#nutshell summary are closed

[in1-nutshell]

Nutshell Summaries are closed!

Thank you everyone who wrote down a summary!

I will be trying to get back on my usual business as soon as possible!

Thank you for being kind and patient!

[cbeargyu]

𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙊 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 ― 𝑗. 𝑗𝑎𝑒ℎ𝑦𝑢𝑛

summary: after you tell a lie, there's no turning back, y/n doesn't know what to do now that she told the whole frat that she slept with the best boxer in college: jung jaehyun.

pairing: college boxer!jaehyun x student afab!reader

genre: strangers to friends w/ benefits to lovers, smut, angst (y/n is such a fool), college life.

wc: 27,4k

warnings: this fic is slightly inspired in manhwa peach sorbet. humor, cursing, breeding kink, fingering, blowjob, kissing, sex scenes in a nutshell💀, smoking, alcohol.

part ii here.

playlist: ✧ need to know ; doja cat ✧ tio ; zayn ✧ entertainer ; zayn ✧ common ; zayn ✧ rear view ; zayn ✧ you wish you knew ; zayn ✧ swim ; chase atlantic

notes: i hope you enjoy it and sorry for my bad english T-T english isn't my first language so pls forgive me if i had some grammar errors bc i'm still learning😁🙏 and yeah i love zayn 😭

“being a virgin in high school isn’t a big deal, y/n” that’s what your friend, kang saeran said, at that moment she was a virgin as well, but once both of you graduated, she slept with her boyfriend. damn liar. you thought because nowadays you were in your sophomore year in college and still nothing of action.

yeah, you had some boyfriends in the past, but never took the next step and had sex, maybe because you were afraid or because you thought that you wanted to be a virgin until you got married to the man you loved… how wrong you were.

none of your childhood friends went to the same college as you. that feels like starting from zero again. as a birthday present, your parents rented a small room for you close to the college, so you can become more independent and have your own space and avoid all the troubles with the roomies at the college sorority. 

at some point, you were excited, because you started to imagine all the privacy you would have and that meant one thing; have sex whenever you like. but the sad reality was other, you were always busy with school tasks and barely had time to hang out with friends, also add that you just went on some dates but nothing else. It’s like men weren’t interested in you in a sexual way, even in a romantic way. but, come on! you were pretty, funny, and have great music taste, what the hell is wrong with them then? 

“when did you lose your virginity, y/n?” you almost choked with your bubble tea when jinsol asked that without any filter, as if it were anything at all, maybe it was for her, but you… damn, you were a fucking virgin as hell. 

“perhaps she’s a virgin” jungeun mutters and giggled, you gave her a dirty look. 

“shut up, and nope, i’m not a virgin.” you lied, staring at your friend with confidence in your eyes, you thought your performance was too good because both girls looked at you expectantly for you to continue with your revelation. “was with my ex-boyfriend from high school, we had sex after the graduation party, on the couch at his parents' house” jinsol frowned and jungeun couldn't help but let out a laugh, although she tried to cover her mouth when jinsol nudged her, sorry, she said biting her lips as if she was avoiding at all costs not to laugh at you.

“wow… too much information if i can tell…” it was what jinsol said, on the inside, you were dying of shame, why should you have stuck your tongue out and said that? besides, you were unintentionally exposing how kang saeran lost her virginity. at least they didn't know her, so the ethics can be screwed if they want to. 

“well… it’s the first time i've told you this so… i’m sorry if it sounds weird to you”

“it did” jungeun mocked of you once again. 

“bitch, you’re starting to piss me off” you pointed your finger at jungeun in a threatening manner, maybe you were getting defensive, but you had to protect your secret from now on. "why don't you tell us how you lost your virginity?" 

since then, you and your friends have talked little to nothing about her active sex life at the moment. now and then, jungeun tells them that she will go on a date with some random dude on tinder and won't return to the sorority until the next day. she doesn't care about the sanctions she receives. jinsol is a beauty in the social science department and most of the guys have a huge crush on her, however, she recently started dating qian kun, an exchange boy in the music department, while you, well, you are in good health and doing well in your studies.

summer days are coming and that means summer vacations, you could return to your parent’s house or maybe apply for a job near the college. today was friday and your first class started at 9:30 am, it's still early so you decided to make a little stop at Starbucks on your way to the college. you ordered the usual; iced mocha. you took a seat near the window while checking your instagram feed, behind you were sitting some girls from the same department as you, you recognized one of them as park sooyoung, one of the college goddesses, she was barely wearing makeup and still looked too beautiful, her lips were pigmented in a strong red that stood out with her milky skin. she was laughing with her friends, you didn't avoid paying attention to the other's conversation when you heard the word sex.

“is he really as good as they said? i heard he can last up to five rounds in bed” 

“it was spectacular, have you heard that phrase that says “he would makes you see stars”? well, it was like that” sooyoung covered both cheeks realizing the blush that was appearing on her face. the other girls squealed and congratulated her.

“i heard about a rumor going around the frat that said that if you sleep with him, it’s 100% sure you’ll cum within five minutes” they squealed again and sooyoung kept nodding.

what you didn’t understand was, who the fuck are they talking about? thousands of images came to your mind, trying to give shape to the man they were describing, how prominent or spectacular he must be to have such abilities as if he were a god or something.

“i’m telling you girls, having sex with the leader of the boxing club was the best thing i could have done, besides, i would like to go out on a date with him, he’s not only good in bed, he’s also very attractive, at least i want to see him once again” that was what sooyoung said with a smile on her face, everything about her seemed to glow, is that the result of a good fuck? 

you thought about the boxing club- you didn’t even know there was a boxing club at the college, to begin with, let alone know who the leader is, but he must be someone good-looking as the rumors said. you didn’t give the matter any more thought and headed to the college, straight to your first class.

but your mind wouldn’t leave you alone and started to imagine all the possible faces and bodies that could be assimilated by someone handsome knows how to fuck and who, undoubtedly, must have a good body because he’s a boxer. you wish for a moment you hadn’t listened to that conversation that had nothing to do with you. oh, you did. in the end, you would regret it, because that night, your friends would invite you to a frat party to celebrate the arrival of summer and when you had too much alcohol in your system, the others decided it was a great idea to play “truth or dare” with an empty soju bottle that was there.

it was the turn of taeyong from the psychology department to turn the bottle, at this point you felt too dizzy, however, you knew how to hide it very well, next to you was jinsol, who was muttering something that you couldn’t understand well, maybe she was saying you to go to sleep or go to the restroom to vomit.

you opened your eyes in surprise when the tip of the bottle pointed at you, taeyong’s corners rose wickedly, and everyone was waiting expectantly for his question, you knew he would say something stupid as was common, something silly to make fun of you. but, even in this state, you weren’t going to allow it.

“who was the last person you had sex with?” that felt like a bucket of cold water on you, everyone laughed at the question, as direct and blatant as lee taeyong.

“what kind of question is that, hyung? we were asking about our kinks” jungwoo tapped taeyong’s shoulder in a friendly manner as if he could feel the tension in the air from the question.

and the thing is, you hadn’t done anything wrong to taeyong to make him dislike you like that, you just refused to go on a date with him because he wasn’t your type and he kept bragging about how he had slept with all the girls in the department.

“what’s wrong? you won’t answer? of course! your only last time must have been when you lost your virginity on your in-laws’ couch, or so jungeun said” taeyong let out a cruel-sounding laugh, everyone was completely silent, he was starting to cross the line.

you quickly looked at jungeun, the only one capable of telling taeyong that, she was choking on her beer when taeyong revealed that. “i swear i didn’t tell him everything!” was her only excuse as she wiped it off the beer with the back of her hand. the feeling of disappointment and humiliation was starting to rise in your chest.

the others tried to defuse the heated moment, taeyong looked at you with victory in his eyes, as if he had achieved his goal. but you were too stubborn to leave it at that, so you firmly answered his question:

“since you are so interested to know, i slept with…” your mind was not thinking clearly, you barely knew how to formulate an understandable sentence, you looked around and felt that long minutes passed, and taeyong staring at you coldly with his jaw clenched and arms crossed over his chest denoting the annoyance.

“a member of the… boxing club” damn you and your damn obsession with using someone else’s testimonials to pass them off as your own.

everyone’s eyes widened, what you had said was unheard of, and the questions of who it is were not long in coming. 

your gaze inadvertently fell on jungwoo, who was snacking on some of the fries on his left side. “jung…” you barely mumbled.

“jung?!” minkyung shouted out of nowhere as if she had hit the person you were talking about, but you just were inventing everything, wasn’t it? “you’re talking about jung Jaehyun?! oh my god, that man is so hot! you were keeping that secret well, y/n!” now all the girls were screaming around you, except jungeun and jinsol, who were looking at you dumbfounded. jinsol reacted quickly and congratulated you, although she didn’t know why she was doing it.

jung… who?

“are you… serious?” taeyong asked in a low voice, incredulous at your words. but when you nodded firmly, he licked his lips, thinking about how he could take more advantage of this situation. “well since you are so close to jaehyun, why don’t we invite him?” everyone innocently supported taeyong’s plan, as if they wanted to bring a couple together, but taeyong’s intentions were different. you bit your lips, holding in the anger that this motherfucker was provoking in you.

“do whatever you want, lee” when taeyong started to type jaehyun’s number on his phone, your heart started to race, you began to sweat and you didn’t know if it was the effects of alcohol or if you were just going to pass out from anxiety. taeyong had a nice conversation on the phone, it seemed that jaehyun was training and didn’t want to leave it just for a stupid party, as he said.

“come on, bro! we have a special guest here, i’m sure you want to see her” everyone started cheering. the line was silent until jaehyun said he would be here soon. fuck, he was just making things difficult.

the minutes went on forever and internally you wished he wouldn’t come through, but you could not chicken out, now you had to face thing as it was, also you had to figure out how you would keep your reputation after this, the most difficult thing was that you didn’t know jaehyun’s personality, apparently he is close to taeyong, what if he is just like him? you would certainly be done.

you heard the guests shouting as they announced jaehyun’s arrival, and you barely heard a deep voice complaining about making him come to a party in the middle of the night, you swallowed hard, and suddenly, the descriptions given by the girls at starbucks started to run through your head again.

god damn.

you were in big trouble.

no.

in a huge problem.

you were sitting on the ground when the huge figure of jung jaehyun landed in front of you, he frowned when you looked up to see him, god damn, his face was so beautiful, or maybe you were too drunk, but you looked into his dark eyes and you almost swore you were reflected in them.

his hair was falling over his face, he was wearing a loose sleeveless shirt showing his worked arms, his skin shone a bit, it must be the sweat from the training he was doing, underneath he only had black shorts revealing his strong legs, shit, you began to feel hot on your face from looking at him intensely.

damn, when you said you fucked someone from the boxing club you didn't expect they would bring a real person here just because you threw in a random name.

"hyung! why didn't you tell us that it was you who took away y/n's purity!” lee donghyuck put his arm around jaehyun's neck, but he didn't flinch. he just looked at you out of the corner of his eye, trying to understand what was going on, but without being too obvious.

"shut up haechan! didn't you hear that taeyong said that y/n lost her virginity a long time ago?" donghyuck was pushed by heejin, causing jaehyun to wriggle out of his grasp.

you could only close your eyes and swallow your shame, shit, how you wish you weren't there right now.

"why did you never tell us about this, y/n!" minkyung nudged you, very cheerful in her drunken state, but she only managed to plunge you further into embarrassment. the worst thing was that jaehyun looked annoyed with each passing minute.

"i didn't know you had high standards, y/n, it's amazing to know that jaehyun gave you a chance in his bed" when taeyong said that, something in you snapped, any hope of pride gone.

“h-hey jaehyun, I thought we'd never see each other again…” you said, completely nervous and shaking.

“must be a coincidence, y/n”

jaehyun gave you a smile that managed to send a chill through your whole body, even more so because of the tone he used when he said your name as if he had tasted it from his mouth before letting it out.

without warning, jaehyun wrapped you in his arms in a warm hug and it denoted a lot of confidence, but your body was rigid, you could barely react. the others yelled obscenities like go get to a room, but you only paid attention to what jaehyun whispered in your ear.

"okay, you will ask everyone to excuse you, but you have to leave with me, did you get it?"

as an automatic reaction you nodded, and once jaehyun separated from you his aura changed completely, now he smiled and his eyes turned half moons, two tender dimples appeared on his cheeks and you could look at his face for the first time with a dazzling smile from him.

“okay guys, thanks for inviting me, but i have to go, jaehyun will walk me home-”

"wow, you guys are going to fuck!" minhyung yelled out of nowhere, jinsol gave him a death glare and he gulped, realizing his mistake. "oh, I mean, they'll just walk home, yeah," he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.

in an act of trust, you took jahyun's hand and intertwined it with yours, although the boy's body tensed, he hid it quite well, both of you left the building and the walk became awkward, neither of you was able to say anything while you moved away from the gaze of others, but you didn’t let go of each other's hands either. before going out into the dark, you noticed how jaehyun's knuckles were worn, and bruised with recent reddish wounds.

you led the way home without saying a word, the route was usually seven minutes, but this time you felt that your home was ten miles from the fraternity. once in front of the door of your home, you swallowed saliva, preparing yourself mentally and physically for the reverence in search of forgiveness from you and all the next generations.

“did you say that... you and I met and that... we had sex?” the slowness of his words was painful and humiliating, you stopped your walk, but you weren't able to turn to face jaehyun.

