like it was a prison sentence.
In a town that seldom encourages any lifestyle aside from fishing and farming, you always find a bit of solace in creative writing clubs and the school musicals as a way to excuse yourself from the small town life. You’d picture yourself underneath a single spotlight, standing center stage where everybody in the audience regarded you as someone who’d make it far beyond the borders of the isolated town. You imagine them roaring in applause when you took your final bow with your mother sitting in the front row with a bouquet of flowers in her hands.
But life and finances were immediate priorities to keep the roof over your heads and the table full of food. The electricity bill was renewed solely by your mother’s efforts to keep the three of you afloat whereas your father could barely keep a job for longer than a few months before the inevitable discussion of his unemployment. You recall hearing hushed conversations that always escalated to loud arguments just outside of your bedroom door and shoved headphones into your ears to drown out the sound of an unhappy marriage. 
His absence was deafening and there were moments where you preferred a chaotic household over a quiet one. In the mere weeks that followed his death, life seemed to move on for your mother but not for you. She still woke up before dawn and never complained about the cold weather during the winter months or the heavy rainfalls in the summer. Whereas she endured life as if he hadn’t passed, you carried the weight of emotional neglect and dissonance of your relationship with him. 
The funeral was a month later and his cremated remains were spread along the larger lake nearby because he always said he would never choose to move away from water. The boat ride to the deepest part of the lake was uncomfortable and frustrating as your mother and two of his closest friends lamented over his passing, barely touching on the hardship he put your family through in his years being alive. It seemed like everyone was able to forgive him and move on as if every single person in his family went unscathed. Listening to them recite their happiest memories with him felt like a knife twisting in your heart until it stopped beating. 
Moving away was bittersweet, too. The neighborhood you grew up in never felt like a home to you but it would always be nostalgic. It was a plot of land with four walls and a roof, and yet the memories you’ve made haunt every corner of your street like a ghost that refuses to cross into the light. The grey walls look more dreary and dull than it had before and the large tree that grew on the lawn was cut down after years of neglect. Your old house looked brand new and unrecognizable. Everything had changed too quickly for your liking. Even when you packed your last box in the moving van, the emptiness of your bedroom felt like you were saying goodbye to a part of your life you’d never yearn for again. You’ve never looked back since. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up.” Sunghoon brings you out of your temporary stupor. 
“It’s alright. I didn’t mean to get lost in my thoughts.” 
He gently knocks his shoulder into yours. “Do you want to talk about it?” 
“I don’t think talking about even more depressing things is gonna put you in the holiday spirit.” 
“Keeping them to yourself just to make other people comfortable won’t put you in the holiday spirit either.” You know he’s right and begin to gnaw at your inner cheek. 
“I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable.” 
“The nice thing about having friends is that you can say whatever you want and they won't judge you.” Sunghoon smiles at you like he means it. His eyes twinkle underneath the sun and, even if for a moment, you feel like he’s right. 
“My mom and I are close, even if we don’t talk every single day. She works at a fishing dock and that takes up most of her time, and I work at one of the busiest marketing agencies in Korea, which eats up my week. We find the time to talk to each other and I tell her almost everything. I don’t think there’s a secret of mine she doesn’t know. 
“But even so, I love her too much to ever tell her how I’m barely handling everything. It's like I’ve been running into a brick wall every time I try to walk away from grieving. It’s always been the two of us even when he was alive. She raised me the best she could because he was always physically there, but never emotionally present for either of us. His passing left so many questions unanswered and unresolved feelings but it seems like she’s moved on from it.” 
“I’m sorry to hear that.” 
“It was a long time ago. My dad and I were never that close. There were a few good memories that I think about from time to time, but sometimes they’re ruined by all of the bad things I think about when I think about him. It’s an endless cycle of self sabotaging and I can’t stop myself from doing it. My mom wants me to visit her for a weekend during the holidays and she keeps asking me when I want to come home, but I keep pushing it off because I can’t bring myself to go back to a place that made me unhappy.” 
Sunghoon remains quiet beside you. When you take a peek at him, he looks as if he’s deep in thought as he looks ahead at the environment and watches the children play on the nearby playground. His eyebrows are furrowed only slightly and his mouth forms a downward pout, and you’re left wondering what he's thinking about. 
Finally, he speaks. “Do you feel guilty for putting it off?” 
“Yeah, I do.” 
“It’s almost like you know it's the right thing to do but you can’t bring yourself to do it. People teach you that family is everything, but when they force you to act and feel a certain way, it’s like you’re suffocating.”
“It’s like you took the words right out of my mouth. I keep telling her I’d think about it but I always feel guilty because it’s just an excuse to put off making a decision. I’d feel guilty if I don’t go, but I can’t bring myself to make that trip, even if she’s just a few hours away.” 
“My parents are a bit similar. They’ve given me more than I could ever ask for, and yet I still feel selfish for wanting to explore myself without them right behind me.” 
“I feel like an awful daughter every time I don’t agree to go home. I know she can tell I feel hesitant about it. I don't want to make her worry and I wish this feeling would go away. I can’t face my fears yet.” 
“Pardon if this is a difficult question for you, but…Is your father the main reason why you don’t want to go back?” 
“Yes.” You answer him meekly, as if telling the truth above a whisper will send you straight to purgatory. “I can’t walk in my neighborhood without hearing the sound of his voice when he yelled at me. Being in my house makes me think of all the times he’d threaten to throw me onto the streets for something as stupid as forgetting to wash the dishes. That place is a carousel of bad memories that I never want to think about ever again.”
“I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s normal for me now but it doesn’t make me feel any better if I try to frame it as ordinary. It doesn’t hurt me on most days. I push him out of my mind and focus on the present but the holidays are when I start to think about him and my childhood the most. I’ve never had a peaceful winter. There was always something going on and either Christmas or New Year’s was always ruined.”
“Is that why you love the holidays so much? To override your bad memories and create new ones?” 
“Yes. I never want to feel the way that I did before he passed away and having my friends here with me makes me forget about how sad I get when October rolls around. The weather gets colder but I try to do everything I can to think about how much I have to look forward to now that I’ve got so much time to do whatever I want. I learned that I can’t rely on somebody else to make me feel like I have something to live for.” 
“That’s admirable of you and I hope you know that.” 
“I don’t know if I’d put it that way.”
Sunghoon shakes his head. “It is, though. It sounds like you had a rough childhood and your mom was spread thin with her job that it left you with someone who couldn’t take care of you. I can hear it in the way you talk. You’ve got this determination inside of you whether you realize it or not.”
“Sometimes I feel like it’s all for nothing. I wake up and live my life but it doesn't feel like I’m getting better.”
“You have your whole life ahead of you to understand the grieving process and work through that. You’ll never know if you don’t stick around to find out, will you?” 
“No, I suppose not.” 
“My parents put a lot of pressure on me to perform well in everything. Bad grades weren’t acceptable and I juggled a few different sports to fill my free time. It always felt like they set me on a path that I needed to follow instead of allowing me to figure out myself on my own. I know they meant well and I know they loved me, but sometimes I wonder if they’d love me knowing that I want something different than their future for me. 
“How do you handle it?” 
“I don’t.” Sunghoon shrugs nonchalantly and the hard snow underneath his foot crunches loudly as you near the end of the aisleway. “I keep putting it off like you do. I’m here in Seoul because they agreed to let me explore the city for a while until it’s time for me to return and discuss the future they want for me.” 
“What do they expect you to do?”
Sunghoon purses his lips. “They want me to take over the family business. My father is adamant that I come home and take it seriously because he’s planning on retiring soon and trusts me to be the person who handles everything. They run a local grocery market chain and love that lifestyle but it’s not for me. I want to be here in Seoul and figure out what my life is supposed to look like without them holding onto the dream that I’ll run the company. They’ve made good money off of it and found success as they’re starting to expand, but I don't want to have any part in it.
“I majored in business and operations when I was in university but hated every second of it. I always felt like I was grinding myself to the bones but I did it to make them happy. I never felt like I got the chance to do anything I wanted to do until they agreed to let me move here.” 
“You don’t seem like the kind of guy who’d run a grocery store chain.”
Sunghoon beams at that. “I don’t think so either. I like to think of myself as pretty creative but I don’t know what to do with that. I didn’t take any photography classes in college and I feel like my time is running up.” 
“The beauty of time is that there’s so much of it. You can do anything you want, whenever you want.” 
“Thanks. I’ve been taking a few photography classes here and there.” He pulls out the camera from his pocket and lets you look at it. “Lately, this is how I’ve been getting my creative fix. It feels good to do anything other than learning about how grocery stores operate. I couldn’t care less about that and I feel like myself when I’m behind the camera.” 
“I like that you’re so passionate about photography, Sunghoon. I can hear how much you love it by how you’re talking about it. It’s nice to hear people talk about their hobbies.” 
“He tries to hide a smile but fails, and instead turns the camera on and holds it above his eye. “Can I take a picture of you?” 
“Me?” 
He pulls it away and grins. “Yes, you. Who else would I be talking to?” You stand beside a large collection of snowglobes and pick one up as Sunghoon points the camera at you again. 
“You could’ve been talking to this snowglobe for all I know.” 
“Too bad. I want to take a photo of you. Smile for me.” 
Reluctantly, you do and see the flash go off before putting the snowglobe down and apologizing to the vendor, who doesn’t seem to be displeased with what transpired in front of her. Sunghoon thanks her too with a short bow before turning his camera off and tucking it back inside of his pocket. 
“The fun of film photography is seeing the pictures when they develop. As much as I love learning about lighting and composition, I like it when I don’t think too hard about the photos I take and seeing which ones come out good and which ones don't. It’s always a gamble but it's a safe bet.”
“You’re lucky. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.” 
He cocks his head. “Maybe not in the way you think you do. Your friends were talking my ear off about how cool you are when it comes to your work. Heeseung told me you’re considering applying for a promotion because of your recent campaigns.” 
You blush and look away from him. “It’s nothing. I don’t think that’s really creative.” 
“You’re amazing, even if you don’t realize it. I think it’s cool that you work so closely with clients and help their vision come to life.” This feels like too kind of a thing for Sunghoon to say after having known you for such a short amount of time, but you can’t deny and say you don’t feel your heart fluttering with every compliment he gives you. 
Instead of responding by stuttering over your words, you drag Sunghoon through the remainder of the market and enjoy multiple warm cups of hot cocoa and try all of the desserts they have to offer. You end up buying a few things for your friends to add to their holiday gifts, even though they’ve been sitting in your bedroom for the past few weeks. Sunghoon reluctantly allows you to cover the lunch bill when you bring up how he bought every beverage and dessert the two of you have tried. He sees you signing the back of the receipt after writing today’s date.
“Why do you do that?” 
You hold the receipt up. “This?” 
“Yeah. Why do you sign it?” 
“I like keeping mementos of things. My fridge is covered in different letters, receipts, and artwork from friends and family. I have an entire box of receipts from important moments that I want to remember. I usually have the people I’m with sign them too and go through the receipts when I feel nostalgic.” 
“Do you think this moment is worth being nostalgic over?” You blush. 
“Yeah, I do.” 
Sunghoon blushes too. “I think that’s really cute, actually.” You slide the pen over to him. 
“Do you want to sign it?” His signature looks like that of a movie star. Even his penmanship is perfect. “There. Now you can look at this receipt when you miss me.” 
“Or I could just knock on your door until you let me in.”
“What says I’ll let you in?” 
“Because I’m the best neighbor you will ever have and even though you say you don’t like Christmas, you have to admit that you’re having fun.” 
Sunghoon smiles at that. “Yeah, you could definitely say that. I might have to come over to your apartment to see this receipt box of yours.” Sunghoon looks at you with a smile that makes you weak in the knees. It feels like you’re the subject of a reality TV show and you’re waiting for the camera crew to come out of their hiding spots and tell you this is all for show, but that never happens. 
“You know where I live,” you say to him coyly, backing away slowly as you throw your trash away. “Knock on my door any time.” 
Sunghoon laughs and you think you’d rather die than never hear it again.
***
You don’t get the chance to see Sunghoon during the week because of your work schedule but find yourself texting him whenever you get the chance. Your evenings are for catching up on TV shows that are halfway completed and messaging him even though he lives across the hallway. He hasn’t made an effort to come over to your apartment and neither have you, but you find yourself making plans with him to go ice skating with him during the following weekend and choose to look forward to that instead of letting your insecurities get the better of you. 
Heeseung asks you for updates and you can’t help but divulge into the whole truth, including every small thing Sunghoon did or said that made you overthink when he dropped you off at your apartment. He’s attentive and teases you every time you get a bit too shy to tell him how much fun you had with Sunghoon but tells you he’s proud that you’re putting yourself out there and making a new friend. Heeseung tells you that he and your other friends have been texting Sunghoon as well and discovered that they share a lot of common interests, and that they’ve got loose plans to see each other for drinks in the future. It warms your heart to know your friends like Sunghoon enough to include him in things, which makes you feel a little crazy considering he isn’t your boyfriend and you’ve officially known him for about three weeks. 
You find yourself standing on ice skates when the weekend approaches and you’re surprised to see that the outdoor rink is empty for a Saturday afternoon. You’re better than the average skater thanks to a childhood interest in figure skating and buying a ticket to the outdoor rink at least once every winter season. Sunghoon tells you he picked it up as a hobby when he was younger but his agility when he glides on the ice tells you he’s better than he claims. 
It’s chilly and your gloves protect your hands from the biting chill. Sunghoon’s alabaster skin looks like it’s glowing underneath the bright sun and his sunglasses make him look like the epitome of cool if you were to look it up in the dictionary. He keeps himself skating fairly close to you but you aren’t sure if that’s because he wants to be in your personal bubble or not. Either way, you sweat underneath your clothes and try to focus on balancing yourself on top of the hard ice. 
Sunghoon paid for your tickets and skate rentals too. He surprised you by signing his name and today’s date on the receipt for your safekeeping, telling you to keep it in your purse so it doesn’t get lost. He said it like it’s a matter-of-fact and not something only you do because you love being nostalgic about happy memories. Your hands shake as you lace up your skates and Sunghoon patiently waits for you to finish putting on the other shoe before taking up space on the ice. That feels warm.  
“I can’t help but like Christmas a little bit more when I’m on the ice.” Sunghoon takes his hands out of his pockets and runs his hand through his hair, and it makes you want to swoon. 
“Why’s that?” 
“Something about it feels like it should be done only in the wintertime. The Christmas music is helping me feel a little more festive anyway.” 
“There used to be a skating rink by my old middle school before it shut down a few years ago. I’d go with my friends as soon as December hit and learn how to skate because the owner saw me beg my parents to let me take lessons, but it was too expensive. She gave them a discount for my first few lessons.” 
“Did you stop skating?” 
“Yeah. They were able to pay for lessons as I advanced because of a bonus my mom received at work and she chose to spend it on me. My dad never cared that much but attended a few of my lessons here and there when my mom couldn’t drive me.”
“Did you compete?” 
“No, it was mostly for fun. I stopped because the financial burden was getting too much. Figure skating is the only thing I regret quitting.” 
“I stopped skating because it got in the way of my studies.” Sunghoon purses his lips. “I wasn’t aiming to go pro, or anything. It was a fun hobby I liked to do after school but my parents said it took up too much of my time because my grades weren’t straight A’s.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugs. “It’s not like I can’t skate anymore but sometimes it felt like I was being primed to take over their company and I could feel that when I was in high school. Ice skating was my way of trying to tell them that wasn’t the life I wanted, but I don’t think they got the message. I ended up quitting halfway into my sophomore year.”
“Do you miss being on the ice? 
“Sometimes. I competed at local competitions and thought about what my life would’ve looked like if I committed to a professional career, but I decided that wasn’t for me. I wanted to do something creative. Anything different than running a grocery chain.”
You bump Sunghoon’s hip. “Sounds like you’ve found your niche in photography.” 
“Ah, I hope so. I should show you some of the photos I have that aren’t on my wall.”
“Do you have a website or an Instagram for your pictures?” 
“No, but I probably should.” 
“You definitely should. I’ll even be your first follower and tell everyone to follow you.” 
Sunghoon smiles down at you. “How sweet of you.” 
“What happens next? You mentioned that your parents let you come to Seoul for a little while, but what happens after that?” 
His shoulders sulk. “Honestly? I don’t know. I moved into this apartment this past January and they said they’d give me a year to do whatever I want before I take over the business. I’m not so sure that I want to go back.” 
“Does that mean you have to move?” Sunghoon avoids looking at you. 
“Yeah.” 
“Oh.” The silence permeated for a moment. 
“I don’t want to leave, though.” Sunghoon clears his throat and shoves his hands back in his pockets. “I love Seoul and the freedom to do whatever I want. I work at a photography studio part time to pay for myself. I’m lucky that they agreed to pay my rent but that luck’s running out soon because they want me to come back. 
“It’s funny, though. My younger sister’s the one who wants to run this company because she’s studying business operations and loves it. She thrives in this environment and has always been interested in networking with people my parents know. I couldn’t care less about any of that. She has fun at his client parties but all I want to do is hide in a corner.”
“Why won’t they let her take over the business, then?” 
“My parents want to retire soon. They’ve been at it for so long and people are pressuring them to sell the business because everybody who knows them, knows they want out. My sister’s in her last year of university and isn’t ready to take over just yet. They say she needs more experience even though she’s interning with his division until she graduates.”
“So, what? If you take over, what’s she gonna do?” 
“Ideally, she’d be a co-owner the minute she feels ready to do it. But I think the plan for her is to become an assistant and then find another CEO role in another company. My parents don’t really understand that she and I want to switch places because they’re so focused on their retirement. We don’t know how to bargain with them and it’s become a sore point in our relationship.” 
“I’m really sorry, Sunghoon.” 
“My sister and I talk about this every time we see each other and I can tell she’s upset that they aren’t willing to wait out for her. She knows I don’t want this either, but sometimes it feels like she’s barely there whenever I’m with her.”
“It’s like knowing what you want is right in front of you but out of reach.” Sunghoon agrees in a noncommittal hum and you see him look in front of you at the other skaters. 
“I know how much she wants my position and I’d do anything to give it to her. I just need to convince my parents to wait a few years. I don’t mind helping out from time to time like I do now. But I don’t want to become CEO and work in that industry. I want to be a photographer and have my portraits hanging in museums and in people’s living rooms. Is that too much to ask for?” 
“No, it’s not. You’re so passionate when you talk about photography and it’s really endearing.” 
“You think so?” 
“Yeah, I do. It sounds like your sister is passionate about that CEO role as well. I hope the two of you are able to work things out.” 
Sunghoon sighs from beside you. “Me too. My lease is up in the new year and I’ll have to start packing if they don’t agree to wait a few more years until she’s ready. They’re afraid of bringing it outside help because they’d rather keep this in the immediate family.” The thought of knowing Sunghoon might no longer live across from you sends you into a temporary panic. You’ve just gotten to know him and it feels a bit unfair. “But I don’t want to move. I’m happy here.” 
“Are you?” 
He looks at you and smiles. “I am.” 
“I hope you’re able to stay,” you tell him, avoiding eye contact. “I think you’re fun to be around.” 
“Just fun?” Sunghoon teases, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Not charismatic and devastatingly handsome?” 
“No,” you lie, willing the cold air to cool down your warming cheeks. “I would never call you any of those things.” 
“Such a shame, Y/N. You have an incredibly hot neighbor who’s willing to do all of these Christmas things with you.” You smack his bicep. 
“You’re so annoying.” He laughs. 
“You’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.” 
***
The first time Sunghoon saw you was approximately a week after he moved into his apartment. You were wearing blue Bose headphones and looked so determined to unlock your door that Sunghoon chose to keep to himself and not bother you. He couldn’t help but notice the scowl on your face and how it made the perfect pout etch itself onto your lips. 
Ever since then, he’s seen you nearly every time he’s stepped out of his apartment and starts to wonder if this is fate telling him that he should make the first move and approach you because you’re friendly enough to nod at him when he passes you throughout the building. But he’s always been an introverted person who falters when it comes to meeting new people. Growing up around investors and adults who didn’t care about anything other than the economy didn’t do great for his confidence, especially since finance and business was the last thing he wanted to talk about. 
His sister was always more outgoing than he was. Sunghoon used to stutter when girls talked to him and couldn’t fathom the idea that anybody would be remotely interested in him enough to develop romantic feelings for him. It often felt like his personality mirrored everybody else’s for the fear of disappointing people to the point where Sunghoon had a hard time figuring out who he was when he wasn’t with his family or anybody who knew him as he grew up. 
Leaving his home to live in Seoul was something akin to a breath of fresh air. He loved his university days because it was the first and only time that Sunghoon could be himself without being afraid of what others would think of him. He experienced many ‘firsts’ while he was away from home–first college party, hangovers, and having sex for the first time. His first girlfriend made him realize he wanted more to live than to live the predestined plan that his parents set out for him. He didn’t want to marry someone into his family only for him to become a shell of a human being if he took on a job he didn’t want to do. When his girlfriend encouraged him to follow in his father’s footsteps because of how wealthy and successful he could be, Sunghoon broke it off with her and never looked back. 
Working for his parents was supposed to be a trial run. For the first three years after he graduated, Sunghoon agreed to come back and work at the company as an entry level assistant and work his way to the top. The weight of their expectations hung over his shoulders every time he stepped foot inside of the tall, intimidating building, and the anxiety he felt never really left him. Sunghoon worked himself to the bone every single day and continued dreaming of a life that was anything but his reality until his parents came to him with the proposition of slowly transitioning into an executive role. Suddenly, it felt like Sunghoon was running out of time and he proposed a year off before he would begin that process. 
Now, Sunghoon finds himself walking into your apartment with these lingering thoughts at the forefront because his parents are indirectly pressuring him to move back home. He ignores their calls and voicemails to the best of his ability. Spending time with you and your friends is a welcomed distraction because he doesn’t have to think about his future. The four of you give him space to be whoever he wants to be, and that isn’t something he’s felt in a very long time. 
“Your apartment looks like the inside of your brain,” Sunghoon tells you as he looks at your colorful furniture and the artwork decorating your walls. He lingers by the gargantuan posters of different cocktails framed neatly and the bar cart you keep by the kitchen in case you feel like having a drink or two on the weekend. “It’s so…you. 
“I worked really hard to make it that way. My Pinterest boards can tell you that much.” 
“I like that you’ve incorporated dark green. It’s pretty.” 
“Dark green is my favorite color. I’ve always wanted a space that felt like a home rather than a place I live in. I bought this green velvet couch when I got promoted the first time.” 
Sunghoon caresses the back of the couch. “Soft. I like it.”
“Do you want a drink, or anything?” 
“Are you gonna make me something festive?”
“I subjected you to ice skating and Christmas music that seemed to have four songs on shuffle the entire time. I think I’ll spare you tonight.”
“I’d like to try something new, if you’re up for it.” You light up and Sunghoon thinks he wants to make you look like that more often. He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you wash your hand and bring out every ingredient before turning to face him. 
“Have you ever heard of a hot toddy?” 
“Can’t say that I have. What is it?” 
“It’s an alcoholic drink I used to make with my friends from college when it starts to get cold. It’s whiskey, honey, and lemon dissolved in hot water.” 
“I don’t see how that’s festive,” he teases. 
“Trust the process, Park Sunghoon. First, boil water in a kettle.” 
Sunghoon watches you assemble the drink that is a bit too complicated for him but appreciated the effort you put into it. You tell him about your friends from college and how some of them have moved far away while others are people you see every once in a while. He hears about how you became a crowd pleaser during one particularly cold December night the day before finals and ended up making dozens of hot toddy’s for the people who lived on your dorm floor. You show him a picture of the makeshift tip jar your roommate made you to collect tips from students who wanted to pay you for the drink and went home with enough money to make you forget about finals. 
You tell him that your friends love this drink too, even if they downplay just how much. You hand him your phone and let him scroll through pictures you took of Heeseung and Jake the last time you made the drinks for everybody. They were hanging off of each other after begging you to add in a shot more than necessary every time you made a new cup. Jay helped you set a makeshift bed on the couch and floor for them to sleep off the alcohol and Sunghoon laughs at their less than flattering faces when you smile with two thumbs up as they pass out from the alcohol. 
Sunghoon has deduced that being here feels comfortable. It’s crazy to him that the four of you managed to weasel your way into his life as quickly as you did. He finds himself playing video games with the guys when they come home from work and they add him into their group chat within a few days of knowing him. Sunghoon’s always had a difficult time keeping friends around because he feels too awkward to socialize and feels like he never learned how to make friends around his age because of the environment he grew up in. He takes a picture of you on his camera despite your protests when he feels like words are too much.
Getting to know you has felt like the climax of a romance film. He’s spent so much time pining after you from afar, from thinking about what your favorite foods might be to what kind of music you listened to. You always looked so polished and head strong, something Sunghoon wished he could be. He’d lie to himself and say he’s attracted to you because you give off a sense of self-confidence that he’s never seen in anybody else, which is partially true, but spending time with you has only made him fall for you even harder. 