“please forgive me, i was too drunk, i know it's not an excuse, but at that moment... i just said the first thing that came to my mind, i didn't expect that there was someone with the name jung in the boxing club. i'm sorry, i got you involved in this lie, but if my friends and the whole frat find out i lied i’m all done, the truth is… i'm still a virgin, i've never slept with anyone and-...” you started talking so fast that jaehyun could barely understand everything you said, he chuckled because your speech was so random jaehyun didn't know how to feel right now, maybe used or just like a idiot that ruined your lie for being called jung and join the boxing club.

jaehyun was silent for a few moments, however, that was not uncomfortable, it was more like he understood your situation, even though you had dragged him into your lies, he listened to you carefully.

“if you want, i’ll say it didn’t happen” jaehyun whispered, bright darkness appeared in his eyes and his lips curved up in a strange smirk, he took a hand out of his pockets and brought it closer to your face, slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb, you didn't know if it was you or him who was burning in the heat. “but where’s the fun in that?” 

the softness with which he caressed your cheek was intoxicating, due to the closeness you could smell his cologne and a faint of sweat, but it wasn't a bad thing for you in those moments, it felt so raw and intimate, god, you were in front of a real man. instinctively, you brought your face closer to him, tilting your head to try to reach him and you even stood on your toes, this only made jaehyun giggle, who saw it as something cute of you, there was no doubt that you were completely virgin.

with parted lips you asked for jaehyun to kiss you, so desperate for his touch and wondering what his saliva tastes like, your thoughts were rising as you felt jaehyun's breath on your face. and as if jaehyun read your thoughts, he kissed you slowly, you could only move your head to give him better access, your hands ended up on his chest where they squeezed his shirt hard and jaehyun's other hand landed on your neck, pushing you towards him.

his kiss increased when without warning, jaehyun pushed his tongue into your mouth, first licking your lower lip and then going all the way in, at first you were surprised, but it didn't take long for you to reciprocate and keep up with him. a heat was present in your crotch, and hot gasps left your mouth that was barely silenced by jung jaehyun's wild and intoxicating kisses.

god, you didn't want to stop, but the lack of oxygen was present in both of you, managing to separate for a few moments, jaehyun stared at you and you did too, it was as if his eyes were calling you to keep kissing him and how obedient a girl you were, you pushed your lips to his again, this time leading the rhythm and placing your arms around his neck, stroking with your fingertips the fade of his hair and the tips of his ears.

this time you felt jaehyun's hands slightly climb up your hips until they slipped under your blouse, you gasped at the contact of his cold hands touching your warm skin, at this moment you were letting yourself be carried away by hormones, you were not thinking correctly with your head, but you didn't care, you wanted to rub yourself against jaehyun's body to relieve the burning sensation in your crotch.

suddenly, the sound of a call coming in made you jump. jaehyun patted his front pocket and took his cell phone out, it was none other than lee taeyong, you rolled your eyes without jaehyun seeing you and he took the call.

"we're in front of her house, yah... calm down, i'm about to go back to the frat, we won't do anything tonight..." his words made your heart skip a beat, your cheeks turned redder than you thought they were already after the hot kissing session. jaehyun was going along with your lie and that was so... sneaky.

"i have to go, i don't want to have another penalty for leaving the rooms late" jaehyun took a deep breath and put both hands in his pockets as he watched you slowly search for the keys. you were kind of disappointed that it all ended like this tonight, being interrupted by that motherfucker.

"okay then, see you around...?" he said, with some doubt in his voice, you looked up and noticed a sparkle in his eyes. hope. as if it were a romantic movie, you dropped everything you had in your hands and you kiss his lips, a short and pure kiss, but full of feelings and desire, jaehyun could barely flinch because you quickly separated, when you turned embarrassed, a smile already decorated her reddish lips.

"thank you jaehyun"

"why do you thank me?"

"just because of everything..." you smile shyly, alcohol does have a strong effect on you. "see you later" you assured and that made jaehyun feel safe. your word was everything. soon you would see each other again.

a week later, you hadn't seen jaehyun near the college, even though you didn't want to be so obvious looking around for him, you always kept an eye on the crowd when you were walking around campus.

finally, the only thing you know about him is that he belongs to the boxing club, nothing else.

also, you don't know where the boxing club is.

would it be weird for you to ask for the location?

the uncomfortable questions from the people who attended the party that friday were all around you but ceased on tuesday when that topic was no longer new.

jinsol recommended you not see jaehyun anymore, when you questioned her why she simply said "there are many rumors around him, i don't want that to involve you" even though you tried to understand her, the word rumors, were very ambiguous; what other rumors will exist around Jung Jaehyun besides the ones you heard in the cafeteria?

otherwise, jungeun sent you a lot of messages apologizing to you for telling taeyong about your "closeness" and that she didn't expect you to have fucked jaehyun. well, it was a lie, but only he and you knew that.

you stopped thinking about everything that had happened in the last few days and focused on the strong pain you felt in your neck, it must be the stress, you thought. although the summer vacations were approaching and with it the end of the semester, you felt a bit pressured with the exams and final deliveries, yesterday you did nothing but study and now these were the results. you fondled the painful part and let out a small moan.

taking classes on saturdays, having body pain and the extreme heat was the perfect recipe to alter your mood, even though you were wearing a light button-down shirt and shorts you felt the sticky feeling on your skin beginning to upset you.

you decided to stop at starbuck's to buy something cold, as soon as you arrived at the establishment the air system greeted you, thank heavens the place was not so crowded and there were some empty tables, you thought if it would be a good idea to sit down for a bit to check the essay you were about to submit next week.

"hello welcome, may i take your order?"

"hi, i'd like a venti ice americano, please-"

"two venti ice americano, please."

you were interrupted when someone taller than you, perched on your right. it was none other than jung jaehyun, smiling warmly at the cafe worker with those beautiful dimples, you were dumbfounded, the woman typed the computer and confirmed the order, jaehyun in one brisk movement, pulled out the cash ready to pay for you.

"my treat, okay?" he said, how was it possible that he did everything so naturally? you could barely say anything, you merely mumbled a slight thank you, but he looked so comfortable around you that you didn't know what to do.

when your coffees were delivered, you sat down at a table in the back. strangely, you felt like a girl on her first date of a lifetime, your heart was pounding hard against your chest and your hands were sweating, no matter how hard you tried to wipe them against the fabric of your shorts it wasn't enough.

"thanks for the coffee, jaehyun" was all you managed to say, he squeaked and took a sip of his coffee.

"it's nothing" he shrugged his shoulders downplaying it, he shook his hair and you noticed light beads of sweat, surely he came from training or something. also, you saw that the wounds from his fists were still there, but not only that… the veins on his arm and hands were too marked, that image was so hot. you had never had any fixation with people's hands, but seeing jaehyun's hands made you change your mind and you couldn't think of them touching you, around your neck or on your… "y/n?" you jumped in place when you heard him call out to you. "are you okay? it seems your mind is occupied with something else" he recited as if he could read your thoughts, you swallowed saliva and quickly denied.

"it's not that, it's just… i'm a little stressed from school these days, i've barely been able to rest properly" your hand caressed the back of your neck, massaging it lightly. jaehyun's eyes carefully followed your every move without you noticing.

"i can tell, I've heard that the finance department is very strict and stern, isn't it?" wait a minute, how does he know which department you belong to? hearing that threw you off a bit and you couldn't help but ask him.

"how do you know I'm in the finance department?" jaehyun smiled as if he had been caught.

"well, i've heard a lot about you."

it only took a second for your face to change color. what could he have heard about you? you wanted to ask, but your throat closed up in that moment. you felt your body tremble from the thoughts growing in your mind. why was jaehyun suddenly so interested in you? was it because of the lie, perhaps? jaehyun might have noticed the change in your expression and let out a small laugh. that was all it took for all the embarrassment to drain from your body, making the atmosphere lighter and allowing your muscles to relax. without meaning to, you smiled too.

you realized how easy it was to talk to him. despite his attractive appearance, anyone would think he would be the typical arrogant guy for being part of a sports club and sleeping with many girls, but jung jaehyun was the complete opposite.

you kept bumping into things as your drink slowly dwindled, leaving only the ice cubes in sight. even though the conversation flowed naturally, you both knew you were skirting around the main issue, avoiding the heart of the matter. if only you hadn't been interrupted yesterday—what would have happened? would jaehyun have slept with you? so many questions, and a mix of fear about knowing the answers.

"do you mind if I walk you home? It's getting late" jaehyun suggested, swirling his glass in the air, causing the ice cubes to clink from side to side. you glanced at your own glass, now empty. you had both lost track of time. when jaehyun stood up, a strange feeling hit your stomach, and without thinking, you bit your lip. your house was close by, so you decided to play it cool and go along with whatever random topic he’d start talking about next.

on the way home, you couldn't stop thinking about what to do. would it be too cold to just walk inside and act like nothing’s happening? would it be too much to ask him to come inside with you? would he think you're too easy? you weren’t sure of the answers to the flood of questions swirling in your mind, but one thing was certain—you both felt the sexual tension. even when your shoulders brushed against each other, you could feel electricity shoot through your body with every tiny touch. jaehyun seemed calm, or at least that’s the image he was trying to project.

once you stood in front of your apartment door, jaehyun spoke: "I really enjoyed the conversation. rest well, y/n" jaehyun slipped his hands into his pockets and gave you a small, lopsided smile. "I hope next time we meet, you don’t act like a stranger." you parted your lips, searching for the right words. his face seemed like it was waiting for something more.

are you waiting for something more? you thought. it was hard to say goodbye now, and without hesitating, you said:

"hey, jaehyun, it’s saturday and it’s still early. why don’t you come in?" you rubbed your arm, trying to calm yourself, as your heart raced a mile a minute. the seconds you waited for his response felt like years. jaehyun's smile widened, and he nodded.

you opened the door and felt the warmth of your home welcoming you, while inside, your mind was spinning. I invited him. I actually did it. in reality, it was the first time you had brought a guy over—someone of the opposite sex, someone you were interested in.

and you were interested in him in the most sexual way possible.

"thanks for inviting me" jaehyun said with a grateful smile, showing off his adorable dimples. you weren’t sure if it was the whole situation, but even that innocent gesture sent a wave of heat through your body, especially between your legs. quickly, you took off your hoodie and tied your hair into a ponytail.

"it's been really hot today. do you mind if I take a quick shower?" you asked, waving your hands as if trying to cool yourself down. jaehyun raised an eyebrow, curious.

"go ahead, I’ll wait," he said, sitting down on the small sofa in your living room. you could feel two things pulsing: your heart and your vagina.

suddenly, the mood shifted, as your movements became a bit clumsy—like when you accidentally kicked the edge of the dining table, causing you to curse under your breath. when jaehyun moved closer to help, you quickly pushed his chest away. "I’m fine!" you repeated, not looking him in the eye.

"if it feels awkward, wouldn’t it be better if I leave?" jaehyun's voice was calm, trying to understand you. it was more than obvious that you were feeling uneasy about everything that had happened between the two of you, and he understood why the situation suddenly felt weird.

"n-no!" you quickly said, looking at him with concern. jaehyun stepped a little closer. "you don’t want to... do that?" your cheeks turned pink, and your gaze dropped to your feet, feeling truly embarrassed. jaehyun let out a small chuckle, realizing that, in fact, you were a complete virgin, acting like a high school girl.

"what’s so funny?" your cheeks puffed up, feeling both embarrassed and a little annoyed at the thought that jaehyun might be making fun of you.

"nothing, you’re just really cute,’ he said, lifting your chin to lock eyes with you. you could see the confidence in his gaze while you were a bundle of nerves and anxiety. "you’re really beautiful, y/n" his free hand now took yours, which was smaller than his, and that only turned jaehyun on even more. slowly, he walked back to the sofa and sat down, leaving you standing in front of him, your chest right in his view. "in any case, there’s no need to shower... you’re going to sweat again anyway." your face flushed even more, fully grasping the double meaning of his words, but your body jolted slightly as you felt jaehyun’s warm hands slide under your shirt, moving up to reveal your breasts, pushing your bra out of the way. you had to admit, the sight of jaehyun massaging your breasts was undeniably hot.

you were lost in his soft and exciting touch that you didn't notice when jaehyun caught your left nipple between his lips, the hot and wet sensation of his tongue making you gasp. the man's hands slid over your waist, pulling you closer to him, you were so fucking horny.

a new sensation made you jump as jaehyun grabbed the other nipple with his fingertips, rubbing it. you felt wetter and wetter, weaker and weaker, and if it weren't for jaehyun's strong arm holding you, you might have fallen at any moment.

you don't know how much time passed, but jaehyun switched to your other nipple, and you could see how the left one was shining with saliva and swollen... an image that made you even wetter and feel incredibly hot.

"let's go to bed" in an instant, he pulled your soft flesh out of his mouth, looking at you with lust-filled eyes, his lips swollen and shiny with saliva. though you were a little dizzy with excitement, you hadn’t realized how far things had gone. you were about to head to your bed—then what would happen?

before you knew it, you were already lying on your bed with jaehyun on top of you. you watched as he took off his shirt, revealing his well-toned body, worthy of someone who belonged to the boxing club. he tossed the shirt somewhere in the room and leaned down to kiss your lips with hunger and desire. obscene sounds escaped from his mouth, gasps and moans filling the room.

jaehyun's fingers reached your panties, pulling them aside to finally touch your most intimate place, and you opened your eyes in surprise.

‘it's really wet down here,’ he said with a smile on his face, slowly caressing you. his fingers slid over your flesh, from your clitoris to your labia. why did it feel so good? despite the intense sensation, you felt embarrassed, covering your face with both hands. ‘are you sure you've never done this before?’ jaehyun asked with a grin, as his fingers stroked you up and down."