He’s only known you for a few weeks but it’s felt like he’s known you for a lifetime. Sunghoon tells you things he’s too afraid to tell other people or admit out loud. You bring out a side of him that wants to make a life for himself instead of listening to people who don’t have his best interests in mind. He loves it when you share your interest in Christmas and winter with him because it feels like he gets to know you better and it takes his mind off of his future. Plus, it helps that you look too cute when you start to get excited about things. Sunghoon can’t bear to be the reason why you would ever cease to feel like that. 
The more the two of you sip on the warm alcoholic cocktail, the more Sunghoon feels his shoulders start to relax. Whether it’s because he hasn’t eaten anything in a while or because you’re giving him butterflies, he doesn’t know. He hasn’t told anybody about you because he doesn’t know who he’d tell and he can’t believe he’s standing in your apartment making conversation with you. You laugh at his jokes and give him a tour of your place as he sips on his drink, and the warmth spreads throughout his chest. Suddenly his sweater feels too hot. 
You let him inside of your bedroom and it’s neat, with keepsakes lining your shelves and books on your walls. You’ve got a few floating bookshelves he admires and gawks at because he thinks it makes your room look that much cooler. You’ve got a few pictures of yourself, friends, and family along your desk and a makeup vanity with an impressive mirror on it. Everything in your room feels like it has a place and a reason to be there and Sunghoon can’t help but feel privileged that you’re letting him inside, like he’s supposed to be there too. 
“Is this your box of receipts?” he asks when he sees a small box without a lid on it. There are dozens of receipts haphazardly lying in there and he takes one out when you nod at him. There’s a receipt for a late night doughnut run, a printed copy of the receipt from the couch in your living room, and your first trip to the doctor. He digs to see if he can find the one from the market. “Where’s the receipt from when we went to the market?” 
You point at the board above your desk filled with pictures and other receipts too. Sunghoon looks at it and spots your handwriting and his next to a picture of you as a child. It makes his heart melt a little bit. 
“I like to keep really good memories up here.” 
Sunghoon feels like he could cry. “I’m really happy you had a fun time. I did too, but I didn’t want to come off as weird and tell you that.” 
“I don’t think it’s weird at all. If anything, I didn’t want to come off as too eager to hang out with you when we got back home.”
“Is this a good time for me to confess that I wanted to hang out with you instead of parting ways?” You look away from him to hide your smile and he can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat. 
“Now you’re just buttering me up,” you say in lieu of an answer. You stand impossibly close to him while he looks at the pictures on the board. 
“You were such a cute kid.” 
“I was cuter when I wore pigtails and when I was missing my two front teeth, that’s for sure.” 
“I think you’re doing fine just now.” 
You blush again. “Okay, you’re definitely trying to make me flustered.” 
“Is it working?” Sunghoon grins when you hide your face in his arm. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 
“Anyway!” You pull yourself off of him and close the receipt box while he laughs behind you. “That’s enough of that.”
“It’s getting late and I think you put too much whiskey in this.” Sunghoon looks at you with another teasing grin but he’s starting to like catching you off guard like this. 
“I’m not listening to anything you say because you said it was just enough.” Even your faux pout is cute. “Thanks for going ice skating with me.”
“Thanks for making this for me.” He holds up his empty cup and you lead him to the kitchen. He offers to wash your dishes for you but you decline and forcibly lead him to the front door when he starts to protest. The exhaustion from today has started to tire him out and his eyes begin to droop when he steps outside. 
“Goodnight, Sunghoon. Thank you for today.” You look up at him with an expression he can’t read. 
“I had a lot of fun. I mean it. You might change my mind about Christmas after all.” 
“There’s nothing I can’t do, Hoonie.” He blushes at the nickname. “Text me when you’re home, okay?”
He snorts. “Sure thing. I’ll be sure to text you in five seconds after I lock my door.” 
“Good. Who knows? This is a big hallway. Maybe you’d drip and fall a few steps into your journey.” Sunghoon thinks you’re too cute when you’re coy like this. 
“I’ll even text you when I’m tucked in bed so you know I made it safely.” 
The last thing he expects you to do is kiss his cheek. He feels your lips on his skin and his entire body becomes frigid, like he suddenly forgot how to breathe. Sunghoon thinks he might trip on his way back to his apartment at this rate. 
“Goodnight, Hoonie. Text me when you’re home.”
***
You don’t get the chance to spend any time with Sunghoon for the next couple of weeks because your work leaves you too tired to do anything outside of your apartment since it requires a few hours during your weekends. Sunghoon seems to understand and doesn’t push you to go out with him too much. Part of you wants to invite him over to your place for something casual, but your tendency to overthink prevents you from putting that offer on the table. 
Heeseung can tell you’re overwhelmed when he sees you. You hide yourself away in the confines of your office and don’t make conversation with him like you typically would. The start of the holidays mark a tumultuous time for you and he knows that better than anybody else. He can’t help but be a little concerned when you don’t join him for lunch like you typically do if meetings don’t interfere. When he sees you eating at your desk with a pathetic looking sandwich with a single bite taken out of it, he walks into your office without knocking and replaces his lunch with yours. 
“Don’t even think about scolding me for coming here unannounced.” Heeseung gestures at your desk. “Eat.” 
“You don’t deserve to eat a poorly made sandwich.” 
“Oh, and you do?” 
You groan. “No. But I was in a rush and forgot to pack a lunch last night.” 
“What’s going on? I’ve never seen you like this.” 
“My mom keeps asking me if I’m going to come home and I feel so guilty that I keep dodging it. I know she means well, but that’s what makes it worse. She keeps telling me she wants to have one weekend with me for Christmas, even if it isn’t on the actual holiday because she hasn’t seen me in a while. 
“I feel like I’m disappointing her, you know? It’s hard to leave the bubble I’ve created for myself because I know I have to face all of the bullshit I faced with my dad when I go back. It feels like I become the teenage version of myself who couldn’t express her feelings and kept everything bottled up inside. I want to forget all of that. I don’t want to be that kind of person anymore.” 
“Do you want to go?” 
“I do, but I can’t bring myself to actually buy a train ticket. I want to go home and not feel this contempt but I can’t help it. I hate it there. I hate walking through the hallways because I can hear his footsteps and the way he used to yell at me when I did something wrong. I can’t escape these feelings when winter starts. I mean, you know me. The holidays only became what it is because I try not to think about how fucking awful it used to be.” 
“You can’t run from everything forever, though.” Heeseung looks at you like he’s trying to drill his words into your head. “You’ve already done the work to push past it.”
“I know, but it’s hard to be in a place that feels like an empty home. I’m so nostalgic for everything I loved as a kid but it gets tainted when I think about my dad and how hard it was for my mom to raise me by herself. All I can think about is how I felt when I couldn’t do anything to save myself. But on the other hand, I feel so guilty for missing him too. He had his moments and I try to think about that instead of thinking about the bad ones. He’s not here to make me feel like I have to watch my back, but why does it feel like I still have to?”
“You’ve been through a lot and you have to understand that the average person doesn’t go through a lifetime of pain and trauma before they turn twenty-one. It feels like you’re stuck because there aren’t many people who can relate to you.”
You sigh. “I guess so. It feels lonely and isolating. It doesn’t matter how many times I open up to a therapist about it either. It always feels like I’m running so fast that I end up tripping over myself.” 
“So, what are you gonna do about it? Sit here and mope or make a decision?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is, though. You’re somebody who hates waiting around for people to save you. The only way to resolve anything is to pick a decision and stick with it until the end. If you regret it, at least you can say you tried.” 
“It’s really hard to self sabotage when I’m friends with you.” 
Heeseung laughs at that. “I know. I won’t let you do that either.” 
“I think I mostly feel bothersome for always talking about the same old problem to you.” 
“It doesn’t bother me. I care about you and you clearly need to talk to somebody who knows you inside and out. I’ve seen how difficult it is for you to open up and the fact that you’ve grown so close with Sunghoon in a short amount of time is incredible to me.” 
You groan and slump over your desk. “Don’t remind me. I haven’t properly seen him in weeks and feel awful that I have no energy to hang out whenever he asks me to. I hope he doesn’t think I’m ghosting him.”
“He doesn’t.” 
“How could you possibly know that?” Heeseung pulls out his phone and lets you glance over his texts with Sunghoon. 
“He asked if you were okay a while back and said he was worried since you kept declining to go out. His first thought was that you might’ve been sick or burned out, not that you were ghosting him.”
“Burned out is definitely the right answer.” 
Heeseung smiles at his phone. “Hoon was worried that he was coming off too strong by texting you so much. I told him you’d probably appreciate hearing from him more than giving you space.”
“Since when do you call him ‘Hoon’?”
“We’re close like that.” 
“That makes me nervous.” 
“I’ll be sure to divulge your crush on him while we hang out tonight.” You throw the cap of a pen at his chest. “He said he missed you, though.” 
“I miss him.” You groan a little too loudly for your liking. “I haven’t had any energy these last couple of weeks and I’ve been overthinking the hell out of kissing his cheek when I last saw him.”
“Sorry, you did what?!” 
“I kissed his cheek when he left my apartment and I can’t tell if I regret it or not.” 
“Dude, Sunghoon is clearly not weirded out by that,” Heeseung says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He wouldn’t be checking in with me about your mental state if he thought it was weird.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Positive. You don’t have to do anything crazy with him either. I get the feeling he’s the type of guy who’d appreciate doing anything as long as it’s with people he enjoys being around. He’d probably enjoy it if you two stayed in and watched movies.” 
“I can do that.” You pull your phone out and search for his contact. “I could do a movie and takeout.” 
“See? There's nothing to be worried about. You’re just stressed out about going home. Take it one day at a time.”
Sunghoon agrees to have a quiet night in when the weekend approaches and you find yourself sitting in his living room instead of your own. He tells you to come over in your pajamas with your worries left at his doorstep and asks you to let him take care of everything, including ordering takeout and paying for it. He tells you he’s up for watching a Christmas movie, but you’ve had your fill and the two of you decide to watch reruns of Community on Netflix as a way to relax through laughter and comedy. 
“I’m sorry that you’ve had a rough couple of weeks,” he says as he sits next to you on the couch. He’s encouraged you to put your feet up and sit however you’d like, and crossing your legs feels like a respectable position. He sits at a short distance from you, far enough that you aren’t touching but close enough that you can feel the warmth radiate off of him. 
“It’s that time of year. Everybody wants answers but nobody is willing to put in the work. It gets like this every December because everybody’s trying to finish strong before winter break.” 
“Still though, the guys made it seem like this was an everyday occurrence for you and seeing you so tired made me worried.” Your heart skips a beat. 
“Ah, well…my friends know I can push through anything. Jay’s the one who understands me the most when I get like this. I’ve been getting better at asking for help and they know I’ll come to them if I need to.”
“What about when you don’t?”
“Don’t what?”
“Ask for help?”
You turn to look at him. “I guess they force me to open up until I get annoyed and tell them to leave me alone. But that usually doesn’t last very long and I cave in since they never seem to listen to me anyway.” 
“I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” Sunghoon takes a small handful of the popcorn sitting on the coffee table and shoves it in his mouth. “You have good friends and I can tell they love you.”
“I owe them a lot, if I’m being honest. Sometimes it feels like I don’t do enough for them.” 
“You must be a good friend if they care about you that much, too. Don’t sell yourself short.” Sunghoon seems to see you in ways you can barely see yourself and his constant reminders always leave you speechless. 
“How’ve you been? How’s your photography class and work?”
“My classes wrapped up last week. It was bittersweet. I love my instructor and I’m sad that he and I are parting ways, but he’s taught me a lot that I’ll definitely remember when I pick up a camera. Work is fine as well, it’s getting a little busy because of the holidays but it’s nothing I can’t manage. They know about the situation with my parents so we’re trying to take it as it comes.” 
“Have you resolved that?” 
Sunghoon shakes his head. “Not yet…It feels like they don’t get it at all.” 
“I’m really sorry, Hoonie.” 
“It is what it is. I’ll miss Seoul a lot for more reasons than one.” He looks at you and your heart skips another beat. 
“Living here won’t be the same without running into you, I’ll tell you that much.”
“I’ll cherish those moments forever,” he teases. “I don’t know what I’m going to do but I’m going to try to convince them to hold off on retiring for a few years. I talked to our landlord and managed to negotiate one more month when I told him about what’s happening. I have enough to pay for that and I’m a little shocked that he agreed.” 
“Must be a Christmas miracle.” He looks at you with an unreadable expression. 
“Maybe. Have you decided if you’re going back home or not?”
You pick at your fingers. “I’m still on the fence about it. She called me yesterday and slipped that question in halfway through the conversation. I can tell she’s empathetic about it, though. She knows how hard it is for me to be back home with everything that happened with my dad. Part of me wants to go because I miss her, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Train tickets are probably too expensive anyway.”
“I’ll drive you.” 
You turn to face him. “Sunghoon, it’s a two hour drive.”
“And?”
“I’m not making you drive two hours to my house and two hours back to Seoul.” He looks at you like this is the easiest decision he’s ever had to make. 
“You’re not forcing me to do anything. I want to. This has been weighing on your mind for a long time and I don’t want you to miss out on spending the holidays with your mom just because of how much a ticket would cost to get you there.”
“Sunghoon–”
“It’s no sweat off of my back. I’m serious about it. I don’t have classes anymore and my work schedule is flexible. Plus, I think it could be cute to see where you grew up.” 
“That’s…Really sweet of you.” Sunghoon turns to look at you too and smiles with those plush lips you think about kissing a little too much. You try to reel it in because he’s your friend and that’s what friends do, right? 
“You’ve done a lot for me. The least I could do is drive you home.” 
You don’t say anything. You can’t say anything. Sunghoon sees you from the corner of his eye as you turn back to face the TV, and he watches you try to hide a smile. He turns away and feels his own cheeks flush at the thought of seeing you in your hometown, even if it’s for a short while. Above all, Sunghoon wants this Christmas to feel like it’s the best one you’ve ever had on the account that you’ve made Seoul feel like home for him. 
The night progresses and you switch to a movie halfway through the night until you yawn. Sunghoon grabs a blanket and puts it over the both of you instead of suggesting you go back to your apartment. Somehow, this gesture feels kinder than anything anybody has ever done for you. 
You’re both acutely aware of how close your bodies are because of the blanket but neither of you care all that much. Your shoulder keeps bumping into his every time you move and eat the popcorn he’s provided, and Sunghoon silently wishes that he could pull your body against his once and for all. He doesn’t, choosing to savor the way your side touches him instead of doing anything that might make you uncomfortable. But somewhere in your tired stupor, you put your head on his shoulder and yawn. 
“Thank you everything,” you say quietly. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you’d drive me home.”
“I’d do anything for you.” Sunghoon says it a bit too quickly but he doesn’t regret telling you that. 
“I wish I could repay you.”
“Being here is enough. Can I try something?” 
When you nod, Sunghoon maneuvers himself so that his back rests against the arm of the couch with his body spread across the cushions without disrupting you too much. You don’t fight against him when he scoops you into his arms and places your head on his chest. You feel his heartbeat in this position. It’s slow and melodic, unlike your fantasies of hoping the cute guy next door would have a rapid heart rate every time he saw you. But you think you like this better; Sunghoon seems to be comfortable around you. 
For the fear of touching you too much, Sunghoon keeps his hands by his side and pulls them away when he realizes he’s touching your exposed skin. You let go of every thought telling you to run away and grab his arms to wrap them around your own body, nuzzling your way close to his with your eyes closed in contentment. 
In lieu of saying goodnight, you kiss his chest and Sunghoon thinks he might be on cloud nine.
***
In the time between telling your mother you’d be home for a couple of days over the weekend to arriving at her doorstep, your friends have expressed their happiness in your decision. Jake couldn’t help but feel emotional when you told him and you get the feeling that Jay always knew the decision you’d make. Heeseung chose to forego teasing you out of solidarity for this vulnerable moment and wishes you all the best. However, all three of them did not hold back in telling you every joke in the book when you told them Sunghoon was dropping you off and picking you up. 
Sunghoon drives seamlessly and you silently thank him for it because approaching the familiar quietness of your neighborhood makes you feel somewhat uneasy. Your stomach turns in flips when you see that same house you used to look up at whenever you’d come home from school. It’s still jarring to see that only your mom’s car is parked on the street with your father’s car nowhere to be seen. It’s a physical reminder that he isn’t here and you don’t know if you’re relieved or not. She greets you the moment Sunghoon parks his car and the feeling of melting into her arms is indescribable. 
“I missed you,” she whispers into your hair. “It’s been so long.”
“I know, Eomma. I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be. You’re here now and that’s all I care about. You’re Sunghoon, right?” He turns to look at you as he pulls your duffle bag out of his car and bows at a full ninety degrees for just a second too long. She finds it amusing and tells him so when he stands up. 
“Pleasure to meet you. Y/N has great things to say about you.”
“Oh, trust me. She has good things to say about you too.”
“Okay!” You clap your hands and grab the bag from Sunghoon, turning your body away from him. “I think we’ve had a long car ride and can find literally anything else to talk about.” 
“I should get going before traffic gets bad. It was nice to meet you.”
“Come in for some tea!” 
She doesn’t give him the chance to respond but he doesn’t seem to mind. Sunghoon takes off his shoes and leaves them in the corner as your mom presents the two of you with a freshly brewed pot that reminds you of your childhood. The interior looks the same as it has since you last visited and that big family portrait still hangs above the couch in the living room. Your father smiles back at you like he’s happy you’re here. 
Sunghoon chooses to remain quiet as he drinks his tea to give you and your mom some time to catch up. He feels a bit awkward in a stranger’s home when this trip was supposed to be about you and your family, but he can’t say he isn’t pleased when the warmth of the tea starts to settle in his chest. Photos of you from your childhood line the walls and he can’t help but comment about how adorable you look in pink bows and frilly dresses. You look as cute then as you do now, but that’s something he will never tell you. 
Your mom brings out a small booklet of photos from your past, too. You try to prevent her from showing Sunghoon but he laughs it off and sits with pictures of you from elementary school in his hands. He tries not to let it show that his hands are shaking because you let your chin rest on his shoulder as you peer over him. He can feel your warm breath on his neck and it sends him into a short spiral until you’re scooping up the book and handing it back to your mom with a bashful smile on your face. 
He can see that you’re trying your best not to feel like that same, awkward mess of a teenage girl when your mother tells him stories about you from childhood. She tells him about the first time you performed in a dance recital and how you were center stage only to accidentally trip on your shoelaces that nearly sent you flying into the audience. She tells him about your first overseas vacation to Disney World in Florida because it was the first time you learned you hated humidity and people who didn’t know how to drive. 
With every hour that passes by, Sunghoon starts to think he understands you better. He knows you to be somebody who’s independent and confident, but the idea that you had to work hard towards it was lost on him until he came to visit your hometown. He understands why you felt so trapped here between your mother’s rants about how difficult your dad was to the limited opportunities for you to thrive. She tells him a bit about how you were emotionally unavailable in your teenage years despite your protests (as mothers tend to do), but she finishes her thought by telling Sunghoon how she’s always thought you were destined for things greater than what a small fishing town could ever offer you. He pretends like he’s got allergies when he feels his eyes watering up. 
Sunghoon asks to stretch his legs and by the time the night approaches, he’s agreed to stay over and spend more time visiting your favorite places and where you grew up. Your mom tells him not to feel like he’s intruding, as she rarely gets to spend time with anybody in your life, and he decides that this little vacation might be good for him. He offers to pay for dinner and he thinks he’s gained some approval for that. 
Time passes by too quickly for his liking. You’ve taken him everywhere you can think of–your old ice skating rink, your favorite boba shop, the schools you’ve attended–but it still feels like he’s barely scratched the surface of getting to know you before adulthood. He loves that you’re so open about yourself in a way that he’s never been able to. You talk his ear off about drama that you haven’t thought about in decades and he listens and feels several different emotions on your behalf despite not knowing anybody you’re talking about. He parks his car in the parking lot of your high school and the two of you spend an hour eating takeout from your favorite sandwich shop and gossipping about the entire town just for the two of you to hear. 
You talk about your dad on occasion and he doesn’t pry you to talk about it either. Sunghoon hears the melancholy in your voice when you think about old memories and missing him in ways you’ve never been able to experience before. You tell him that it’s been four years since you lost yourself. You also tell him that you don’t want to live the kind of life where you’re held back by his opinion anymore. He’s here in the walls and all over town, and the weight of missing him doesn’t feel like a burden anymore. It feels like a step towards freedom to be who you are, free from the anchors that kept you sheltered. Sunghoon knows your mother must be proud of you for making this decision because he sees it in her smile when she watches you laugh.
He decides he wants this kind of life; Sunghoon wants to be supported by his family when it comes to what he wants to do with his life. He wishes his parents believed in him as much as your mother believes in you. Seeing her so open and welcoming to a complete stranger and bragging about your accomplishments to him makes Sunghoon yearn for that kind of unconditional love too. Even in the moments when you get quiet over unpleasant memories that seem to resurface from coming back home, it seems that she helps you through it and doesn’t shame you for feeling the way that you do. It’s something Sunghoon desperately wishes he could do instead of entertaining conversations about taking over his family’s business. 
If there’s one thing you’ve taught Sunghoon, it’s that he can fall as many times as he wants so long as he chooses to get back up again. He’s come to love how open you are when it comes to people and experiences because he’s starting to understand just how difficult your childhood was until you found your footing in Seoul. Being alone meant exploring who you were without the opinions of people who wanted to hold you back. Even if people gave you reasons to shun the world and expect apologies from everybody under the sun, you hold your chin up with dignity and choose to move on instead of dwelling on people and things that don't matter. He wishes he could be like that too.
“Are you happy?” 
Sunghoon stares at your ceiling in your childhood bed when he asks you that. He’s a bit surprised that he’s allowed to be here at all and offered to take the couch, but your mother said the two of you are adults and don’t need her permission. The two of you were blushing messes when she left you alone to unpack your clothes while she gave him an extra toothbrush and old clothes from her brother who left them at her place. Both of you decided that it would be too awkward to try to not cuddle on your surprisingly comfortable twin bed and he chooses to use this as an excuse to touch you. He hasn’t heard a complaint from you and the feeling of your body wrapped up in his is exhilarating.
“I am, yeah. This weekend was a lot better than I thought it would be.”
“But are you happy with your life? Are you happy with yourself?” You push yourself off his body and look down at him.
“Where’s this coming from?” 
“I kept thinking about my life and my parents for the past couple of days. Your mom’s sweet and I can tell she believes in you whenever she tells me about your life here. It sounds like she did her best to raise you between work and your dad, and I can never imagine how stressful your childhood must've been with him in the house. I see how much you’ve grown from everything. It’s inspiring.”
“I don’t know if inspiring is the right word. I think I was dealt with shitty cards and expected an apology from the world without realizing that I had to work on myself in order to receive it.”
“That’s the thing, though. I can see that you’ve put in the work to become a better person. My parents aren’t as supportive as your mom and I kept thinking to myself: ‘Do I want to go through with a life that’s already planned for me when I know I’ll be unhappy?’”
Sunghoon looks up at you when he feels you brush his hair from his eyes. He can’t really tell what you’re thinking about as you look all over his face but the gentle touch of your fingertips puts him at ease as his mind begin to race. 
“I am happy. There are moments where I feel like the world is crumbling around me, but I know tomorrow is around the corner. I used to think that there wouldn’t be people out there who would ever believe all of the things I went through, but meeting the guys and making a life for myself makes me think otherwise. I’m happier because of it.” 
“That makes me feel hopeful.”
“Does it?” 
He nods and closes his eyes when your fingertip draws an invisible pathway across his cheek and down the bridge of his nose. You get dangerously close to his lips but your hand merely cups his jaw and your simple, gentle touch is enough for Sunghoon to realize he’s fallen far too hard to give up on his future, especially if you’re in it. 
“Yes,” he says in a whisper. “You make me feel like I could do anything if I try hard enough.” 
Sunghoon stares at you like you’ve hung up every star in the galaxy for him to see. When he looks at you, everything he’s been too afraid to say comes bubbling to the surface and his life beyond today becomes as clear as day. He wants to wake up next to you every morning and listen to your childhood stories until you run out of breath. He wants to spend every Christmas with you and fill your memory box with as many receipts with his signature on it. There is no future without you in it. 
You kiss him so tenderly that Sunghoon thinks he might be imagining things. Your palm is warm to the touch and he’s quick to react, pulling your body closer to his while his arms enclose your body against him. Sunghoon doesn’t know how many nights he’s spent imagining what your lips taste like or the way you sound with his mouth on yours, but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. 