“I told you that I have never—AGH!’ you couldn’t even finish the sentence because something entered your body. jaehyun had inserted one of his long fingers, which quickly began to move in and out. it was your first time, and the sensation was strange and a little painful; your face contorted and your body stiffened. you were so tight that it hurt, but soon your moans turned into pleasurable groans. was this the power of jung jaehyun that all the girls talked about? the feeling of someone else doing it was truly different; you would never have reached this level of excitement on your own. jaehyun added another finger, and the wet sounds echoed even more in the room. without warning, a knot formed in your stomach, and you knew something was about to happen, so you quickly grabbed jaehyun’s wrist, trying to stop him. “w-wait, ah! I f-feel... I feel something coming...’” as soon as you finished the sentence, a clear stream shot out, soaking the pink sheets of your bed. you let out a sweet moan that made jaehyun doubly hard. you closed your eyes, recovering from the incredible orgasm you had just experienced. when you opened them, you saw jaehyun’s proud expression and a large puddle in your crotch—again, the wet sheets. “but what the—! I just washed them this week!” you almost started crying because washing sheets is the worst. jaehyun just giggled. before you knew it, he was unzipping his pants and...

what he released from between his legs was not something ordinary. come on, you had never seen one in person, but this was nothing like what you had seen in porn pages or the images that strangers sent to your message inbox. this was simply huge in every sense of the word. how was it possible that it could fit inside you? the tip was pink, and veins started from the base of his abdomen, wrapping around it. it looked quite hard, and you could barely appreciate it before he began to roll a condom over it. where had he gotten it? who knows, but you couldn't stop thinking about the size. “what’s wrong, y/n?” obviously, your reaction had thrilled him, feeding his ego. “do you think it won’t fit?” one corner of his lips curled into a sly smile.

"are you challenging me? of course, bring it on!’ you said, feeling confident because y/n wasn't just any girl; you were a competitive girl, and this was nothing. you knew it would hurt at first, yes, but your hunger for sex was stronger, and you were sure that soon you would have that chunk of meat buried deep in your wet pussy.

"I like confident girls" jaehyun said, leaning his face closer to yours and licking his lips with lust as he took your legs, positioning himself between them. once he was nestled between you, he ran his hands over your captivating body. first, he gently took your shoulders, caressing them from top to bottom, then he traced his warm tongue along your neck, sending shivers throughout your body—especially in your swollen pussy. afterward, he massaged your breasts, which weren’t particularly big, and sometimes you felt insecure about that. however, seeing how perfectly they fit in jaehyun's hands made you feel so sexy. did jaehyun think the same?

how was it possible for him to be so good at this? his touch quickly left you weak and dizzy. was it because he had had a lot of sex before? that was clear; he was handsome, had a great body, and above all, he was well-endowed down there. no girl could resist.

"I’m going to put it in" he leaned closer to your face, and you felt his warm breath. that’s when you realized that what was about to enter you was something big, hard, and thick. maybe you shouldn’t have challenged him like that. perhaps just a little, you were starting to fear that the process would be too painful.

you clung to his arms as he slowly slid inside you. he caressed your cheek and whispered, "relax, don’t tense your body too much"

it was easy for him to say that, as he wasn’t the one being penetrated. however, he was incredibly gentle, even when he was fully inside you, your body stiffened. your head tilted back as you breathed quickly, trying to adjust to what had been inserted into you for the first time. "I won’t move until you feel ready, okay?" his nose brushed against yours in a compassionate gesture, and even that filled your heart. small tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, and it was jaehyun who gently wiped them away. "you’re doing so well, y/n."

despite the pain that ran through your body, your mind was focused on the pleasure that the situation was giving you: jaehyun’s naked body on top of you, jaehyun inside you, jaehyun with a blush on his face, jaehyun having sex with you. it was the only thing you could think about, and it only made you wetter. little by little, the pain faded, and suddenly you were begging him in a voice that betrayed your surrender, asking jaehyun to move.

then, the hard and fast thrusts came without hesitation. you could only focus on how your breasts bounced and how barely you could hold back your gasps of pleasure. jaehyun looked satisfied, seeing the sheer thrill on your face. you couldn’t think straight; you could barely keep your eyes open, and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d last, as you were getting wetter with each movement.

‘wow, you’re really soaked,’ jaehyun commented with a grin on his face, almost as if he were mocking your state. you didn’t even care; instead, you pulled him closer, clinging tightly to his body.

suddenly, your phone started ringing—someone was calling you. it was so unexpected, and jaehyun seemed to care about it as he paused and asked, ‘you should probably answer that.’ but before he could even reach for the phone, you grabbed his hand and guided it to your breast, whispering softly, ‘don’t stop, please,’ while biting your lip. you were close, you could feel it, and whoever was calling could go to hell right now.

this made jaehyun even more turned on. for a moment, he didn’t know how to react, but as your legs wrapped around him again, he could only smirk, proud of his bedroom skills, enough to have the ex-virgin begging him not to stop. he knew you were enchanting, but he didn’t know just how much. so, he grabbed your waist, lifting it to penetrate you deeper and faster. this technique made your moans even louder, filled with pure excitement. combined with the sounds of skin slapping, the creak of the bed, and jaehyun’s gasps, it all created a unique melody in the room.

“oh, i'm going to cum...” jaehyun warned as his movements became harder against your body, you felt the pounding hit hard against your hips and how his fingers were marked on your waist painfully, but all this combined only brought you closer to climax too and from one moment to the next you were untying the knot in your stomach through a sweet orgasm, giving a squeal as a result. jaehyun took off the full condom and looked at you on the bed, trying to catch your breath, your legs quivering with pleasure and your nipples still erect. there was no choice but to take another condom. “ready for round two?” he whispered in your ear.

although, you were processing how good your first time having sex had been, you didn't think you were completely ready for a second round, however, you couldn't resist against jaehyun, and without thinking, you ended up sweaty and exhausted after 4 more rounds. 

it had been two weeks since that night with jaehyun—two long, chaotic weeks where everything seemed to fall apart piece by piece. a fire had broken out in an apartment two floors above yours, thick smoke swallowing the hallways, alarms screaming through the building. even though your place hadn't been damaged, the inspectors had evacuated everyone to assess the structure. you'd bounced from couch to couch, staying with friends for a night or two at most, but their living situations were tight—shared sorority houses, cramped apartments, boyfriends already occupying the only free space. now, you sat alone on a bench across from the university, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly through your contacts, desperate for someone, anyone, to call. going back to your mother’s place wasn’t an option—you knew the arguments would start the second you walked through the door. you craved your independence, even if it meant being homeless for a few days. the problem was, you didn’t have the money for a hotel. not even close.

you look at jaehyun's contact for a second, you stop to think if it would be a good idea to call him, I mean, you barely know each other, you slept together once, would that be enough of an excuse for him to let you live with him for a while?

you don’t know what to expect when he answers. you’re clutching your phone like it might slip out of your hand from how fast your pulse is racing. and now, with your apartment unlivable, your options reduced to zero, you’re doing the last thing you wanted—calling him.

it rings. once. twice.

then you hear his voice, smooth and casual like nothing’s changed.

“hey. y/n?”

you swallow thickly, your voice trembling despite how much you try to sound fine.

“hi. i know it’s… late. and random. and maybe you don’t want to hear from me, but i didn’t know who else to call.”

there’s a pause, but it’s not uncomfortable. it’s quiet, like he’s listening closely.

“what’s wrong?”

you sigh, eyes stinging as the reality settles deeper into your chest.

“there was a fire in my building. the apartment above mine is completely destroyed, and the structure’s unsafe. they told me i can’t stay there. i don’t really… have anywhere to go right now.”

another pause. this one longer. you brace yourself for something like damn, that sucks or hope you figure it out.

instead, he says softly, “i’m at the pool hall with a couple of friends. you can come. we’ll talk here.”

you don’t know what to say to that, so you just whisper, “okay. send me the location.”

you arrive about thirty minutes later. the place is half-lit, old wooden floors scuffed from years of dragging chairs and boots, the smell of beer and smoke embedded into the walls. the second you step in, you spot him—jaehyun, in a black t-shirt that clings to his shoulders and jeans that do too much justice to his thighs. he’s bent over a table, lining up a shot, lips parted slightly in concentration. he looks good. too good.

when he notices you, his face relaxes. his body straightens. no hesitation.

he waves you over. “you made it.”

you nod, offering a small smile. “hi.”

“guys, this is y/n,” he says, turning to the two men beside him. “yuta, taeyong.”

they both greet you, yuta with a mischievous glint in his eye and taeyong with something a little softer. polite, but unmistakably curious.

“nice to meet you,” yuta says, and you catch his eyes flicker down your outfit—tight jeans, fitted top, just casual enough to not scream i dressed up for someone, but still enough to make their jaws subtly tighten.

jaehyun sees it. you feel it in the way he stands a little closer to you.

“chill,” he tells them, easy but pointed. “she’s way out of your league.”

they laugh, pretending like they weren’t staring, and jaehyun turns back to you.

“want a beer?”

“sure.”

he brings one for you without asking what kind. cold glass touches your palm, and his fingers brush yours just a second longer than necessary. he doesn’t mention the call again. doesn’t ask you anything serious. just hands you a stick and nods at the table.

“you play?”

“twice. maybe. terribly.”

he grins. “that’s more than most.”

you play a few turns. he’s good. effortlessly good. you’re not, but you’re trying. then your turn comes up again, and you bend over to line up your shot. you don’t realize how far you’re leaning until you feel it—the air shifts. someone’s watching.

you glance sideways. yuta’s not even trying to hide the way he’s looking.

jaehyun clears his throat, sharp.

“dude. seriously?”

yuta looks away like a scolded child, taeyong biting back a smile.

jaehyun’s voice is low now, just for you. “you might want to bend less, unless you want to start a war.”

you raise a brow, playfully. “they’re just looking.”

“yeah, and i don’t like it.”

he walks around the table, stops behind you. “want help?”

you nod, and he steps close. closer than he needs to. his front presses lightly against your back, firm and warm. he leans down, guiding your arms, his chest flush to you, his breath skating along the shell of your ear.

“hit the green. angle it toward the corner pocket. trust me, you’ll nail it.”

but you’re not listening. not really. not when his hand slides just a little too far down your arm, or when his hips nudge forward, enough to feel him. he’s doing it on purpose. there’s no way he isn’t.

you shift, bump your elbow lightly into his ribs. “you’re kind of all over me. i can’t focus like that.”

he chuckles, stepping back with both hands raised. “my bad. force of habit.”

you shoot. the ball sinks clean.

his voice lights up. “see? you are good.”

you smile despite yourself. “maybe you’re not a terrible coach.”

he high-fives you, fingers curling briefly around yours, and for a while, the game continues. laughter. teasing. another round of beers. the weight between you two loosens just a bit—but never disappears.

eventually, it’s time to leave. the guys stretch and yawn, pretending they aren’t already planning their next stop.

“we were thinking of hitting that new bar on third,” yuta says.

“nah,” jaehyun replies instantly, grabbing his jacket. “i’m taking y/n home.”

taeyong raises a brow but doesn’t argue. “alright. catch you later.”

once outside, the air feels cooler. quieter. you walk in silence for a few blocks, your body relaxing more than you expected. and then he says it.

“so… what happened exactly?”

you exhale, the weight returning. “the apartment above mine caught fire. no one got hurt, but they say the building’s not safe. i can’t go back until it’s inspected and fixed. and all my friends live with their boyfriends, or in places too cramped to take someone in.”

he nods slowly, not pushing.

“you can stay with me,” he says after a beat. “just… not tonight.”

you look up at him, confused. “why not?”

he scratches the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.

“my roommate kicked me out for the night. his girlfriend’s coming over, and well… you know.”

you do. you laugh a little, half amused, half exhausted. “so that’s why you were out?”

“yeah. didn’t feel like hearing them fuck through the wall.”

you both fall silent, until he looks to the right. neon lights spill across the sidewalk in pinks and reds. your eyes follow his line of sight.

a motel.

he glances back at you, one brow lifted. “wanna crash there for tonight? i’ll get you a room.”

you don’t even hesitate.

“yes. please.”

he smiles, soft and genuine this time. “come on, then.”

and for the first time that night, you feel like you might actually sleep without everything collapsing around you.

the motel room was small and stuffy, the thick summer air clinging to your skin the moment you stepped inside. the door clicked shut behind you, and jaehyun immediately moved to the wall-mounted control, turning on the air conditioner with a low hum that filled the silence. still, it was warm, your skin damp with sweat and exhaustion. you sat on the edge of the bed, waving a hand lazily in front of your face as you tried to cool off, your other hand pushing your hair away from your neck.

“fuck, it’s hot,” you muttered, fingers fumbling with your hair, searching for a hair tie that wasn’t there.

“here,” jaehyun said, tossing something onto the bed beside you. it was a small plastic bag, printed with the motel’s name in red cursive. you opened it, expecting maybe a water bottle or a towel, but instead found a collection of travel-sized soaps, a tiny bottle of shampoo, a mint, two condoms in gold wrappers… and a hair tie. your fingers brushed over it before you looked up at him with a raised brow.

“you know this place too well.”

he scoffed, smirking as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “maybe you’re just the one who doesn’t know anything.”

his voice held a mocking edge, teasing you like he always did, like he hadn’t fucked you stupid on your own bed two weeks ago and left without so much as a real goodbye.

you reached into the plastic bag and pulled out the small collection of motel goodies, letting your fingers slide over the items until they wrapped around the foil square. it crinkled softly between your fingertips as you held it up, raising your brows as your eyes flicked to him.

“do these even fit you?” you asked, tone playful but low, teasing.

he huffed a quiet laugh, pushing his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he stepped closer, arms still crossed over his chest.