He maneuvers you onto his lap because of the limited space on your twin bed and his body feels like it’s set ablaze when the back of your thighs touch his lap. You’re wearing thin shorts and an oversized shirt while he’s wearing clean basketball shorts from his car and a shirt your mom let him borrow. He feels your breasts push against his muscular chest as you lean against him for support and tilt your head to capture his mouth like you’re trying to taste all of him at once, and Sunghoon thinks he likes it when you’re desperate for him too. 
The weight of your body on his lap inevitably makes him hard and the quiet gasp into his mouth makes Sunghoon buck himself up into you. You grip onto his shoulders and dig push him back down onto the mattress to keep yourself steady and he’s about to apologize for crossing a boundary until you grind yourself onto him too. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he complies, taking it off in one fell swoop. 
“You’re really hot, you know that?” 
“Would you believe me if I told you I work out for you?”
“Not even a little bit.” Sunghoon laughs as he pulls your shirt off of your body delicately, cupping your breasts in his hands as he gives them a soft squeeze. 
“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “So perfect.” 
He’s hard underneath you, so much so that you feel him through your thin sleeping shorts. His cock is situated between your folds and every small movement you make is enough to make him feel like he’s losing his mind. Sunghoon holds your breasts in his hands as you push yourself off of his lap just to sink your weight back down. He gives your nipples a squeeze periodically and he makes a mental note when you throw your head back and moan. 
“I’m so wet,” you whisper when you sit upright, your hips continuing to grind against him. The way your voice cracks makes him feel better about being desperate to feel you. “This feels so good, Hoonie. But we can’t. My mom’s down the hall.” 
“Do you trust me?” 
Seeing you nod is enough for him. Sunghoon’s thankful your mattress isn’t loud or bumping against the wall. He temporarily pulls you off of his body to kick off his shorts and feels a bit shy when you stare at how big and hard he is through his boxers. You push your lap back down onto his and he refrains from moaning too loud, silencing himself by pulling your lips down to his by your neck. His hands wander to your ass as you feel his toned chest and abdomen too. He pushes and pulls your body over his cock and moves his lips to kiss up your jawline. 
“I wish I could fuck you properly like you deserve,” he says, leaving a wet trail of kisses on your skin. 
“I want that too.” 
“I’d worship every inch of you.” He uses his hands to press you against his lap until you bite back a moan. “I want to know what you feel like.”
“Fuck.”
“Cute.” 
He kisses your chin and wraps his arms around your lower back to keep you in place before thrusting his hips up to meet yours. Sunghoon catches you by surprise and you bite his shoulder to keep yourself from moaning too loud every time his clothed cock bumps against your clit. He’s so warm underneath you and this kind of touch is one that you’ve been craving longer than you’d like to admit. 
The passion is short lived and the two of you don’t care how quick it takes the two of you to come undone in the quiet of your bedroom. He kisses you and tries to swallow the sound of your lips smacking against one another, too afraid that one wrong move could make your mother distrust him. Sunghoon’s kisses make you dizzy but you cling onto him like he’s your lifeline until your high ebbs away, and the two of you clean up before getting a well deserved, good night’s rest. 
***
Sunghoon can barely keep his hands off of you when the two of you arrive back to your apartment. He tells you to come back to his place and have a cup of tea with him before you part ways and you agree. The entire car ride home made you feel like you might as well be living in one of your daydreams because he didn’t mind it when you pulled one of his hands from the steering wheel to hold it the entire drive back. He’d switch from holding your thigh to kissing the back of your hand every time you changed the music. The two of you sang your hearts out to pop songs from the 2000s and pretended to perform in front of an audience when dramatic ballads came on shuffle.
Things fall into place on the ride back. You decide to pursue a promotion when it opens in the new year and text your friends to tell them you’re safe and with Sunghoon. They make you promise to tell them all about this past weekend and try to get you to reveal your presents, but you refuse and include Sunghoon in all of the jokes they tell you in your group chat before they ask if he wants to be added into the main one. In every sense of the word, it felt like the two of you found a home in each other. 
He lets you change into fresh clothes and shower before you knock on his apartment. Sunghoon feels his heartbeat picking up when you show up in a tank top and shorts with no bra on, and he feels a bit like a teenage boy seeing a girl semi-naked for the first time. The two of you talk about your trip and the next festive thing you’ll do when he feels himself starting to get worked up. All Sunghoon can think about was keeping his promise to you when he made you orgasm through your panties. He wants you to know that he loves you, so he decides to tell you that when you stand up to put your mug in his sink.
“I love you. I’m telling you right now that I’d do anything you asked me to.” 
Sunghoon squeezes your hips with his fingers like he’s trying to convey what he says through his touch. His breath is warm as it fans against your lips and the heat of his apartment makes your cheeks and neck warm up from where you stand. He breathes heavily, as if his confession carries a great deal of weight to it. Every word he speaks drips with honesty and the loyalty behind it scares you. 
And yet, you can’t bring it in yourself to pull away when he kisses you. 
His soft, pillowy lips approach your own with caution. You feel him hover above you until he’s ghosting his mouth against yours as if you’re a magnet he can no longer resist. Sunghoon’s lips descend upon your own and he holds your body tightly against him like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. 
You both move like two slow dancers, swaying to the silent melody only audible by those who pay close enough attention. It’s at this moment you understand why poets and romantics speak of a hidden language only two lovers know. Sunghoon’s confession strengthens the feelings you’ve harbored for him and something about the way he touches you makes you feel like you can let go of your inhibitions. He’s brought your eagerness bubbling to the surface and you find that the harder you try to ignore your love for him, the louder your heart beats inside of your chest. 
You can’t help but think about how perfectly you slot against Sunghoon when you wrap your arms around his neck. He squeezes your hips the more you push into him and kisses you like he’s trying to commit the way your lips feel to memory. All of your worries melt into the floor the moment Sunghoon pulls away to look at your face under the ambient lighting and his gentle touch brushes your hair out of your face. His delicate thumbs come to cup your jawline and rub the apples of your cheeks as if you were made of something breakable. Sunghoon looks at you like this with the kind of gaze that can only be described as fondness. He looks at you with an accumulation of his feelings and desires of being wanted for who he is, not who he’s supposed to be. 
When Sunghoon looks at you, what he sees before him is a strong girl who braves the toughest weather in a tiny row boat with nothing but her wits and a single paddle. It’s your intelligence and patience that steers you away from the turbulent waters. You’re a beacon that lights a dark tunnel and deep down, Sunghoon knows that you’re his guiding light that’ll lead him home. It was your charm and passion that drew him in, and it’s your resilience and willpower that makes him want to stay. 
“I am nothing without you.” Sunghoon kisses both of your cheeks and his warm lips feel like comforting reminders that he’ll always be with you. 
“Hoonie…”
“What is it?” 
“Kiss me.” 
He does, with a slow pass at your lips while his hands cradle your cheeks in his hands and the tenderness of his touch feels something akin to puzzle pieces falling into place. The feeling is intense and overwhelming the more you drink in Sunghoon’s words to you and in this very moment, you allow yourself to believe he means what he says. Your hands find perch on his wrists as you grip onto him to anchor yourself. Sunghoon keeps kissing you as he puts one hand behind your head while the other moves to your upper back. He’s got you, even when you fall onto the mattress behind you when he dips your body backwards. 
Sunghoon hovers above your body and cages you underneath him as his warm mouth pushes against you rougher than before. He squeezes your hip until both legs are wide open enough for him to slot his body between them. It’s like he can’t get enough of the way you feel against his body because he finally has you exactly where he wants you. Sunghoon’s heart beats loudly in his chest that he feels the vibrations in his ears the more he listens to the way you two kiss, paired with your hands pushing up his shirt. Your fingernails rake down his abdomen and it leaves him a panting mess while he sucks in his stomach at the intense feeling. Sunghoon pushes a quiet moan against your mouth and you drink it up like it’s water. 
“I want to see you.” 
You whisper your incantation against his lips and the desperation in your voice enchants him. Sunghoon moves his fingertips to the hem of his shirt and briefly disconnects your mouth to pull it over his body completely before coming back down to kiss you again. He feels your hands spread across his shoulders and arms, squeezing his biceps while you moan at their firmness. They touch his chest and down to his sculpted abdomen when he jolts and he emits that same, breathy moan from before. 
Sunghoon chases your lips when you push his chest away from you and it takes two tries until he’s pulling his body back. The way you look underneath him does not compare to when he dreams of you like this. You’re breathtaking and alluring with your hair fanned out and lips wet and swollen from his kiss. He loves the way you look at him like he’s your consolation prize for befriending him all that time ago, and Sunghoon thinks he loves the feeling of you looking at his body like you’re a step from objectifying him. It feels like you’re finally taking what you want without hesitating to, like you’re not ashamed of feeling so intensely about him. That guard you keep up, the one placed there in protection against those who have the intention of abandoning you, has vanished only for him.
“Touch me.” 
His baritone command rings in your head while your hand spreads across his abdomen. Your fingers feel every hard ridge and the way he constricts his stomach underneath your touch. Sunghoon holds your hand underneath his to pull it up to his neck and guides you down his body as if he wants you to memorize what he feels like too. Somewhere between his parted lips and intense eye contact is when you realize your sanity is nowhere to be found, and it seems like he can tell because he feels the way your legs squeeze him. 
“I want you to see me too.” 
His fingers lift the hem of your shirt. “Can I take this off?”
When you nod, his fingers begin to tremble the higher the fabric travels up your body. Your skin is warm and soft underneath his tongue and he’s afraid that he’ll forget what you look like if his eyes stray from you. He pushes your top until he sees your deep green bra that hides your chest from him and pushes your back into an arch for him to unhook the fabric without much of a fuss. 
He doesn’t know where to look first. The bra is thrown haphazardly beside him and you can’t bring yourself to care about where it is on his bedroom floor. Instead, his hands cup your breasts and his fingers give a light squeeze as if to experiment with them. Sunghoon’s eyes gloss over your body and his mouth parts in astonishment the more he soaks your image in. He brings the pads of his thumbs to rub your nipples that have grown hard and sensitive since he pushed you onto the bed. 
Slowly, he descends. His warm mouth wraps around your left nipple with a tantalizing slowness that makes you feel like time is frozen around the two of you. Your heart drums in your chest at his merciful tongue that experimentally licks your nub. Sunghoon’s eyes dart up to look at you and drink in every reaction from his movements, and when he feels your chest arch into him upon sucking his mouth around your nipple, he brings his hand to the other and pinches it until you yelp. 
He flattens his tongue to lick you up before moving his head to switch to your other nipple, pressing a wet kiss to the valley between your breasts before attaching himself back onto you. The spot where his lips touched you blooms underneath your skin and sends a soft buzz all over your body. It’s hard to focus on his mouth when you feel overwhelmed in the best way possible. 
“So soft.” Sunghoon mutters in the quiet silence apart from your quiet pants and his mouth working your nipple. He grips your breasts and pushes them together as if to admire your naked chest with you watching him. 
“Hoonie—”
“I need to taste you.” He licks between both nipples and speaks as if he’s read your mind just by looking at you. “Can I? Please?” 
To be yearned like this feels like it could’ve been a blessing from above. Sunghoon looks at you with determination when you nod and you watch him sink further down your body with his hands following in his wake. In the quiet of his room, the bedsheets rustle underneath you when he beckons you to sit back against the pillows at the top of his bed. His warm and heavy breaths touch your thighs when he hooks his fingers around your shorts and pulls them down along with your panties. He hums when he pulls them off of you completely and looks directly between your legs, bringing both of his palms to feel your smooth legs until they come to grip your inner thighs. 
His electric touch is a spark you cannot seem to run away from. You feel completely frozen underneath his stare but you can’t bring yourself to shy away from his touch or sink deeper within yourself. Something about the man before you brings out the desires and needs you keep locked away, tucked inside the smallest cupboard in the back of your mind with the key long gone. But somehow, Sunghoon has paved his own way and brought you to your knees with a single kiss.
Sunghoon kisses your inner thighs, his pillowy lips leaving traces of cool spit onto your hot skin. His slow, soft pace is the kind of patience you wish for yourself. You love how kind and gentle he is when he’s with you and he never pushes you farther than your own capacity. He lets you set the tone and lead him wherever you choose to go, and his delicate touches with your body completely bare before him makes you think love and sex can be just as powerful as everyone says it is. When Sunghoon’s mouth comes to pass your core, he kisses the middle of your slit and savors the way your lap moves against him. 
“You feel so good.” He mutters against your other thigh like he’s saying a prayer. “So pliant for me.” Sunghoon nips at the juncture and smiles to himself when you gasp before returning to your mound, his left hand caressing your thigh while his other brings his thumb to knick at your hardened, aroused nub. 
“Sunghoon, I can’t…”
“Can’t what, baby?” 
“I can’t wait anymore.” When Sunghoon looks up at you, he sees the lust by the way your mouth parts just slightly ajar and how your chest rises and falls in anticipation. Who is he to deny you of your pleasure? 
Without another word, Sunghoon closes his eyes and sticks his tongue out to lick a fat stripe up your folds. Your moans are like music to his ears and he swears he could bottle it up and keep it shelved for days. The way you taste covers the surface of his wet muscle and he hums right into your core the more his mouth explores your aroused hole, poking the tip inside of you with every other swipe of his tongue just to tease you. 
“Ah, ahh!” Sunghoon loves hearing the way you whine underneath him and moans in appreciation when you roll your hips against his face because of him. It motivates him to move his head against you too, angling his face to lick every every single part of you. 
Your hands find themselves gripping your naked breasts in an attempt to ground yourself as your chest becomes one with the ceiling the more you arch your back. Sunghoon’s hands come to hold your waist and keep your legs spread before him before you can even think about falling back onto the bed. His touch is magnetic and you don’t think you’ve ever been so desperate to be touched by anyone before him. 
He lets your body fall and decides to give your legs a break since they’ve been spread out for him for so long. Your hips thank him when he lifts them both into the air and temporarily separates himself from your core to look at you like this. Sunghoon rises to kneel before you and his saliva leaves a string of spit when he detaches from your swollen folds. 
“Your pussy is so pretty.” Sunghoon stares intently at your glistening core and he’s mesmerized by the way you clench at his praise. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs your sensitive nub and smears your wetness around your folds, his other hand holding your legs up for you. “I can’t believe you deprived me of it for so long. 
“I wanna cum,” you moan selfishly when he sticks two of his fingers inside. Your smooth walls engulf his digits and your arousal splashes around the more he pumps them in and out of you. 
“My baby wants to cum?” he asks rhetorically, thrusting his fingers rapidly while your hands come to steady your legs in the air the way he’s been holding you. “You deserve to cum, baby. Let me make you feel good. Shit, yeah, squeeze my fingers just like that.”
“I-I can’t hold it!” 
“Cum right now or I’ll stop fucking you.”
As if a dam’s protective guard had shattered into a million pieces, Sunghoon’s command tips you over the edge and you release around his fingers. Your mind feels dizzy with the nonstop pleasure he’s been giving you and the way his fingers reach the deepest parts within you the more he angles himself on top of your body. His soft praises of a job well done sink into your chest the more he speaks. The sight of his toned biceps moving with every pass of your pussy makes you clench and push your orgasm out around his fingers. Sunghoon smiles wickedly at your mound the more you cream around his fingers and only stops pumping himself when your pussy squeezes him out. He brings his hand to his mouth and wraps them around his digits. 
“Mm,” he hums, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders drop. You peek at his lap and see his fully hardened cock tenting in his pants. The impressive size stares back at you like it’s daring you to take a peek. Sunghoon licks his fingers clean and catches you staring at his dick when he opens his eyes, but your lustful gaze only fuels his arousal. He leaks in his boxers and feels the precum soak the fabric. 
“You taste so fucking good.”
“Really?” Sunghoon grips your legs gently and settles them back down onto the mattress, soothing your sore thighs with his palms as he lightly massages your skin. He bends down to lick you one more time.
“Best pussy I’ve ever tasted. I could die between your legs.” 
“Sunghoon.” 
“I’m being serious.” 
He watches your hole when he pulls his pants and boxers down below his balls until his cock springs out and bounces in your presence. He’s big and girthy, just like you’d imagined the first time you saw the outline of his dick in his pants one morning. Sunghoon wraps his palm around his length and gives himself an experimental squeeze, hissing at the warm contact before tilting his head to spit on the head before stroking himself. The wet sound makes your core jolt in excitement. He watches you looking at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth with an expression so determined that it makes him laugh from above you. 
“Eager for me?” You look up but you don’t answer him. “I’m always so fucking hard for you but I didn’t want to scare you away. You wore this long black dress that made your body look like sin a while back. I think about what your ass looked like in that dress from time to time.” 
Your brows furrow in confusion. “I haven’t worn that dress in so long…that was before we met.”
“Yeah,” he confesses, twisting his wrist against himself before pinching the tip. “Thought you were cute back then.” 
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He stops stroking himself and kicks off the rest of his clothing before settling back between your stomach and cups your jawline with his hand. The way he looks at you is pure and nearly cliché, like the two of you might as well be the lead roles in a romance film. His warm, brown eyes bore into yours and you can’t say you don’t love it when he looks at you like this. 
“I didn’t want to get too attached to anything or anyone because I knew I had to go back home. I kept telling myself I wouldn’t do anything unless something gave me a reason to talk to you, and then we ran into each other with Jake’s ugly sweater.” 
You cheeks head up. “I forgot about that.” 
He kisses your lips once. “You looked so cute in it.”
“I look atrocious, Hoonie. It’s okay, it’s called an ugly sweater for a reason.”
“You could wear a trash bag and make it look fashionable.” 
“That’s a bit of a stretch, but I appreciate your faith in me.” Sunghoon kisses the tip of your nose. When he moves, you feel his bare cock resting against your folds and push your hips to meet him. His cock slots between them and Sunghoon hums when you grind against him, holding one of your hips steady. 
“Make me wet, baby.” Sunghoon kisses your jawline and his wet lips leave a cool trail on your skin the more you grind against him. “Make my cock wet enough to fuck you.” 
“Shit, shit…”
“Feels good, yeah?”
“So good,” you whisper. He kisses just beneath your earlobe and puckers his lips until he sucks the skin underneath. The tip of his cock catches your clit with every other pass and Sunghoon drinks up your moans like it’s water. 
“You’re gonna be a good girl and let me stick it in, right? You want my cock just as badly as I want your pussy, don’t you?” 
“You’re so fucking good at this.” He chuckles and his warm breath against your ear makes you shiver.
“Good at what, babe?”
“Talking. Touching me, fuck…everything.”
He drags his nose across your neck to the other side. “You deserve to feel good. You’ve been running around all over Seoul with no one to take care of you but me.” 
“Can’t believe I want you this much.” Without disrupting the position, Sunghoon reaches between your bodies and angles his cock until it breaches your hole with just his tip. It pulls a gasp out of you and Sunghoon lifts his head to watch your face morph in pleasure with your mouth open slightly ajar and eyes almost squinting in disbelief. 
“You don't even know the half of it. I want all of you all the time.” He pushes another inch inside of you. “I want to mold your pussy to the shape of my cock to the point that nobody else can fuck you as good as I can.” 
You grip onto his biceps. “F-Fuck.”
“I want to be the only person you look for. I don’t care how long it takes me to come back, but I’m not leaving you behind. I want you. Only you.” 
The feeling you get when you’re with him makes your chest feel tight with love and admiration the more Sunghoon looks at you like you’re the object of his affection, as if you’re something he cannot live without. You didn’t know that love could feel like an accumulation of every happy memory replaying in your head simultaneously. This newfound overwhelming sensation makes you feel like there isn’t anything you can’t face, as long as you face them with Sunghoon. 
He, on the other hand, finally understands why people talk about finding a home within another person. He’d never given second thought to romance when he knew that his life was planned out for him since he was born and never once thought that he’d get to make decisions on his own about his feelings when his entire livelihood is surrounded by order and duty. But here you are, lying so beautiful underneath him like a mosaic built from colorful stained glass with the sun peeking through it. You look like a dream with your face so pretty the more he pushes into you until he’s buried himself to his full capacity. 
Neither of you have ever had sex like this, so pure and raw with your bodies in tune with one another. It feels like the two of you exist beyond space and time with the way your breathing intensifies the more Sunghoon pulls out from you just to push right back inside. The intensity that permeates around his bedroom makes your breath run short and it fuels Sunghoon to keep a slow and steady rhythm, allowing his cock to reach the deepest parts within you without pushing you too fast. The whole affair is erotic and what can only be described as lovemaking. Sunghoon watches your eyes squeeze shut below him and brings a hand to push the stray hair away from your face. He thinks the two of you must’ve been fated in every universe for him to find, because there is not a single person he could ever imagine loving more than you. 
“I’ll fuck you every single day if you let me,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. He pulls his body up and places both palms on either side of your body before rolling his hips back. The new angle pushes him in a way that makes you moan loudly. 
“Fuck, Sunghoon.” 
“My baby’s so fucking pretty when she’s filled with my cock. Do you love this as much as I do?” 
“Yes!”
“Do you love me as much as I love you?”
You don’t hesitate to answer him. 
“I love you. I want you here forever.” 
“I can give you forever. I swear on it.” 
He pistons his hips until the audible sound of his pelvis smacking against yours becomes the loudest sound in the room. His balls slap against your ass when you wrap your legs around his waist until he drops to his elbows to catch you and squeeze your body when you clench around him. He tucks himself into your neck and his forehead feels warm and sweaty to the touch, but you can’t say that you don’t love how much he’s putting his body–and yours–through the ringer just to make you cum as many times as he possibly can. 
None of this feels real. Sunghoon might as well be a figment of your imagination because it seemed impossible for sex to feel as good as he’s making you feel. All of your concerns about the future don’t exist when he’s bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm. He, too, pushes all of his unwanted thoughts away in favor of helping you chase your release. Sunghoon’s determined to show you just how much he loves you by any means possible, and if his words of conviction won’t do him justice, he hopes his body will. 
It’s uncanny the way you feel completely safe around Sunghoon, when no one else has ever made you close to feeling the way you do with you. You’re able to break right before his very eyes and pick yourself off of the floor without feeling ashamed to have insecure and unwanted feelings about love and your attitude surrounding happenstances. You live your life based on the principle that everything happens for a reason and that people come and go but lessons will always stick with you. The people who live as ghosts in your past serve as reminders of painful memories and people who were never supposed to be here for very long, and you pray to the Heavens that Sunghoon is somebody meant to be in your life until forever comes to an end. 
Sunghoon holds himself off until he feels you unravel around him by the way you cling onto his body and clench around his cock. He brings his lips to yours and roughly pushes against your swollen ones when he feels you coming undone and allows himself to follow your lead. His cum fills you with thick, white ropes and oozes out from around him when your pussy can’t hold it in anymore. Sunghoon slows his pace down the more you try to catch your breath in an attempt to help you ride out your orgasm without overwhelming you too much. The squelches keep him semi-hard and your lips taste exactly like his favorite memory. 
“My good girl,” he whispers. “So sexy when you cum.” 
“You’re one to talk. You look like fucking Adonis right now.” 
Sunghoon laughs and kisses your forehead. “You flatter me too much.” 
“Nuh uh. I’m telling you the truth. It’s a little unfair how you always look so good, even when you aren’t trying.” 
“You’re one to talk.” He kisses your lips. “You always look so…cute.”
“Just cute?” 
“Pretty, too.” 
“Only pretty?” Sungoon smacks your outer thigh. 
“You are very beautiful and I’m enamored with you.” 
That makes you blush. “Hoon.” 
“What? Can’t a guy proclaim his love anymore?” 
Sunghoon’s body is warm against yours and he looks down at you with a fond smile in a way you always hoped somebody would. His dark eyes feel warm from above you and something about the way he’s watching you doesn’t make you feel observed. Rather, you feel a blooming warmth within your chest and nuzzle into his touch when he brings his hand to cup your face and rub the apple of your cheek. Sunghoon is gentle with his touch and you find it unbelievable that he’s managed to squeeze his way into your comfort zone as successfully as he had. You love his touch. You crave it, even.
His smile widens when you kiss the underside of his hand with a sweet peck and tilts his head in amusement. You feel bashful when Sunghoon looks at you like this because it feels reminiscent of having a crush in your childhood years, but with him, you can’t find that you dislike the way that you feel. His palm is warm and comforting, especially after spending so much time putting your body through physical rigor in ways you’ve never experienced. His strength never ceases to impress you and the nights you’ve spent picturing yourself underneath him suddenly have merit to them now. 
You find yourself breaking your own character when you lift your head up to push Sunghoon’s lips against yours and his response is immediate. Sunghoon’s plush lips melt right into yours and he slots himself against you like he was always supposed to be there, letting your head lie against the bed while his arm holds your waist. Everything about Sunghoon makes you wonder if love is supposed to feel like a quiet hug amidst a rainstorm, or if it’s supposed to feel like the crescendo in a brilliant symphonic masterpiece. Perhaps it’s a combination of both or none at all. These deep feelings you have for him have never been brought out by anyone before him. 