“not really,” he said. “those are standard size. they don’t fit me right.”

you rolled your eyes, even as your cheeks burned with something you didn’t want to name. reaching back, you tied your hair up with the elastic, then stood up to stretch, pretending not to care that he was watching you.

jaehyun checked his phone and sighed. “i should go. the guys are probably already at the next bar.”

your chest tightened, confusion blooming low and sour in your stomach. you blinked. “you’re leaving?”

“wasn’t the plan to crash here just for you?” he teased, but there was something unreadable in his eyes.

you hesitated, lips parting. you didn’t want to ask him to stay. you didn’t want to sound needy. but the thought of him walking out again, of sleeping alone in a motel bed you hadn’t paid for, filled you with a sudden ache.

“it’s hot as hell out there,” you said, stepping closer. “you should shower. you’ll feel better.”

he arched a brow. “i showered before going out.”

“so what?” you shrugged, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. “i think you should shower again.”

he stared at you for a beat, eyes darkening as the realization clicked into place. “ah,” he murmured, tilting his head. “so that’s what this is.”

your body moved before you could think—crawling up onto the bed, slow and deliberate, your eyes never leaving his. he didn’t move, just watched as you reached him, rising on your knees to press your palms to his chest. his shirt was soft and damp against your fingers. you tilted your face up to his, lips barely brushing his collarbone.

“don’t go,” you whispered. “you’re already here… might as well make it worth it.”

his hand slid to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, lips ghosting over your temple as he muttered, low and sinful, “you’re playing a dangerous game, baby.”

your heart skipped a beat. you weren’t even trying to hide the way your gaze dropped to the bulge in his pants. his words shouldn’t have made your thighs press together like that, shouldn’t have sent that deep, pulsing warmth down your spine, but fuck—he was so casual about it, so sure of himself, it made your breath hitch. he was already hard. you could see it now. and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

you let the condom fall onto the bed as your hand drifted slowly to the front of his pants, fingers hovering before you made contact. the heat radiating through the fabric was almost unbearable, and when you finally palmed him through it, his jaw flexed. your voice came out soft, a little shaky, but full of intent.

“can i see it?”

his eyes darkened immediately, and he didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched you with that unreadable expression that made your stomach twist. then he nodded, slow and sure, backing up and letting himself fall onto the bed. he pulled his shirt off in one swift motion and laid back, propping his hands behind his head, the muscles of his arms flexing, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that made your mouth go dry.

“go ahead,” he murmured, “since you’re so curious.”

his pants were already unbuttoned, boxers peeking out from the waistband. your gaze dropped to the heavy outline straining against the fabric, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for him. it was your first time doing this—your first time touching a guy like this—and you felt nervous, eager, clumsy all at once. you tugged his pants lower until they pooled around his thighs, revealing the thick bulge beneath his briefs.

when you finally pushed those down too, your eyes widened slightly. your hand wrapped around him, a little too firm, and you felt him twitch under your touch.

“not so rough,” he said, his voice low, half-laughing, half-breathless. “be gentle.”

you nodded, swallowing hard, adjusting your grip, your thumb brushing along the tip. the weight and warmth of him in your palm was foreign and overwhelming. your head dipped forward and you kissed him there, soft and uncertain. he sucked in a breath, his abs tightening, his hand still behind his head but his knuckles whitening with the way he gripped the pillow.

you let your tongue trace slowly along the underside, tasting him, feeling him throb with every slow movement. then you wrapped your lips around the head and began to take him in, your hand stroking what you couldn’t fit just yet.

he made a sound—a sharp breath, a curse under his breath—and when you looked up, his face was flushed, his eyes half-lidded with something between shock and desperation.

“am i doing it right?” you asked, pulling back slightly, your lips glossy, your voice soft and unsure.

“fuck, yes,” he groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. “you’re gonna kill me if you keep looking at me like that.”

his hips bucked slightly, involuntary, and you took him deeper this time, slowly, carefully, adjusting to the rhythm, feeling the way his thighs tensed beneath your touch. his breathing grew heavier, his abs flexing with every flick of your tongue, every soft suck, every messy, eager movement. he reached down, fingers threading into your hair, not to guide you, just to anchor himself, as if grounding his sanity with the feeling of you.

“shit, baby—” he moaned, his voice rough now, desperate. “just like that. don’t stop.”

you didn’t. you hollowed your cheeks and moved faster, more confident now, loving the way he twitched on your tongue, the way his composure was crumbling second by second. his fingers tightened in your hair and his thighs trembled slightly.

“fuck, i’m close—” he gasped.

you kept going, feeling his release building, tasting the salty pre-come on your tongue, and when he finally came with a low, strangled groan, hips jerking, voice broken and raw—he said your name like a plea.

you swallowed, slow and deliberate, licking your lips as you looked up at him. he looked dazed, ruined, beautiful. his chest was heaving, sweat on his brow, his skin flushed.

“jesus,” he whispered, a half-laugh escaping his lips as he finally let go of your hair. “where the hell did you learn to do that?”

you just smiled, your lips still tingling, proud of yourself, of how undone he looked—like you were the only one who had ever touched him like that.

you crawled back up the bed, breath still shallow from everything you had just done, and started peeling your clothes off one by one. your fingers fumbled slightly from how needy you felt, pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it aside without care, followed by your bra, panties, everything that separated your burning skin from his. his eyes were on you the entire time—hungry, intense, reverent. he didn’t say anything, just licked his lips and let his gaze roam across your body like he was starving for it.

“i want to ride you,” you said, voice low, thick with want.

his mouth parted slightly, surprise flickering in his eyes, before he leaned over to grab something from his wallet on the nightstand. “wait,” he murmured, pulling out a foil wrapper—different from the motel ones. thicker, black, and unmistakably his. “these are the ones that actually fit.”

you watched him tear the wrapper open and roll it on effortlessly, his movements confident but still urgent, like he’d been holding himself back just for you. when he was ready, he laid back again, arms slightly outstretched, his eyes locked on yours.

“come here,” he said. “you can ride me now.”

you bit your lip and moved quickly, like you couldn’t bear to wait another second. and you really couldn’t—you’d been on edge for days. the stress, the instability, not knowing where you’d sleep, all of it had pressed down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. but when you were with him, everything slowed. everything made sense. and right now, you just needed to feel him, to get lost in him.

you straddled his hips, your knees on either side of his thighs, palms pressing against his firm chest. his hands found your waist, warm and steady, as you guided yourself over him. he was so hard, so thick, and as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, you gasped—half from the stretch, half from the overwhelming feeling of finally, finally being this close. his cock filled you inch by inch, making your walls clench around him involuntarily, your breath hitching as you adjusted.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, brows furrowed, his fingers digging into your skin like he was barely holding on.

your eyes fluttered shut as you took him deeper, until your hips met his and your thighs were trembling from the intensity. you rested your hands on his abs, taking a moment to breathe through it, to feel him throbbing inside you.

“you okay?” he asked, voice softer now, thumb brushing along your hip.

you nodded, leaning down to kiss him, slow and messy. then you began to move—shallow at first, testing the pace, but soon you were rolling your hips, finding a rhythm that made your body light up with fire. every movement dragged delicious friction along your walls, and the way he filled you, stretched you, made you moan softly, needily.

his hands slid up to your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they peaked, sensitive and aching. he cupped them both, lifting himself slightly to suck one into his mouth. his tongue was hot and wet, swirling around the sensitive nub while his other hand played with the other breast, squeezing, pinching gently, making your hips grind harder against him.

“god, you feel so good,” he murmured against your skin, lips still wrapped around your nipple, his voice sending vibrations through your chest.

your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly as you rode him faster now, the slap of your skin meeting his echoing in the cheap motel room. your breath came in short, ragged gasps, your body trembling as the pleasure built. he sucked harder on your breast, then switched to the other, moaning into you like he was addicted to the taste of your skin.

“jaehyun—” you whimpered, grinding down harder, desperate for release. “i’m close…”

“don’t stop,” he said, breathless, one hand sliding down between your bodies to rub tight, fast circles against your clit. “cum for me, baby. let me feel it.”

you cried out, body shaking as the orgasm ripped through you, thighs quivering, cunt pulsing around him in waves that felt endless. he grunted beneath you, lost in the way you clenched around him, hips thrusting up as he chased his own high, until with a deep moan and your name on his lips, he came too—hard, twitching inside you, eyes clenched shut, body taut with release.

you collapsed on top of him, breath tangled with his, both of you sweaty, shaky, completely undone.

after a moment of recovery, limbs tangled and skin damp with sweat, jaehyun pulled you close and pressed a soft kiss against your shoulder.

“we should shower,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky. “it’s hot as hell in here.”

you hummed in agreement, letting him guide you out of the bed. your legs felt like jelly, sore and shaky, but his arm stayed around your waist, grounding you. the bathroom light was harsh, flickering slightly like everything else in that old motel, but the water came out warm and steady. steam quickly filled the small space.

you stepped into the shower first, sighing as the water hit your back, washing away the sweat and lingering stickiness. jaehyun stepped in behind you, his body pressing up against yours, his arms wrapping loosely around your waist. the moment should’ve been calm, domestic, but his hands couldn’t help but wander.

his lips brushed your neck, wet and slow, while his fingers slid up your stomach to cup your breasts again. “couldn’t stop thinking about these,” he whispered, licking a droplet of water from your shoulder.

you tilted your head, letting him kiss you deeper. your back arched instinctively, pressing into him, and you felt his cock hardening against the curve of your ass. “again?” you teased breathlessly.

“you’re too fucking hot not to,” he said, voice rough, before turning you around so your back was against the cold tile. his mouth claimed yours, tongue exploring like he hadn’t just come not long ago. he lifted one of your legs, hooking it over his hip, and the tip of his cock rubbed against your folds, teasing.

you gasped as he slipped inside again—this time slower, deeper, the water pouring down your bodies as he began to move. the shower was tight, cramped, but that only made it hotter. the sound of skin on skin was drowned by the water, but you could hear him panting in your ear, could feel the way his mouth latched onto your nipple again, his thrusts picking up pace.

you held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, your moans muffled against his neck. it was messy, rushed, passionate. and when you came again, clenching around him, he followed quickly, holding you tight as he spilled inside the condom once more, both of you trembling under the hot spray.

after the shower, you dried off, still breathless, your legs wobbling every time you moved. you collapsed into bed with a sigh, pulling the thin sheet over your body. jaehyun lay beside you for a few minutes, stroking your hair, until sleep started to pull you under.

when you woke up, sunlight was leaking through the curtains, weak and golden. the bed beside you was empty. you blinked against the brightness, groaning at the soreness in your thighs and hips. everything hurt deliciously. you reached for your phone on the nightstand, and saw a message waiting from jaehyun.

had to leave early. training. don’t worry about time, i extended the checkout. i’ll call you when i’m done and take you to my place. there’s food for you on the table. eat, baby.

you sat up, rubbing your eyes and looking around. on the small glass table near the window sat a paper bag from starbucks. you got up, curious, and opened it to find a warm cheese sandwich and your favorite coffee. it made you smile—something about the quiet thoughtfulness of it, after such a dirty night, made your chest feel warm.

later that day, you were sitting on the grass outside campus with your friends—jungeun, jinsol, and sooyoung. the sun was soft and the air carried the scent of spring. they were all staring at you like a pack of wolves, eyes gleaming with barely-concealed curiosity.

“so…” jungeun started, tilting her head, “are you going to keep avoiding our questions, or are you finally going to spill?”

“you kept your secret very well” jinsol added with a smirk. “you disappeared overnight and came back all smiley and glowing. bitch, don’t lie.”

you looked away, sipping your iced tea and trying to play it cool. “we’ve just been hanging out… it’s nothing serious.”

“nothing serious my ass,” sooyoung said, lying on her back and shielding her eyes from the sun. “ you think we don't remember how you got when he arrived at the party?”

you blushed furiously, heart pounding, but tried to keep your tone steady. “i’m not giving you the details. and definitely not about that.”

jinsol groaned. “come on. we just want to know one thing.”

“is his dick as perfect as we imagine?” jungeun whispered dramatically, making everyone laugh.

you covered your face with your hands. “i’m not talking about his dick.”

“that’s not a no,” sooyoung chimed in.

you tried not to laugh, cheeks burning. “we’ve only gone out a couple times. that’s all.”

jinsol leaned in closer. “i think it’s only a matter of time before you two become official. honestly, he seems like he really likes you.”

but sooyoung shook her head. “nah. not yet. she hasn’t gotten over dong sicheng.”

that name hit you like a soft, invisible bruise. you looked down at your drink, lips pressed together.

“he was just… a phase,” you muttered.

sooyoung arched a brow. “a phase you’ve been stuck on for like a year.”

“he never liked me like that anyway,” you said, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice. “i was just his art buddy. his therapist. his background character.”

“yeah, well,” jungeun said gently, “maybe jaehyun’s your plot twist.”

you didn’t reply. but for a moment, you let yourself imagine that possibility. and it didn’t feel so far-fetched.

“actually,” jungeun chimed in, casually tossing a piece of grass into the air, “i heard something about sicheng.”

your head snapped in her direction before you could stop yourself. your heart skipped and thumped oddly in your chest.

“yeah?” you tried to sound indifferent, but the way your voice wavered betrayed you.

“mhm,” she said, glancing at the others. “one of the girls from the art department told me he’s coming back this semester. apparently he finally sorted out his exchange paperwork.”

“guess you’ll be bumping into him again,” sooyoung said, nudging your shoulder with a teasing smirk. “don’t go falling all over him again. please use your brain this time.”