Sunghoon must know what you’re thinking because his hand travels up your body and back to your hair, gently scraping your scalp with his blunt fingertips. It feels so good to be loved and doted on like this without feeling like you don’t deserve to find an ounce of happiness with somebody who tells you they love you. Years of running away from the feeling of a comfortable embrace melts away with every second that passes with your lips on Sunghoon’s. He feels like every bit of home you’ve spent your whole life yearning for. 
“What are you thinking about?” His question pulls you out of your thoughts and you can’t find it in you to lie to him. 
“Is it selfish that I want you to stay?” 
“No, it’s not. I don’t want to leave Seoul either. I don’t want to leave you.”
“It feels like I just got you but now I have to let you go.”
He kisses you. “You don’t have to let me go. I’ll do whatever it takes to convince my parents to let me live the life that I want. Our trip to your hometown made me realize there’s more to life than people’s expectations of me.”  
You bottom lip quivers. “I’m scared that they won’t budge and that you’ll leave. I’m scared that you’re going to move on and leave me here thinking about you.” 
“I’d never.” He shakes his head like it’s a fact. “I could never forget you. I would never even think about moving on from you. I’m scared that somebody’s gonna snatch you up when I’m away.” 
“I’m really in love with you, unfortunately.” Sunghoon nips at your lip and cherishes the way you laugh. He looks away from you for a split second but the soothing touch of his hand feels comforting. He watches you frown for a minute. “I didn’t get you a present.”
“Baby, you’re my present.”
“That was really corny.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” He kisses you once more. “You’re too important for me to give up. I don’t want to let you go.” 
Somehow, you know he’s telling the truth. 
“Does this mean I’m your boyfriend now?”
“You have to ask.”
“Can I be your boyfriend?” 
You silence him with a kiss and when he feels you smiling against him, he has his answer. 
****
comments and reblogs are appreciated! :) x
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philosians · 4 months ago
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ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴄᴇ
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a three week paid-vacation provided by your captain gave rise to the opportunity to finally show you the gift sylus had gotten you. and no, it isn’t the yacht you’re on—but he wouldn’t be opposed to giving you that either.
[ !! ] — mdni | established relationship, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, fingering, oral (female receiving), praise kink, mating press, unprotected sex, sylus is soft in the bedroom okay now hush ;; alcohol mention (sylus drinks whiskey), fluff. oh did I mention soft! sylus?? uhhh maybe more tags than this idk there’s a lot going on lmao. unedited af I know that’s a warning. if y’all see cut sentences just know it’s a brain glitch >.< lol
a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day! phew i got this out before it ended hehe just in the nick of time. I do wanna forewarn everyone I don’t actively write smut so I deeply apologize for any sort of repetitiveness or just it being inaccurate and rushed overall, my apologies. but please enjoy reading! bc i wanna curl up and die and delete this after writing it actually lmao I’ll probably never write anything like this again haha
word count: roughly 4.8k
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The starry expanse of sky moves quickly outside of the window of the car, nothing but a blur of cosmic colors. Where you’re going you’re not quite sure, with all the secrecy from Sylus and the twins. It’s something Sylus has clearly planned for awhile, from the way he wanted you to dress tonight, but you’re still unable to put your finger on it.
At the very least, you’re glad that Kieran is the one that’s driving instead of Luke.
“Are you two going to tell me where we’re going yet?”
“Afraid not, Miss,” Kieran replies. “That’d be against orders from Boss.”
“Are we at least almost there yet?” you ask.
“We have about ten more minutes,” Luke chirps. “Then you’ll finally get to see Boss, don’t worry.”
You’re stunned into a mild fluster and look at your hands in your lap. You heard the twins snicker and you can’t help but shake your head incredulously. Oh well. You’re almost to your destination anyway.
After the last two months of an increase in Wanderer appearances, you could most certainly use a break. It’s been nothing short of hectic, battles here and evacuations there and the occasional dumbass that doesn’t want to listen to the warnings given out that an area is too dangerous to go into.
You softly sigh. You really shouldn’t be thinking about work.
You tug the large coat on your shoulders over you further, closing your eyes and sinking into the warmth and the smell of the man it belonged to.
Whatever in the world Sylus had planned must be big, even so that he couldn’t be bothered to tell even the twins exactly what he had in store. All the three of you knew was that he had a surprise, and the two brothers were more than happy to have the opportunity to have the base to themselves.
You just wish you knew where you were going.
“Is this it?”
“I think so. Ah, there’s Boss.”
Oh, already?
True to word, you open your eyes and see a familiar patch of silver against the darkness of the world. And you also happen to see a very, very large yacht not far from him.
A marina? You blink incredulously. A private fucking marina. Good lord, how much money does this man really have?
Upon stopping, you watch as Sylus turns his head slightly to the car. Luke quickly jumps from the passenger side and opens the door for you, ushering his hand outward dramatically and says, “After you, Miss.”
The heel of your shoe clicks against pavement as you step out, holding Luke’s hand for stability until you find your balance.
“Thanks, Luke.”
“Not a problem! Enjoy the honey— Uh, vacation!”
Luke jumps back into the car, more than likely to save himself from your questioning eyes. You can’t help but shake your head and make your way toward Sylus and the man in uniform, more than likely the captain of the yacht.
“Ah, Mrs. Sylus,” greets the captain with a tilt of his hat. His eyes blink as he does a once-over on you and then laughs. “I was wondering what kind of woman would tie such a man down, and now I understand. Please, come aboard.”
Your brows raise at Sylus as the captain pivots and boards the yacht. “Care to explain that?”
Sylus, in all his audacity, simply shrugs and smiles. “Nothing to explain, sweetie. He came up with that himself after I told him my lady would be joining me.”
You scoff in disbelief, but can’t help the small smile that falls to your lips. You take Sylus’s arm, wrapped your hand in the crook of his elbow as he leads you onto the ship.
“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, gazing around as he takes you to the deck. And you could only imagine what it would be like when you went out to sea.
“I figured you would like it,” he murmurs. “Glad to see my instincts weren’t wrong.”
You don’t miss the way his red eyes look to you, knowing he’s waiting for your words of affirmation. You laugh behind your hand, because yeah, he’s right.
You hum, taking his hand in your own. “Thank you for considering me.”
You also don’t miss the way his large fingers eagerly twine with your own, nor the way his eyes soften and blend with devotion and affection.
“Always.”
Thirty minutes pass before the ship takes off into the open sea. You barely feel it until Sylus has you stand to take you back outside from the dining area.
“So, where are we going?” you ask, gazing up at him.
Sylus’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “It’s a surprise.”
You grumble, humoring the man. “Of course it is.”
Sylus’s coat never leaves your shoulders the couple hours you’re both out on the deck. He seems to enjoy that, too; you wearing his clothes sparks something behind his eyes that you’re all too familiar with. The thought itself has your cheeks warming and thighs pressing together.
He flicks his wrist to check his watch when a timer beeps twice. You can’t help it when your eyes linger on his hand. You’ve always had a fixation on his them—on how big and warm they are in comparison to yours, on how his long fingers stretch across your body, and how they gently wrap around you and pull you close like he’d die without touching you. Those hands that had once forced you to attempt to resonate with him for three days had become soft, remorseful and loving. And he’d more than earned your forgiveness.
“Dinner should be ready.”
You grin. “You brought your chef?”
“Just for this trip,” he retorts, standing to full height. “Come.” His hand outstretches to you and you take it without hesitation.
You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly light up at the way your fingers immediately interlace with his. It’s a small joy to you, but to him it means everything—a testament to how far the two of you have come.
Dinner, as always, is perfect. Dessert even more so. You’re not too full, but more than satisfied. You give your compliments to the chef, who in turn happily skips back to the kitchen like he’s on cloud nine. And you can’t help but look at Sylus and smile as he downs his whiskey like it’s water.
“You don’t compliment your chef enough,” you comment. “One sentence from me and he acts like he’s never heard praise.”
Sylus hums as his brows raise, humored. He chuckles with the whiskey in his mouth before swallowing it to retort, “He knows his cooking is excellent. I suppose I just have a limit to how many compliments I can give out in a day.”
You place your chin in your hand. “Oh, really? Then how many do I get to have in a day?”
Adoration fills his ruby orbs. “As many as you want, my beloved.”
His hand reaches for your left over the table. Sylus’s thumb rubs over your fingers, resting atop your ring finger.
“Have I told you that you look exquisite tonight?” he whispers.
“You haven’t,” you reply cheekily. “I think you owe me a few more, don’t you think?”
The soft music in the background dies as you begin to hear your heart thunder in your ears. You do hope that Sylus can’t hear it pounding away like you can.
“Seems like I do,” he says in an exhale, leaning back in his seat but not letting go of your hand. His eyes have changed—once filled with adoration, now filled with a fire that makes heat rise to your cheeks and desire burn between your legs. “I don’t think I’ve shown you the bedroom yet, have I?”
You grin. “You haven’t. I’d like to see it.”
But what you don’t anticipate is your man standing and abruptly lifting you into a one arm carry. Your sharply inhale in surprise, arms immediately weave around his neck for support, but you know he’d never drop you anyway.
You trail your nose under his jaw, pressing a long kiss to his skin by his ear. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, the subtle presser making him hasten his long strides.
“Sweetheart—” Sylus gulps as you press two fingers to his mouth to silence him.
You pepper slow kisses down his neck, nipping at the skin every other kiss. It’s when you reach his collarbone you hear the click of a door. And seconds later you find the plush fabric of blankets underneath you and Sylus’s firm hand cradling the back of your head as he tilts your head back to capture your lips with his.
Between each heated kiss you attempt to catch your breath, only for your lover to devour your mouth with his own again and again.
“Mmmh— Sylus, let me—” another kiss “—catch my breath.”
He has a hard time pulling away. Sylus rests on one knee at the edge of the bed, hands grasping at the back of your bare calves as he catches his own breath and tries to pull himself back to his senses before he finishes himself off early.
While you toss your head back and close your eyes, trying to let oxygen catch up to your brain, Sylus lifts his head to look at you. He drinks in your appearance—the starry night sky sewn into the strapless obsidian dress (one that he had specially made for you) accentuated your body exactly the way he envisioned.
As he watches your breasts rise and fall with every breath, he feels his pants tighten even more. He’s so painfully hard just from simply kissing you—a testament to what you do to him, how deeply you affect him.
He rests his head against the plush of your thigh. As he trails his hand down your leg, he realizes you still have your heels on.
Your head snaps up at the feeling of one heel coming off, then the other.
“Sylus, what— Oh, shit.”
The momentum of him lifting your body further up the bed and hiking your dress up catches you off guard. His mouth latches to your thighs, kissing and biting all the way up until he reaches the fabric of your panties—the only thing between him and what he wants.
“Such a dark red, darling,” he hums. “Was this for me?”
“It might’ve been,” you tease.
As his finger loops around the red fabric covering you, Evol ready to help rip it off, your hand makes its way into his hair and tugs, forcing his eyes to attention.
“Rip these, I’m okay with that. Rip the dress, and I’ll kill you,” you say, half-joking. But damn did you really like this dress.
He chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “Understood.”
As soon as he tears them away and hikes your dress even further around your hips, Sylus’s mouth does nothing short of devour your pussy. You let out the loudest, wanton moan you’ve ever heard from yourself as his tongue buries itself in and against your folds. Your head falls back against the pillows, hands moving to grip the sheets beneath you to maintain some semblance of being grounded as Sylus eats you out like a starved man. Your legs are over his shoulders, allowing him the best access to your womanhood.
“Oh— Fuuuck, Sylus. Ohmygod, please don’t stop,” you beg, threading one hand through his hair again, grip tighter than earlier.
His reply comes in the form of him pushing his thick middle finger inside of you and mouth sucking on your clit. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth. His ring finger promptly follows, stretching your cunt and sinking deep inside of your walls. Tears of overstimulation line your eyes as you grasp at then pillow behind your head.
Both hands twine into his silver locks of hair, pressing him deeper into you. What you miss amidst your own haze of ecstasy is Sylus grinding himself against the mattress to find some sense of relief. His mind is at war, wanting nothing more than to cum right then and there versus wanting to watch his seed spill from your hole. It takes every ounce of self-control of his own body to not climax while he simultaneously loses his mind while his mouth is attached to your cunt.
“Don’t— Please— Sylus! Sylus, I’m gonna—”
Your back arches off of the bed, and you can’t help but press him further into you and grind against his face. Sylus’s arms wrap around your thighs, holding you steady. The deep groan of his satisfaction that leaves him only spurs you on further and further and further until your thighs clench around his head and you cum. Hard.