“i didn’t—” you started, but then just sighed. “i know.”

jinsol gave you a knowing look. “well, i hope you don’t fuck it up with jaehyun over some old fantasy. like… jaehyun’s not just hot. he’s actually a good guy.”

sooyoung snorted. “a hot guy with a career path and muscle definition that could resurrect me.”

“he’s not just hot,” jungeun added, more serious. “he’s crazy talented. my brother’s obsessed with local sports and he says jaehyun’s a legend around here. three-time regional boxing champ. undefeated.”

you blinked. “wait, really?”

“mmhmm,” she said. “he’s been competing for like three years straight. he’s got insane discipline. trains daily, eats clean, sleeps early unless he’s too busy fucking you apparently—ow!” she laughed when you slapped her thigh in protest.

but your mind was already conjuring images… jaehyun in the ring, sweat dripping from his brow, his jaw set with sharp focus. his body gleaming under the lights—broad shoulders, cut arms, those tight abs tensing as he dodges, lunges, throws a punch. bruises on his ribs, a scratch near his lip, blood maybe on the edge of his gloves. heat rises to your cheeks as the image lingers—his body slightly damaged but so undeniably alive and powerful, all for something he loves.

he wasn’t just hot. he was dedicated. passionate. and god, he looked good doing it.

sooyoung sighed dramatically beside you. “i want a boyfriend like that. good body. good face. and a dick that ruins lives.”

“jesus christ,” jinsol muttered, snorting into her drink.

“what?” sooyoung shrugged. “i’m just saying. it’s the dream.”

you shook your head, cheeks flushed. “he’s not my boyfriend.”

they all stared at you.

“yet,” jungeun said, grinning.

you looked down at your phone, pretending to be unbothered, but the way your stomach flipped said otherwise.

not your boyfriend. not officially.

but the way he touched you. the way he looked at you like you mattered—like he saw more than just sex.

it made you wonder.

what if he could be?

at sunset, you’re waiting just outside the university gym, sitting on the edge of a planter box as the warm, golden light spills across the campus. the air still holds a trace of the day’s heat, but it's softened now, carried gently by the evening breeze. your phone buzzes in your lap, but you ignore it, eyes focused on the gym entrance.

jaehyun walks out a moment later, his presence like gravity pulling your attention. he’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt that clings slightly to his damp skin, khaki shorts that show off his toned legs, and worn white sneakers. his training bag is slung over one shoulder, and droplets of water still trail from the ends of his freshly washed hair. he must’ve taken a quick shower after practice. his smile is soft, those signature dimples showing as he spots you.

“you ready to head to the apartment?” he asks, stopping in front of you. his voice is calm, smooth, like there's no rush.

“yeah, but… before that, i want to take you out to eat,” you say as you stand, brushing your hands over your clothes.

his brows raise slightly in surprise. “why?”

you shift your weight from one foot to the other. “i just… it’s a thank you. for taking me to the motel, for getting me food, for extending the time. and now you’re letting me stay at your place, so…” you trail off, cheeks heating up.

he tilts his head, eyes searching yours. “you don’t have to do that. it wasn’t a big deal.”

you bite your lip and shrug. “well, it is to me. no guy’s ever treated me like that before, so… i thought it’d be important.”

that seems to catch him off guard. he stares at you for a second longer, then nods. “alright. i’ll let you treat me. but don’t expect me to be easy to impress,” he teases, the corners of his mouth lifting.

you smile, relieved. “what’s your favorite food?”

he thinks for a second, then frowns. “i don’t really have one. i’ve been on a strict diet lately since i’ve got more tournaments coming up.”

your jaw drops slightly. “what do you mean you don’t have a favorite food? come on.”

he chuckles. “i’m serious. everything’s been about protein, greens, hydration… it’s been pretty boring.”

“that’s tragic,” you say with mock seriousness. “you’re in your twenties and you’re telling me you don’t even crave ramen or tteokbokki?”

“okay, fine,” he laughs. “i haven’t had kimbap in forever. does that count?”

you grin. “perfect. i know this place that makes really good kimbap.”

a little while later, you’re both seated at a small table in a cozy street-side diner. the kimbap comes out quickly, warm and fresh, and jaehyun’s eyes light up when he takes the first bite.

“this is really good,” he says with a satisfied sigh.

“you look happy,” you tease, watching the way he leans back in his seat, finally relaxed.

he nods, swallowing. “i am. i’ve got a big fight coming up—i’ll be up against a nationally ranked fighter. if i win, i’ll qualify for the majors.”

your eyes widen. “that’s huge! jaehyun, oh my god, congratulations!”

he rubs the back of his neck, clearly flustered by your excitement. “thanks… i’m trying not to jinx it.”

“you’re gonna crush it. you’re so disciplined and talented—seriously, it’s inspiring.” you smile at him, and it’s completely honest.

he goes quiet for a second, then looks down with a tiny smile of his own. he’s blushing. the tough, cocky boxer—blushing.

“you’re really bad at taking compliments, huh?” you say, laughing gently.

“maybe,” he replies with a grin, nudging your foot under the table. “but i don’t mind it when it’s you.”

you finish eating with that warm, playful tension between you, the kind that always seems to build whenever you’re with him.

you're walking beside jaehyun along the crowded sidewalk, the sun already sinking low, casting an orange glow on the buildings around you. he’s telling you something about a professor at the university who never shows up on time, and you’re half-listening, half-distracted by the soft drip of water from his hair. he smells faintly of soap and cologne, clean and warm. you smile at the way his voice hums, deep and casual.

but then, suddenly—

“jaehyun!” a bright, feminine voice cuts through the air.

before you can even turn, there’s a girl jumping on him—literally throwing her arms around his neck. you blink, startled, and take a step back. jaehyun catches her easily, like it’s nothing, one of his hands settling on her waist, holding her with casual familiarity. his smile grows wider, those pretty dimples showing instantly.

“noona, what are you doing here?” he asks, clearly happy to see her.

“i came to visit some friends,” she says sweetly, brushing her shiny, curled hair behind her ear. her eyes flick down his body like she’s assessing him. “you’ve gotten taller… or maybe just your shoulders?” she teases, reaching out to squeeze his bicep without hesitation.

you feel something twist in your chest. it’s hot and petty, and you know it, but still—you don’t like the way she’s touching him. you don’t like how close they are. how… familiar they are.

is she his girlfriend?

the thought hits you like a slap. no. no way. that would be cruel—after what you and jaehyun did… after he held you and kissed you and let you ride him like you were the only girl in the world.

the girl finally looks at you. her face lights up with surprise and a sly sparkle in her eyes. she's polished—makeup flawless, glossed lips, expensive jewelry. everything about her screams elegance. you suddenly feel plain in comparison.

“oh?” she says, eyeing you. “are you jaehyun’s girlfriend?”

your stomach drops. but at the same time, some part of you feels… relieved. so she isn't his girlfriend.

“ah… she’s…” jaehyun starts slowly, glancing at you, voice uncertain. “she’s my friend.”

“nice to meet you!” she chirps, stepping forward and taking both your hands enthusiastically. “i’m miyeon, jaehyun’s childhood friend.”

“a-ah… i’m y/n. nice to meet you too,” you say, barely holding your voice steady.

miyeon turns back to him with a soft pout. “jaehyun, you should bring y/n to our store sometime. you haven’t visited in so long.”

“i will. soon,” he says, his tone easy, but not committed. she beams and clings to his arm again, pressing against him in a way that makes your skin burn.

after a bit more small talk, she waves goodbye, and you and jaehyun continue walking. you’re quiet. so is he.

the train ride is short, but quiet too. you’re still chewing on the jealousy simmering low in your stomach. you don’t say a word until you’re back on the street again, just a few blocks from his apartment.

“jaehyun,” you say suddenly, stopping in your tracks.

he turns to face you, brows lifted.

you stand still for a second, then open your arms slightly—awkwardly. as if you’re asking for a hug.

he doesn’t hesitate.

jaehyun steps into you and wraps his arms around your body, holding you close. you melt into his chest.

“are you copying my noona?” he teases softly against your hair.

you shake your head lightly, but your cheeks are burning.

he leans back just enough to look into your eyes. “now i really can’t wait to get home,” he says with a grin and a very obvious double meaning.

you scoff and push him back a little, pretending to be annoyed—but you’re not. not really.

jaehyun unlocks the front door with one hand, still carrying his gym bag over his shoulder. he nudges the door open with his foot, letting you step in first. the place smells faintly of laundry detergent and cedarwood. it’s clean but lived-in, with a few scattered training wraps on the floor and a row of protein bottles lined up neatly on a shelf.

“make yourself at home,” he says, dropping his bag with a dull thud. “my roommate, junhoe, isn’t here. he’s probably off fucking his girl somewhere.”

you chuckle, still standing in the entryway.

jaehyun walks ahead, opening a side door. “this is the study,” he says, gesturing. it’s a small room, barely wide enough to fit a desk and some shelves, but there’s a window with good light and it smells like old books. “i can clean it up and maybe get a futon or something in here if you’re staying.”

you nod slowly, looking around, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. he’s leaned in the doorway now, watching you with that lazy, unreadable gaze, the same one he used to look at you that night at the motel—right before you climbed into his lap.

“there’s an extra mattress in my room,” he adds casually, but his mouth quirks up in a smirk that gives him away. “wanna see?”

you raise a brow. “you’re so subtle, jaehyun.”

he laughs, voice low and warm, and then turns on his heel. you follow him down the short hallway to his bedroom. the lights are dimmed, his bed already made, a dark gray comforter spread out neatly. he gestures toward the corner, where a folded mattress leans against the wall. “see? told you.”

but you’re not looking at the mattress.

you’re looking at him.

at the way the veins in his arms stretch as he runs a hand through his damp hair. at the way his shirt clings to the firm lines of his torso. at the faint red bruise just below his jaw—probably from sparring, but it looks like something you'd want to kiss.

“do you want to shower first?” he asks, turning back to you.

you shake your head. "i already showered earlier.”

“true,” he says, stepping closer. “but that was to wash off the sweat.”

“and this one would be to…”

he’s right in front of you now. inches away. his voice drops to a whisper.

“to get dirty again.”

you don’t move. you just look at him, look at the slight twitch in his jaw, the way his eyes flick to your lips. then you reach out, grab the hem of his shirt, and lift it over his head in one slow, steady motion.

jaehyun breathes in sharp and deep as your fingers skim his chest. his body is insane—broad shoulders, thick arms, chest hard as stone and wrapped in smooth golden skin. faint bruises pepper his ribs, evidence of training, and you drag your hands over one without thinking.

“you’re really something else,” you murmur.

“so are you,” he says hoarsely, fingers already at the waistband of your jeans.

clothes come off fast after that.

you fall together onto the mattress, his mouth hungry on yours. he kisses you like he’s starving, hands exploring, groping, dragging down your back. he moans against your lips when you grind your hips down on his thigh, searching for friction.

then he flips you over.

pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other tracing down your stomach, between your legs.

“still wet,” he murmurs. “even though i haven’t touched you in hours.”

“shut up,” you pant, arching your back.

he chuckles and lowers his head. his mouth finds your neck, your collarbone, your breasts—licking, sucking, biting just enough to leave a mark. you cry out when his fingers finally slide between your folds, slick and slow.

“shit, baby,” he whispers. “you feel so fucking good.”

“then stop teasing me,” you groan.

he smirks. “as you wish.”

and then he’s inside you.

thick. hot. stretching you open all over again.

your back bows. his name spills from your lips like a prayer.

he moves slow at first—deep, careful strokes that make you shudder. but then he picks up the pace. harder. faster. his skin slaps against yours, your breath hitching with every thrust. the bed creaks. his grip bruises your hips. and you love it.

“jaehyun—f-fuck—”

“you like that?” he growls, voice wrecked. “you like being fucked like this? like a real good girl?”

you nod, crying out as your orgasm builds.

“i’m close,” you moan, nails digging into his back.

“come for me, baby,” he pants, kissing your lips hard. “i wanna feel you come around me.”

and you do.

it hits you fast, hard, white-hot.

your whole body trembles. he follows right after, gasping your name, burying himself deep inside you with one final thrust.

you lay there for a while, tangled together, sweat cooling on your skin.

his arms wrapped around you.

his lips brushing your forehead.

jaehyun is quiet for a long time after he comes, his chest rising and falling against yours as he tries to steady his breathing.

the room is dim, but you can feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his arms tighten around you, protective and gentle. he nuzzles into your neck, his lips brushing the damp skin there, not in a sexual way this time—more like he's grounding himself in your presence. you lie there, tangled up in sheets and each other, the only sound being the soft hum of the ceiling fan and your hearts calming down in sync.

he eventually pulls away just enough to look at you, eyes hooded but soft, and his fingers trace down the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “are you okay?” he whispers, voice a little raspy, a little concerned.

you nod, smiling faintly, and reach up to cup his cheek. “yeah. just... full. in every way.”

his lips quirk into a crooked smile and he kisses your forehead. “good.” he stands, stretching just a bit before grabbing a clean towel from a nearby shelf. he wipes you down carefully, not rushing, not skipping a beat. he doesn’t say much during it, but the way he handles you—like you’re something delicate, like this moment matters—says everything you need to hear. afterward, he throws the towel into a laundry basket, slips on a pair of loose sweatpants, and pulls a t-shirt over his head. he brings you one of his shirts, big and worn and soft, and you slip it on before curling back into his bed. he climbs in beside you and pulls the blanket over both of you, spooning you close, one hand resting low on your belly, thumb tracing circles into your skin.

you're just starting to doze off in his arms when the front door creaks open and you both hear the familiar thump of sneakers being kicked off.

“yo,” comes a male voice from the hall. jaehyun groans softly and pulls back just enough to peek out from under the blanket.