And Sylus more than enjoys sucking and licking away at your release as you climax, prolonging it as much as he can. He lifts your lower body into the air as he continues his onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and tongue, the pressure of your thighs on either side of his head making him dizzy. Your essence coats his chin and nose, your scent driving all his senses wild and pulls the remainder of his blood down to his cock.
He gains a free hand as you tighten your legs around his shoulders. He unbuckles his belt and slips it off with practiced ease before moving to unzip and unbutton his pants, tugging away at them.
When your hips stop shaking is when Sylus grabs your thighs with both hands and sets your body back down on the mattress. He hovers over you once again, taking in your disheveled appearance and partially-lidded eyes. His long fingers brush your skin and cradle your jaw.
“Still with me, sweetheart?” he asks.
You pant and gaze up at him. “Barely.” You swallow. “That tongue of yours is brutal.”
Sylus laughs. It’s almost enough to make him forget about the painful fact that his cock is straining against his pants. Until your knee brushes against it when you lift yourself from the bed and he groans.
You giggle as his head presses against your shoulder.
“You really shouldn’t neglect yourself like that,” you hum, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
Sylus’s lips meet your neck opposite of your arm wrapped around him and presses a long kiss to your sweaty skin, murmuring hotly into your ear, “There’s no one to blame but you, beloved. And I highly suggest you take responsibility.”
You moan and arch into him as his hands work on your dress, unzipping the back entirely and lowering it just below your breasts. You arch your back so he can undo the bra, and as soon as it’s on the floor, his mouth is on your chest. Sylus sucks and bites at your nipples, worshipping them and your breasts as he grinds his clothed erection into your bare pussy, soaking his dress pants in your juices.
You begin unbutton his shirt through the haze of your desire… before you slip your hands through the remaining buttons and fully rip his dress shirt apart, exposing his thick torso. You both chuckle at the sound of the buttons hitting the floor.
“Impatient?”
“Like you aren’t,” you remark.
Sylus shrugs off his shirt in a fluid motion and tosses it to the side from one arm. You manage to slide off your dress within a few moments, just as Sylus manages to get off his pants and briefs and… Oh…
You’d almost forgotten how big he is. Sure, the two of you have spent a couple more… sensual evenings together since you had him use your place as a safe house (and then him bringing you to his), but it always makes you shudder when your eyes land between the apex of his muscular thighs.
His tip weeps with precum, heavy cock red and flushed and—
Sylus’s breath is hot against your ear as he asks, “Like what you see, darling?”
—goddamn it you need it inside of you.
Your nails dig into his bicep, your other hand wrapping around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss, and Sylus is more than happy to oblige. His kiss is deep and reverent. A small moan escapes him as you two briefly pull apart for air before diving back into one another.
Everything is hot; your cheeks are flushed with the heat of desire and your pussy aches to have Sylus buried inside of you.
You pull him down on top of you with the arm around his neck, your other hand grasping his cock and positioning it at your entrance. Sylus hisses, hips bucking slightly as his fingers clench at his attempts at restraint.
“Fuck,” he pants. His red eyes clear for a moment, turning into a gentleness reserved for you as he asks, “You think you can take it?”
“I think you ate me out enough earlier I’ll manage,” you joke. Then your nails dig into the meat of his back, the sensation making him softly hiss again. “But if you don’t I’ll be doing it for you then.”
Sylus chuckles, nose dipping to your collarbone.
“My beloved is always so greedy, isn’t she?”
There is no retort from you—only a loud moan as Sylus’s tip enters you fills the room. He stops after that though, and as you look up to him to ask him why he stopped, you’re stunned at the sight before you.
Sylus is flushed red, panting and sweating as his muscles flex.
“Sylus?”
“Don’t,” he warns, shaking his head. “Give me… a moment. You feel… too good.”
The implication is clear. Sylus’s head falls as he inches himself a little further, delighting in hearing you gasp as he sinks more and more inches of himself inside of you. It takes all he has not to just cum at the feel of you; every ounce of self-control he has is being tested. He’s never been harder in his life, and being inside of the woman he loves—who feels like heaven wrapped around his cock—only proceeds to spiral him into a deeper pit of pleasure.
“Sylus… Sylus, more, please,” you hears you beg.
He’s halfway in, trying to take his time and let the romance of the evening last. But at that, and the sensation of your nails digging into his back, he finds himself a goner and lets his hips fall into yours, sinking the remainder of his fat cock into the depths of your wet pussy. A deep shudder passes through him, bliss running through his body.
“Fuck. Fuck, you feel divine,” Sylus says in a deep exhale.
“You’re so big,” you gasp, eyes clouded with the haze of lust. “Oh, Sy, you feel so good.”
The praise goes to his head immediately. He drags his cock back out slowly and a whine escapes you, hating the emptiness. But when Sylus places your legs over his shoulders and leans over you, it’s over for you both.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Sylus rolls his hips, sliding his full length back into the warm expanse of your pussy. His head falls back, and the pace he sets proceeds to bury you both alive underneath overwhelming ecstasy.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he pants, clenching his fist into the sheet. “How I feel every time I look at you? Utter perfection is all I see. Do you feel what you do to me, darling?”
All you can feel is Sylus’s weight on top of you and the feel of his heavy cock inside of you as he stretches you open on him, carving your pussy into the shape of his cock. His pelvis rubs against your clit deliciously, spurring you on further. As much as you want to drive your hips up to meet his thrusts, Sylus has you pinned down into a mating press and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.
The papping noises of your bodies meeting filled the room, sending your thoughts into an even dirtier place. He feels so good reaching so deep inside of you, tip rubbing against that special spot perfectly, like you’re made to be perfect for each other. You clench around Sylus at another thought and he inhales sharply.
“What’re you thinking about?” he questions.
You shake your head. “N-Nothing.”
His long fingers grab your jaw gently. “Tell me.”
And then he slows his pace. “No, Sylus—”
“Then tell me what my beloved is thinking in that pretty head of hers,” he murmurs into your ear. “Or else.”
“I was thinking… about… Uhm…” Sylus rolls his hips back into you, his heavy balls pressing against your ass as he awaits your answer.
“Well?”
“I, uh— A baby.”
At the word, you shy away into your arm. But Sylus doesn’t say anything, which makes you confused. After a couple seconds, you gaze back up at him. His eyes show how stunned he is, pupils blown as no doubt the word also revolves around his own mind.
“Sylus, I— Oh, fuucckk.”
His body weight presses your body into the mattress further, leaving you at his mercy as Sylus’s pace becomes brutal, like he’s let his base instincts take over. His big hand finds yours and twines your fingers together as he drives his cock into your pussy over and over and over again, the squelching noises only growing louder and louder in your ears.
“My kitten… wants a baby then?” He hums into your ear. “She wants me to cum inside of her and carry my baby, is that right?”
“It was… just a thought.”
He laughs as your pussy clenches around him more at his words.
“Seems like it’s more than just a thought.”
Sylus’s mouth meets yours in another kiss, powered by something more than just lust. Your brain turns fuzzy and hot, reality beginning to finally blur as another climax ascends from the depths of your core.
Your eyes shut as his mouth finds the sweet spot on your neck. He sucks and nips at the skin with his teeth and you’ve no doubt that there’ll be plenty of love bites scattered across your skin for days after tonight.
When he nips at your ear, you squeak and clench around him again. Sylus groans into your ear, “Do that again.”
You oblige, clenching down on him and making him piston himself in and out of you faster. Every thrust turns into one that pushes the air from your lungs. All you can see, all you can feel is Sylus—feel his body heat as he presses your body down with his; feel the thickness of his cock stretch you open and the weight of his balls as they slap against your ass.
And it feels so good. The shlick and pap noises are getting to you. The coil that’s been winding up all night finally feels like it’s about to burst. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pressing into Sylus’s firm chest.
“Ohmygod, Sy, gonna cum, gonna cum fuckfuckfuuucckkk!”
He nips at your earlobe, biting down on it gently before whispering into your ear, “Indulge, my love. Indulge and I’ll fulfill every single one of your desires tonight.”
At long last, the coil snaps. Euphoria pilots itself to your brain and all across your body. You shake from the intensity, having to wrap your arms around Sylus to ground yourself as you reach your high.
Your orgasm sends him over the edge. He thrusts a few more times before he finds himself pressing himself as deep as he can possibly go and releasing his seed inside of your pussy. It’s almost too much, even for him. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum harder than tonight.
Your bodies rock together as you both fall from the heights of cloud nine. Sylus peppers your sweaty skin with kisses, across the bruised love bites he’d left earlier.
It’s only when he feels himself soft enough to slip out of you does he ask, “A family?”
Sylus’s voice is soft. So soft in fact that you barely hear him. You take a moment to reply, only to find yourself being easily lifted from the bed and onto Sylus’s chest.
“It’s… Something that’s crossed my mind a few times,” you admit bashfully.
Silence fills the air for a moment before he asks again, in the same, quiet tone he’d just used.
“With me?”
Your smile stretches across your face instantly. Your lips meet his chest, right over his heart. Your eyes meet his—uncertainty meeting unconditional love.
“And no one else.”
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The next three days after are filled with you and Sylus partaking in all the activities that his yacht has to offer (plus more intimate times across the boat and it’s other rooms). He’d told you at one point that he would’ve just used the one he sails on regularly. But due to him wanting to spend more time with you than anything, and for you to have fun during the trip, he’d bought another and hired the captain to ensure safe passage.
Tonight however, was the night that you both were supposed to be arriving at your destination. You tried to help the anxiety and giddiness inside of you, trying to flatten it under a cool demeanor but Sylus just saw right through you.
Of course he would.
“There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s not like I’m taking you into enemy territory,” he jokes, gaze flicking to you from the stars in the open sky.
“I know that. I just can’t help it,” you mutter.
You shiver from the cold breeze, and Sylus shrugs off his leather jacket and places it over your shoulders. He leans down and zips it partway, resting his chin atop your head.
“Those hunter instincts of yours need to settle down,” he hums.
“I wish they would— Sylus!”
A hearty chuckle leaves him as you bounce away from his hold. Your eyes narrow at his treachery.
“What? Did I do something wrong?”
“Don’t you try and tickle me,” you warn playfully. You slip your arms through the sleeves of his leather jacket, trying to pull the sleeves back from over your palms to point at him. “Or I’m gonna tickle you back.”
Sylus smirks and rubs his fingers together. “Is that a challenge?”
“Mr. Sylus, Mrs. Sylus,” greets a familiar voice.
Embarrassment makes you duck your head away from the captain for a brief moment before you look at him.
“Just thought I’d come and let you know we’ll be docking soon.” The captain takes his hat off and bows before you both. “Thank you for allowing me the chance to sail you both for the last three days.”
Sylus nods his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you for giving us safe passage, Arthur.”
Arthur nods, reapplies his cap and heads back to steer the ship into the upcoming port.
You don’t get to watch as he disappears since Sylus wraps his arms around you, pulling your chin to his chest. He presses a sweet kiss to your temple and murmurs, “I do believe we’re here.”
The distraction of the captain was long enough that the scenery before you had changed into the moonlit sea into a large landmass illuminated by the full moon above.
Your jaw drops open at the sight, eyes lighting up as you get closer and closer to the port where the ship would dock.
“Sylus, where are we?” you ask quietly.
“It’s an island,” he states. “One that I bought awhile back and was making… renovations for.”
“Renovations? For what?”
He laughs softly and looks at you like you’re a goddess. “For whom, you mean.”
Your eyes widen into saucers. Is he…? Could he seriously mean…?
“Sylus, you bought me an island?” you inquire, utterly flabbergasted.
“I can’t exactly un-buy it, so I do hope you’ll like it,” he replies. To your ears and yours alone you can hear his wavering tone, like he’s awaiting your disappointment. You can’t have that.
You cup his cheeks and force him to look at you again.
“Sylus, I love it; even if it’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever been gifted, I love it. It’s just going to take me time to get used to it,” you tell him. Then you step on your tippy-toes and give him an eskimo kiss. “Thank you. I love you.”
You kiss him there at the front of the ship, wrapped in his warm, protective embrace, momentarily oblivious to the world and your surroundings.
What you’re also oblivious to, and have been since the start of the trip, is the fat diamond ring that’s been tucked away, hidden in Sylus’s bottom drawer to his dresser. And also to the fact of his other reason of being nervous.
To him hoping that you’ll say “yes” when he gets down on one knee to ask you to marry him.
But he’ll save that for later. Right now he intends to indulge and savor your lips on his and you being tucked into him, safe from the world to be loved and worshipped by him.
And hopefully, for the rest of this lifetime.
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