“junhoe,” he mutters.

a few seconds later, a tall guy with sharp eyes and dyed ash-blond hair pops his head into the room. he freezes when he sees you in bed, cheeks flushing slightly, but he raises a hand in greeting anyway.

“ah... so you finally brought someone home. what’s up?” he says with a knowing smirk.

“shut up,” jaehyun groans.

you sit up slowly, pulling the blanket around yourself as you nod politely. “hi…”

“nice to meet you,” junhoe says. “don’t worry, i’m cool with it. just—maybe not when my girlfriend comes over. she gets… ideas.”

“no problem,” jaehyun replies casually. “i already told her about the study room.”

junhoe raises an eyebrow. “you’re letting her stay here?”

jaehyun just shrugs with that same smirk. “i don’t mind.”

junhoe glances between the two of you and chuckles. “cool. well, i'm grabbing some food and crashing. welcome to the apartment.”

he disappears down the hall and jaehyun flops back down next to you, draping his arm over your waist again. “that went better than i expected.”

“he seems nice,” you murmur, cheek resting against his chest.

jaehyun hums in agreement, and the two of you drift off again—safe, warm, and maybe just a little too comfortable in each other’s arms.

a few days later, you’re at campus, carrying a stack of large framed canvases and a bundle of messy supplies balanced precariously in your arms. you’re on your way to return everything to the storage room after a long morning in the art studio, still wearing a paint-stained hoodie and some old jeans. your focus is on not dropping anything when suddenly, someone rounds the corner at the same time as you—and crashes right into you.

“whoa—shit, sorry!” says a familiar voice as the both of you stumble. your brushes clatter to the ground, but strong arms steady you, grabbing your shoulders gently.

you look up—and your breath catches.

dong sicheng.

he’s smiling, wide and bright, and for a second you almost forget how to speak. his hair is longer now, a little shaggier, his features more defined. he’s still beautiful, unfairly so, but the braces he used to have are gone, replaced by a dazzling, smooth smile. he’s wearing a soft beige sweater and dark slacks, looking expensive in that effortless way he always did. he bends down immediately, helping you pick up your supplies.

“y/n?” he says, looking genuinely happy. “wow—it’s really you”.

“i thought you were on a break?” your voice barely left your mouth.

“i was. but i came back early,” he replies, smiling.

you forcing a smile even though something tugs hard at your chest. “and you… you look great, sicheng.”

he blushes a little, brushing some hair behind his ear. “so do you,” he says, kind as ever. “it’s really good to see you.”

you nod, trying not to let your emotions show. because what are you supposed to say? i missed you. i thought about you more than i should’ve. i wondered what might’ve happened if i’d just said something back then.

but you never did.

and now he’s here, standing in front of you with that same kind warmth in his eyes, and you feel it—nostalgia, longing, something bittersweet blooming in your chest.

you chat for a while, catching up on classes and schedules, and he insists on helping you carry the rest of your things to the storage room. you smile and joke like nothing's off. like you’re not thinking about all the things you never said. because what would be the point now?

still, as he walks beside you, close and careful not to bump your paintings again, you can’t help but glance over at him—at the smile, at the way the sun catches the curve of his jaw.

and you wonder if part of your heart still belongs to him. just a little.

after helping you carry the last of your things to the storage room, sicheng stretches his arms with a quiet sigh and then turns to you with that soft little smile you remember all too well. “hey,” he says, voice gentle, “do you have time for a coffee? i don’t have class until later and… it’d be nice to talk more.”

you hesitate only a second before nodding. “sure. i’d like that.”

you end up at a small café just off campus, tucked between an old bookstore and a flower shop. it’s quiet, the kind of place that smells like roasted beans and cinnamon, with soft music playing through slightly scratchy speakers. you sit by the window, sunlight pouring in and making his hair glow like spun gold. he leans forward on the table, hands wrapped around a cup of matcha, listening to you as you ramble a little about your classes, your projects, the endless deadlines. it feels easy. too easy. almost like the last year never happened.

eventually, curiosity gets the best of you. you glance at him between sips of your drink, then lower your cup and ask, trying to sound casual, “have you been seeing anyone lately?”

he blinks, surprised for a moment. then that smile returns—slow, knowing, maybe even a little amused. “no,” he says. “this year’s been… intense. i’ve been at the dance academy full time, and trying to sort out all the paperwork to get back here took everything out of me.” he shrugs, rolling his cup between his palms. “didn’t leave much space for dating.”

you nod, trying to hide how fast your heart is beating.

“besides,” he adds, his gaze locking onto yours, “there was no one in china who really caught my attention.”

his words hit you in the chest, knocking the air out of your lungs in a way that doesn’t hurt but leaves you speechless. it’s not just what he says—it’s the way he says it, the way his eyes hold yours like he’s daring you to admit something, like he’s just waiting for you to fall into the trap he’s carefully set with his smile and his calm.

you clear your throat. “well… me neither,” you say softly. “no dating. i’ve been really focused on school and, i guess… there’s no one who really stands out to me either.”

he raises his eyebrows a little, his lips curling as if to say “really?” but he doesn’t push. instead, he changes the subject with a soft laugh. “i need to cut my hair soon. i’ve been meaning to, but with everything going on i haven’t had time to rest, let alone make an appointment.”

you hum in agreement, letting your eyes drift over his face, the softness in his features, the way his lashes catch the light.

“but i’m really glad we got to catch up today,” he says, brushing a thumb over the rim of his cup. “i missed this. i missed talking to you. i hope we get to take some classes together this term—maybe even work on a project again. like the old days.”

your heart skips. not in a dramatic, crashing way, but in a quiet flutter that you try not to show on your face. you smile instead, nodding, and say, “yeah. me too.”

the walk back to jaehyun’s place is a blur. your body’s moving through the city, but your mind’s still in that café, replaying the way sicheng looked at you, the calm certainty in his voice, the not-so-innocent way he said there was no one who caught his eye. you keep wondering—was he just being nice? was he flirting? was it real? it shouldn’t matter, not after everything with jaehyun, not when you’ve already crossed that line with someone else… but your heart doesn’t care about timing, or logic, or consequences. it only knows the warm ache of “what if.”

you don’t even realize you’ve arrived until you hear jaehyun’s voice calling out from inside the apartment. “y/n? you’re back?”

you step in, taking off your shoes as the door closes behind you, and he appears from the hallway looking a little flushed, a rag in his hand and a faint sheen of sweat on his neck. “i was just cleaning the studio for you,” he says, waving toward the small room down the hall. “it’s not huge, but with the light in there and some organizing, it’ll be perfect.”

you walk in behind him, noticing how he’s already cleared space in the corner, set up a small table for your supplies, even propped one of your canvases against the wall. on the floor, there’s a mattress laid out neatly with a pillow and blanket, and he turns to you a little sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“i, uh… i don’t have a bed frame for the extra mattress yet,” he says. “but don’t worry, i’m not gonna make you sleep like that. not when you're my guest.” he gestures toward his bedroom. “so, you’ll sleep with me. i mean—not like with me,” he adds quickly, ears turning red, “just, you know… in my room, you can have the bed if you want. i don’t mind sleeping here.”

you shake your head immediately. “i don’t want to take your space. it’s your room.”

but he just smiles at you, warm and sincere, and steps a little closer. “hey. you’re not taking anything. i want you to be comfortable here. i want you to feel like this is your space too, even if it’s temporary.” he looks at you for a long second, and then adds softly, “having you here… it already makes this place feel a little more like home.”

and just like that, something in your chest tightens—not painfully, but deep. a pull of affection, of something dangerous and familiar. you swallow hard, nodding, and whisper, “thank you, jaehyun.”

he grins, brushing his shoulder lightly against yours before walking off to put away the cleaning supplies, leaving you standing in the doorway of your new studio, heart full of too many things at once.

later that night, after unpacking the essentials and arranging a few of your supplies in the corner, you finally let yourself take a shower. the heat is unbearable—sticky and heavy, like it’s pressing against your skin—and jaehyun’s bathroom fills with steam almost immediately. you linger under the cold stream, letting it cool your body, calm your thoughts, and ease some of the tension still wound tightly in your chest after everything with sicheng.

you dry off and change into the lightest clothes you brought for sleeping: an old, thin cotton shirt and a pair of soft, loose shorts. no bra. it’s too hot, and your skin still feels tender from the shower. you gather your damp hair in a loose bun and step out into the hallway barefoot, following the quiet hum of a fan.

you find jaehyun in the studio—his new temporary bedroom for as long as you're staying. he’s sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him, leaning back on his hands with a small oscillating fan blowing directly at his face. his black sleeveless shirt clings to his chest and shoulders, damp from sweat. the fabric is tight, showing off the sharp lines of his arms and torso, and the light gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips do nothing to distract from the way he looks: hot, flushed, and visibly uncomfortable.

you pause at the doorway, arms folded loosely across your chest, and tilt your head. “you look like you’re suffering.”

he turns to you, blinking slowly, his eyes dragging down your frame. you watch him swallow before giving you a small smile, breathless and sheepish. “yeah, the fan’s not doing much. this room is like an oven.”

you glance toward the hallway, then back at him. “you should sleep in your room. it’s cooler in there, and the a/c works. seriously, jaehyun, this heat could make you sick.”

he shakes his head, lifting a hand to wipe sweat from his neck. “i want you to be comfortable. you’re my guest, and that room’s yours now. i’ll be fine.”

you sigh, stepping further inside and lowering yourself beside him onto the mattress, knees brushing. “you’re being stubborn.”

“maybe,” he says softly, then adds with a smirk, “but you look cozy.”

you shrug, glancing down at your own body without thinking. the thin shirt clings to the curve of your chest, damp in places from residual heat and humidity. when you look back at him, his gaze has dropped—locked onto your chest, pupils darkening as his lips part just slightly.

his hand shifts, subtle and tentative, reaching as if to graze the side of your breast with the back of his fingers.

your reaction is immediate—you swat his hand away with a light slap, not harsh but firm enough to snap him out of it.

“don’t,” you say, voice low, a touch breathless. “they hurt.”

he blinks, confused. “they hurt?”

you nod, rubbing your arms. “since that night. i don’t know why. my nipples have been… sensitive. sore.”

he looks up at you again, something like guilt flickering across his face, mixed with an almost embarrassing curiosity. “shit. i didn’t know. i didn’t mean to—”

“i know,” you interrupt gently. “but i mean it. they’re really sensitive. it’s not just a little sore—it’s like… they get too sensitive to touch. even clothes feel like too much sometimes.”

the fan whirs between you, filling the silence with soft mechanical noise. his shoulder brushes yours as you sit side by side on the mattress, skin still too warm, hearts beating louder than they should.

then, softly, he leans closer. “can we… do it quietly?”

his voice is almost a whisper, barely audible above the fan, like he’s afraid of breaking the tension between you.

you turn to him with wide eyes. “jaehyun…”

he watches your face, eager but trying to be patient. “junhoe’s already asleep. he won’t hear a thing,” he murmurs. “and it’s not like he doesn’t know what we’ve been doing.”

you hesitate, biting your lip. “still, it wouldn’t be… appropriate.”

he smiles a little, tilting his head as he murmurs, “maybe not. but that’s never stopped us before.”

he shifts slightly, and that’s when you see it— the prominent bulge straining against the front of his sweatpants, thick and pressing insistently against the fabric.

your breath catches. your lips part unconsciously, tongue darting out to wet them as you swallow, hard.

your body betrays your logic—heat coils low in your stomach, and your thighs instinctively press together.

“…maybe,” you murmur, glancing away as if that could tame the look in his eyes, “we can be quiet…”

jaehyun doesn’t need more than that.

he leans in, hand cupping the back of your neck as he kisses you deeply, hot and hungry and slow. your mouths move together in perfect rhythm, muffled moans swallowed into each other as his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. his palms are warm—calloused in places—and they glide up your ribs, dragging goosebumps in their wake until his thumbs brush beneath your breasts, avoiding your nipples carefully, remembering your earlier words.

you arch into him, knees parting as he presses you down onto the mattress, his body heavy and hot above yours. his sweatpants are tugged down just enough to free himself, and he groans softly against your neck as you reach down, wrap your hand around his length, guiding him to your entrance.

the stretch is slow, agonizingly deep. your breath hitches, nails curling into his back as your thighs lock around his waist.

“fuck,” he whispers, teeth grazing your ear. “so wet for me already.”

you hush him with a kiss, the angle messy and desperate. each roll of his hips is slow, controlled, but the pressure builds so fast you’re gasping into his mouth, fingers fisting the sheet beside you as you fight to stay quiet. his hand snakes between your bodies, fingers circling your clit with just enough pressure to have your body trembling beneath him.

he fucks you through it—deep, slow thrusts that have you clenching around him as you come, mouth open in a silent moan, your body arching into his until you feel like you're floating.

he follows soon after, muffling his own release into your shoulder, breathing ragged, his arms wrapped tightly around you like he never wants to let go.

afterwards, he doesn't move for a while—just rests his forehead against yours, his weight a comforting pressure, your bodies still joined, slick with heat and sweat and something much more tender.

“still too hot?” you whisper, brushing his damp hair back.

he chuckles softly, kissing your cheek. “worth it.”

the morning sun filters through the soft curtains, warming the kitchen tiles beneath your bare feet. you’re already awake, hair loosely tied, moving about quietly in the oversized shirt you changed out of earlier and a casual, short dress—something comfortable and light for the heat. the apartment is still drowsy, silent except for the sound of the pan sizzling and the gentle clinking of utensils as you prepare breakfast.

jaehyun appears behind you, shirtless, with messy hair and sleep still heavy in his eyes. he blinks, confused for a second, before a small smile pulls at his lips. “you’re already up?”

you glance over your shoulder and smile. “yeah. figured it was the least i could do. i’m taking over your space, after all.” you point to the neatly arranged plates on the counter. “i made something special for you—salmon, asparagus with a bit of lemon zest, egg whites with spinach, and some avocado toast. something clean, for your athlete diet.”

he flushes a little, eyes dropping to the food, then back to you. “you didn’t have to—”

“i wanted to.”

he doesn’t answer. instead, he steps closer, so close you feel the heat of his body behind you. his hands find your waist first, then glide up slowly, until his palms cup your breasts. his touch is careful, slow, fingers massaging softly, like he’s remembering what you told him about how sore they’ve been since you had sex. you exhale sharply, feeling the pull in your belly again.

“jaehyun…” you murmur, shifting slightly. “stop. junhoe could see.”

he leans in, presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear. “he won’t be up for hours.”

but just then, a loud voice echoes down the hall. junhoe’s speaking—no, arguing—on the phone. you both freeze. his tone is annoyed, sharp, like he’s trying not to yell.

you push jaehyun back quickly, and he moves just in time to avoid suspicion as junhoe enters the kitchen. his expression shifts the moment he sees you—his frown smoothing into a smile.

“damn,” he says, sniffing the air. “you’re really making this place smell like home. i might need to learn your seasoning secrets.”

you laugh lightly, cheeks a bit pink, and he drops into a chair like the argument never happened. jaehyun joins you near the counter, acting casual, though you can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the ache it left behind.

later, you're sitting in your morning class, a warm cup of coffee on the table beside your sketchpad. it’s quiet, the soft hum of discussion and charcoal against paper filling the room. you’re halfway through shading the curve of a collarbone when a familiar presence draws your gaze toward the door.

sicheng steps in.

his hair is shorter now—freshly cut, the soft brown strands falling over his forehead in a boyish fringe that makes him look impossibly youthful. there's no trace of the braces he used to wear, and his smile is just as warm, just as bright, but somehow… more refined. he’s dressed simply—black jeans, white oversized tee, sneakers still a little scuffed from dance practice. a tote bag hangs off his shoulder, half full of sketchbooks and folded dance clothes.

he notices you instantly, that same spark lighting his eyes. he waves, then walks over to take the seat beside yours like no time has passed. you smile back, but there’s something soft and bittersweet curled in your chest.

it’s strange—how seeing him again stirs all the memories like dust floating in sunlight.

jaehyun is like heat. sharp angles, smoldering glances, quiet control and intensity. he walks like the world bends for him, and he touches you like he owns your skin.

but sicheng is something else entirely.

his presence is gentle. like water, like a breeze, always moving around you instead of through you. he’s soft-spoken, thoughtful, and so expressive through movement—dance or drawing, it doesn’t matter. you don’t have to guess with sicheng. he always let you see him.

you find yourself watching him while he sketches beside you, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth. you wonder if he meant it—what he said yesterday. that no one caught his eye in china. that he was too busy. that he was happy to be back with you.

and yet... you feel a pull in two directions.

your heart remembers how sicheng made you feel—safe, understood, like you were seen. but your body still aches for jaehyun, for the way he touches you, the way he whispers your name like it’s the only thing that matters.

you stare down at your drawing, your pencil hovering just above the page, and wonder how long you can keep walking this tightrope between nostalgia and desire.

the late afternoon light painted soft gold across the pavement as you and sicheng stepped out of the lecture hall, laughter low and easy between the two of you. your sketchbooks were tucked under your arm, the scent of coffee still lingering on your clothes. he said something about the way your shading had improved, and you smiled—genuinely, openly. it felt warm. safe. like home, if home had a heartbeat.

and then you felt it.

the heat of a gaze that wasn’t his.

jaehyun was across the courtyard, leaning against his car, arms crossed over his chest, black hoodie pulled over his head even in the heat. but his eyes—sharp, unrelenting—were fixed on you. or maybe on the way you looked at sicheng, as if he were something sacred, something carved out of soft marble and light.

your smile faltered for half a second. long enough.

jaehyun's brow furrowed, jaw tightening like it was holding back words he didn’t dare speak in public.

you said goodbye to sicheng shortly after, heart already twisting with the weight of what was coming.

the apartment door hadn’t even closed behind you before the silence turned heavy.

“so that’s him?” jaehyun asked from the kitchen, voice flat, almost too casual.

you paused, setting your bag down slowly. “what are you talking about?”

“the guy you were making heart eyes at all afternoon,” he said, turning around. “looked like you were about to drop to your knees and worship him.”

you rolled your eyes, your tone turning defensive. “don’t start.”

he took a step closer, eyes dark. “you really think i wouldn’t notice the way you looked at him? like he was the only person in the fucking world?”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “and what if i did look at him like that? it’s not like you and i are anything.”

the silence after that was deafening.

you saw it—how his expression dropped, like you’d just pulled the rug out from under him. his shoulders tensed, breath hitching.

“so that’s all this is to you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “just... physical?”

you swallowed hard. the answer was on your tongue before you could stop it. “yeah. i thought we were just... blowing off steam. relieving stress.”

jaehyun looked at you like you’d just shattered something sacred. his hand dragged through his hair, a humorless chuckle slipping past his lips as he stared at the floor.

“fuck. i was really out here thinking we were building something,” he muttered. “that maybe... maybe this could be real.”

“jaehyun—”

“do you like him?” he interrupted, voice sharp now. “that guy. do you like him?”

you hesitated.

then nodded.

“yeah,” you said, voice soft but steady. “i think i do.”

he exhaled slowly, like he was trying not to explode. “right.”

you took a shaky breath, your own emotions catching up with you, fingers tightening around the hem of your dress. “maybe it’s better if we stop... whatever this is.”

his head snapped up.

“what?”

“i mean it,” you said. “you’re... you’re rough when we do it, jaehyun. even after i told you my breasts were sore, you still—” your voice cracked. “you kept touching them. like you didn’t listen. like you didn’t care.”

his face twisted in something between guilt and regret. “i didn’t mean to hurt you—i thought you liked it rough.”

“that doesn’t mean you can ignore me when i say something hurts,” you whispered.

he nodded, lips pressed into a line. “i’m sorry,” he said, stepping back. “i didn’t... i never wanted to make you feel like that.”

you stayed still as he grabbed his keys and water bottle from the table, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder.

“i’ve got training,” he said, not looking at you.

then, almost too fast to register, the door slammed shut behind him.

the echo of it left a hollow ache in your chest.

you stood there, alone in the quiet apartment, heart caught somewhere between anger and guilt. you hadn’t meant to hurt him, but the truth needed to be said.

still... it didn’t stop the sting that came with seeing him walk away like that.

and even though you’d been the one to draw the line, the silence he left behind wrapped around you like a second skin, suffocating in all the places he used to touch.

the gym was almost empty.

just the steady thump of fists against heavy bags and the distant hum of a playlist echoing through the padded walls. jaehyun stood alone in one of the back corners, shirt already soaked with sweat, jaw clenched so tightly his temples ached.

he'd been there for nearly an hour. hitting. dodging. repeating.

trying to erase the memory of your voice.

"you’re rough... even after i told you it hurt..."

the words played in loops in his head, louder than the music, louder than his own grunts as he threw punch after punch into the worn leather bag in front of him. his knuckles burned, taped up but raw underneath, wrists aching from the impact. but he didn’t stop.

"maybe it’s better if we stop."

he hit harder.

"you’re not listening."

harder.

"you don’t care."

his chest heaved with every breath, muscles tight, adrenaline pumping like poison in his veins.

"fuck," he growled under his breath, sweat dripping down his temple.

what the hell did you mean he didn’t care?

he did. too much, probably. that was the problem. he'd been trying so hard to show you, to express it in the only language he knew—touch, closeness, giving you his bed, making room for you in his world. but it hadn’t been enough. or maybe it had all been wrong.

and the worst part? he knew he wasn’t bad at this.

he’d never been the guy to leave girls unsatisfied. the girls he’d been with before? breathless, sore, obsessed. they texted him days later, months later, wanting more.

but you—you had made him feel like maybe none of that mattered.

maybe it wasn’t about the moves or the technique or how long he could make you scream.

maybe it was him.

his fists collided with the bag again, this time with a loud crack as one of the seams split slightly.

he didn’t even blink. just kept going.

“fuck,” he spat again, this time louder.

why wasn’t he enough?

why did it hurt so much to see you look at that other guy—sicheng—like he was art? like he was peace? like he was something soft and safe and deserving?

he hit again. again.

his mind raced.

did you think sicheng would be better in bed too?

gentler, sweeter, more “attentive”?

did you imagine him when you touched yourself now?

did you even think of jaehyun at all?

his vision blurred for a second, and before he could stop himself, he released a brutal, full-force punch with both hands—

CRACK.

the bag snapped off its chain and slammed into the floor with a dull, heavy thud.

jaehyun stood there, chest rising and falling rapidly, staring down at the busted bag like it was somehow your face, or maybe his own shame.

blood dripped from a busted knuckle. he didn’t feel it.

all he could hear was the echo of your voice, and the unbearable quiet that had come after you said goodbye.

the rain hadn’t stopped all evening.

you sat curled on the couch, blanket over your legs, scrolling aimlessly on your phone but not really seeing anything. you kept glancing at the window, hoping to hear the elevator ding, or footsteps in the hallway. nothing. just the sound of the storm, the wind howling against the glass, the relentless rhythm of the water beating down.

where is he?

you chewed on your lip, guilt twisting inside your stomach. he said he had training... but that was hours ago.

you hated that you still cared. hated that even after everything you said earlier, you were still worried. still thinking about him.

and then—click.

the front door creaked open.

your head snapped up. footsteps. wet ones.

you got up quickly, padding toward the small hallway, and then you heard it—a cough. rough and dry, followed by another one.

you peeked out.

there he was.

jaehyun stood in the entrance, completely drenched. soaked hair dripping over his forehead, shirt clinging to his body like second skin—completely see-through. every line of muscle beneath visible, his chest heaving slightly from the cold. his shorts were stuck to his thighs, sneakers squishing quietly against the tiles. he looked like a fucking painting. tragic. stunning. broken.

you inhaled sharply.

“you’re soaked,” you said, barely above a whisper.

he looked up at you, blinking water from his lashes. his eyes were tired. dark. unreadable.

you rushed to his room and grabbed the first towel you could find, returning quickly and holding it out for him.

he took it silently, rubbing at his hair with a few quick motions. droplets still clung to his jaw, his collarbones, sliding slowly down his neck, disappearing beneath the curve of his chest.

you stood there, frozen, watching him.

watching the muscles shift beneath his wet shirt as he patted himself dry. your eyes couldn’t help it—traveling from the hollow of his throat, down the sculpted lines of his torso, tracing the trail of water that disappeared into his waistband.

his gaze lifted suddenly, sharp and accusing.

why the fuck is she looking at me like that? like she wants to eat me alive... when she’s the one who ended it.

he didn’t say it. but you saw it. written all over his face.

your throat tightened. “oh— you should take a shower... before you catch a cold.”

his jaw ticked. he looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t.

“yeah,” he muttered. and then, after drying his hands enough not to leave puddles, he walked past you, disappearing into the bathroom.

you stood there, heart racing, the scent of rain and sweat still lingering in the air.

later, when the water had stopped running and you heard his door creak open again, you knocked gently on the wall of his room.

he was sitting on his bed in loose shorts and a hoodie, towel around his neck, hair still damp.

“can we talk?” you asked.

he didn’t look at you, just nodded.

you sat down beside him. the silence stretched long.

“i’m going back the day after tomorrow,” you said softly. “they wrapped up the research earlier than expected.”

he nodded again. “that’s good.”

you felt the ache in your chest grow. heavy and stupid.

“i just wanted to say... thank you,” you continued, voice a little unsteady. “for letting me stay. for everything. i know things got complicated but... you didn’t have to be so generous. and still, you were.”

jaehyun looked at you then, something unreadable in his eyes.

“it was nothing,” he said. then after a pause, added, “i really did enjoy having you here.”

you blinked.

having you here.

did he mean sharing space? or sharing bodies? or something in between?

you didn’t ask. you couldn’t.

because suddenly, the idea of leaving felt like dragging a blade through your own chest.

but you smiled anyway. and nodded.

"me too..."

that night, the apartment was quiet—too quiet, except for the constant hum of the fan coming from the studio. It was the only sign that jaehyun was still there, locked away in that room like he wanted to disappear into the heat and noise.

you stood in the kitchen, stirring the last touches of the dinner you had prepared. the scent of garlic and herbs filled the air, but your appetite was gone. all you could think about was how everything was coming to an end. that in just two days, you’d be gone. back to your place. back to your normal life.

without him.

the thought squeezed your chest.

why did we let it end like this?

but maybe it was for the best. things were getting complicated… you were starting to feel something, and not just for jaehyun. sicheng’s soft smile haunted your thoughts more than it should. and it felt wrong. it felt like you were betraying someone, and you didn’t even know who anymore.

you walked toward the studio and gently knocked on the door.

"jaehyun," you said softly. "dinner’s ready."

a moment passed before you heard his voice, rough but calm. "i’m not eating dinner. i’m cutting it three weeks before the tournament."

you frowned. "three weeks? that’s hardcore."

"it helps me stay in weight class," he answered. "and sharp."

"you’re really impressive," you said honestly. "so disciplined… i don’t think i could sleep on an empty stomach."

you heard the lightest chuckle from inside. it made your lips curve, a warmth blooming in your chest.

"i was thinking," you added. "it’s getting really hot in there. why don’t you sleep in your room tonight?"

silence.

then his voice, slower this time: "i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. not after earlier."

"it doesn’t make me uncomfortable," you admitted, a little too fast. "what makes me feel worse is knowing you're locked in there, sweating your ass off just to keep distance from me."

more silence.

later that night, you watched him drag the extra mattress into the room. he didn’t say much. neither did you. he just placed it gently on the floor and started setting it up like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you crawled into your bed and faced the wall, but you could feel him there. his presence, his breath, his energy.

he was trying to give you space.

and it hurt.

was he doing this because you asked him to? or because he really didn’t want to be close anymore?

you closed your eyes, but sleep didn’t come.

not with your body still remembering the feel of his mouth.

not with your heart aching like this.

the room was still, humid with tension. jaehyun's mattress lay across from your bed, a quiet symbol of the space now between you. you could hear his breathing, steady and calm, and for a moment you wondered if he was already asleep.

you weren’t.

your skin was hot, your thoughts restless. every little thing about the day had only stirred the ache further. the weight of goodbye, the ghost of his mouth on yours, the memory of his body—

"jaehyun?" you whispered.

there was a pause. then, his voice, low and a little raspy: "yeah?"

you hesitated, fingers curling into the bedsheet. "can you… kiss me? just once more?"

a breath caught in his throat. "what?"

"just one last time," you whispered again, barely audible. “before i leave.”

he didn’t answer, not with words. you heard the rustle of his blanket, the shift of his weight. then he stood, walking across the room and sitting beside you. in the dark, you felt his hand brush your cheek. you leaned into it.

his kiss came soft, uncertain at first. lips barely moving. a farewell. a memory in the making.

then it deepened—sweet, aching, slow. his tongue gently parted your lips, as if savoring the moment. like he didn’t want to let it go. you moaned softly against his mouth, hands sliding up his shoulders, fingertips grazing the curve of his neck.

his hands followed the lines of your body, but he didn’t push—just held you, like he wanted to memorize how you felt under his fingertips.

you guided one of his hands downward, over your ribs, across your stomach, lower, until his palm was between your thighs, pressed over your heat.

he froze, breath stalling.

"you're wet," he whispered, stunned. his forehead touched yours. "can i kiss you there?"

your thighs shifted, your core pulsing beneath his touch. and even though the rational part of you screamed don’t, your lips whispered something else— "yes... please."

he didn’t hesitate. slowly, he slid down the bed, pushing the covers aside, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs as his hands gently separated them. your legs trembled as he settled between them, breath ghosting over your already soaked folds. you were burning. aching. breathless with anticipation.

"you’re so fucking sweet," he murmured, lips brushing just above your clit. "i’ll be gentle this time. promise."

his tongue met your heat like he’d been dying for this. slow, deliberate licks, tracing you open, savoring your taste like a man starved. his mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked softly, making your hips jerk against him, a gasp torn from your lips. you slapped a hand over your mouth to stay quiet—junhoe was still in the apartment—but your body refused to obey.

"baby..." he whispered, licking a stripe down your slit. "you said this was the last time... but how am i supposed to let go of this?"

you whimpered as his fingers joined the party, slipping two inside you with sinful precision. they moved in rhythm with his mouth, hitting that sweet spot over and over, your thighs shaking around his head.

you were going to come. embarrassingly fast. "fuck, j-jaehyun—" "i got you," he mumbled, voice deep and thick against your core. "just let go. i want to feel you fall apart for me one last time."

your body obeyed his words before your mind could catch up. the orgasm rolled over you like a wave—deep, warm, toe-curling. you bucked against his mouth, clenching around his fingers, moaning into the pillow to muffle your cries.

when you finally stilled, breath ragged, skin damp with sweat, he kissed your inner thigh again. gentle. reverent.

he crawled back up, resting beside you, lips swollen, eyes dark but soft.

you looked at him. flushed, breathless, wrecked by his mouth, and yet aching for more.

"that wasn’t just a kiss," you whispered.

"no," he said, brushing your hair off your face. "it was me showing you that i fucking meant it. all of it."

the next day, you were in class, sitting beside sicheng. the room smelled like linseed oil and graphite, the mellow scent of the arts building you’d come to love. your hands moved across the canvas, sketching lines with soft, deliberate strokes—though your mind was far from focused.

he leaned over you, reaching for a box of charcoals, and your hands brushed. just a moment. just fingertips. but it sent a shiver up your spine. later, as you both reached for the same jar of solvent, your elbows bumped, and you felt his warm breath near your cheek. again, it seemed like a coincidence, but every little contact made your stomach tighten.

you tried to concentrate, to breathe through the rising heat in your chest, but your thoughts kept pulling you back to last night. to Jaehyun. to the weight of his body. the sound of his voice when he was between your thighs. the way your name left his lips like a prayer and a plea.

you hadn’t even realized you’d been staring into nothing until sicheng turned slightly, studying your expression.

"you're distracted," he said softly, his voice like silk. “you’ve redrawn the same line five times.”

you gave a small, dry laugh and shook your head. “i guess i’m just… tired.”

he tilted his head, that same calm, unreadable smile dancing on his lips. “that’s not the look of someone who’s just tired. that’s the look of someone who keeps thinking about someone else.”

your heart skipped. his gaze was gentle, but piercing. he saw right through you.

you lowered your head, hiding the flush that rose to your cheeks. “i don’t want to talk about it,” you whispered with a sad smile.

he didn’t push. he just nodded. “okay,” he said simply. “but you should come tomorrow night. the dance club has a small showcase. nothing formal. just movement and music. might help you get out of your head for a while.”

you nodded slowly. he lifted a hand and gently placed it on your forehead, checking your temperature.

“no fever,” he murmured. “but something’s definitely burning in there.”

you almost melted from that touch, so full of care. that was sicheng—soft-spoken, graceful, thoughtful. so different from jaehyun, whose touch burned like wildfire and left you gasping.

sicheng’s energy was gentle rain.

jaehyun’s was summer lightning.

when you got back to the apartment, the day had started to fade. you were packing up your things—your sketchbooks, your clothes, the small souvenirs you’d collected during your stay. junhoe was outside, laughing with his girlfriend. jaehyun was still at training. he had warned you it would be intense this week, but told you to call him if you needed anything.

even after everything, he was still… good to you.

you ate alone. showered. and the silence of the apartment began to settle in your bones. it wasn’t just the heat that made your skin feel flushed—it was something deeper. more primal. your thighs rubbed together with a soft friction as you walked around your room, and the sensation only made things worse.

lying in bed, your mind betrayed you. you thought of his voice, his mouth, his hands on you. the way he’d whispered your name while he kissed down your body.

you shouldn't. you shouldn't. but your body ached. your fingers slipped under your shorts, brushing over sensitive skin. your breath caught. then deepened.

you moaned softly, barely biting down the sound. "jaehyun..." you whimpered his name like a secret, hips twitching, your core wet and throbbing from the memory.

you were too far gone to hear the knock at the door. too caught in the heat building between your thighs to register the voice on the other side.

“y/n?” jaehyun’s voice came again, more firm. “i’m coming in.”

you didn’t hear him.

so he opened the door.

and froze.

you were sprawled on the bed, your body arched, your fingers deep inside, glistening with your own need. you were panting, whispering his name in broken sighs, eyes shut tight.

his jaw clenched. his chest rose and fell rapidly as he stood there, rain still dripping from his hair. he hadn't even changed out of his workout clothes yet.

you opened your eyes.

and saw him.

the heat rushed to your face, but your body didn’t stop. not yet.

he stared at you like he couldn’t breathe.

you licked your lips, chest heaving.

“close the door,” you said softly, voice trembling, not from shame—but from desire.

jaehyun stood frozen for a heartbeat, rainwater dripping from his hair onto his shoulders, again, dark patches spreading across his shirt where sweat met humidity. his eyes devoured you—spread open, soaked with need, your fingers still buried in your pussy, slick and glistening under the dim light of your bedside lamp.

he moved.

the door clicked shut behind him.

you watched the muscles in his arms flex as his hand remained on the knob for just a second longer, as if trying to convince himself to stay on that side of the threshold. but it was too late. he had already seen you. already heard the way you moaned his name like a hunger. there was no turning back now.

he took one step, then another, until he was standing at the edge of the bed.

your fingers stilled, but didn’t leave your core. you kept your eyes on him, testing him. daring him.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you whispered, throat dry. “about your mouth... your hands…”

his breath hitched.

then, as if that snapped the leash he’d been holding all day, he moved. fast.

he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, his large hands sliding under your thighs, pulling you to the edge like you weighed nothing. his eyes locked with yours—dark, intense, but still seeking permission.

you nodded.

“say it,” he rasped, his lips barely touching the inside of your thigh. “tell me i can taste you.”

“please,” you breathed. “i need your mouth on me… now.”

he groaned like a starving man given his first taste, and then he was on you.

his tongue swept over your folds in one slow, deliberate lick that made your entire body shudder. his grip on your thighs tightened, spreading you further, anchoring you against the mattress. he licked you again, then again, teasing the edges of your clit before finally sucking it between his lips and giving it the attention you were dying for.

you cried out, your back arching, one hand flying to his hair, gripping it as you rolled your hips into his face. he moaned against you, the vibration shooting up your spine like lightning.

“f-fuck, jae,” you gasped, legs already trembling.

he hummed in response, pulling you closer, burying his face deeper between your thighs. his tongue flicked, circled, then flattened against your clit in slow, rhythmic pressure that made your stomach twist in the best way.

and then—one finger slid inside you. then another.

you clenched around him with a moan that echoed off the walls.

he fucked you with his fingers as his tongue worked your clit like he knew every nerve ending in your body. it was too much. it wasn’t enough. your moans got louder, needier, your hips grinding into his mouth.

you were so close.

“i’m gonna—jaehyun, i—!”

he sucked hard, curling his fingers just right—

and you shattered.

your thighs clamped around his head, your scream muffled by your own palm as your orgasm tore through you like a wave crashing, your body convulsing in pleasure as you rode his mouth, unable to stop the way you trembled.

he held you through it, slow and patient, licking you gently, easing you down with soft kisses and slow fingers until your body finally collapsed against the bed, boneless and buzzing.

when he finally pulled back, his mouth was glistening with you. his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, his eyes dark and wild.

and then, he leaned up and whispered against your lips—

“your turn to taste me.”

the next morning came quicker than you'd hoped. the sun barely kissed the windows when you were already up, heart still aching with confusion, with memories—tender and hot—that clung to your skin like ghostly hands. you got dressed in something simple, but lovely. not for anyone in particular, or so you told yourself… but deep down, you knew better. for him. maybe.

the chinese classical dance showcase was held in the university’s small theater, adorned with flowing red curtains and warm lighting that gave the place a soft, enchanted glow. there was a hush in the room as people took their seats, the air filled with anticipation and the faint notes of traditional instruments.

and then, when the lights dimmed and the curtain pulled open—he appeared.

sicheng.

draped in silk that flowed with every precise, delicate movement, his presence on stage was otherworldly. ethereal. like he didn’t belong to the same world as the rest of you. he moved with an elegance that stole your breath—arms extended in slow, sinuous arcs, his fingers painting invisible poems in the air. each leap, each spin, was poetry, full of grace and intention. time bent around him. for the minutes he danced, there was no past, no tomorrow. only him.

you were spellbound. your chest tightened with something sweet and dangerous. why does he have this effect on me?

sicheng twirled in the air as if he were defying gravity itself, his silhouette floating with a grace that felt unreal. his hair moved with the rhythm of his body, the folds of his costume danced like soft waves around him. every muscle seemed to flow with pure, clean, almost sacred intention.

your eyes followed him in a trance... but then, a blink—and the image of his body was replaced by another. more solid. more earthly. more raw...

the room was silent, save for the ragged breathing between you. the light was dim, just a small lamp casting a warm glow over the sheets. jaehyun had you pinned against them, his hair still damp, his eyes lit up. he had just made you come with his mouth, his tongue. and now... now he was looking at you with a wicked grin, a drop of sweat trailing down his temple.

“now it’s your turn to taste me,” he said in a low, husky voice, his fingers brushing your cheeks before guiding your face down.

you settled between his legs and took him into your mouth, savoring the heat and weight of his erection, feeling his body tighten with every move of your lips. your fingers traced along his thighs as you let him slide deeper, eager, hungry. he moaned your name, one hand tangled in your hair, the other caressing your neck, your shoulder... his hips trembling beneath your attention.

when he finally came in your mouth, you swallowed it all, never breaking eye contact, as if that moment was a statement. of desire. of surrender. of something you weren't sure was just sex anymore.

a sudden wave of applause jolted you back to the present.

the lights on the stage had changed. sicheng was now bowing, his chest rising and falling gently as he caught his breath, his lips parted in a serene smile. his fellow dancers joined him, their elegant costumes glowing under the soft stage lights, but you couldn’t focus on anyone else. just him. the way a drop of sweat trailed along his jawline, how the fabric of his outfit clung to his body in all the right places. ethereal, beautiful, almost not real.

your cheeks were burning. not just from the warmth of the theater.

you’d just spent the last few minutes with your mind between jaehyun’s thighs.

clapping like the rest, you tried to mask your daze, but your pulse was racing. your lips tingled with memory. and yet… your eyes were on sicheng, on his grace, his soft composure, the quiet elegance that contrasted everything about last night.

he caught your gaze then—just for a second. he smiled. gentle. curious. and maybe, just maybe, a little bashful.

your hands shook a little as you held the floral arrangement you brought of white lilies and soft lavender stems, carefully wrapped in pale gold paper. you hadn't planned to bring flowers. it had been a sudden impulse at a corner stand on your way to the venue. but now, looking at his glowing face and flushed cheeks, it felt like the right choice, not until you saw him step off the stage, cheeks flushed from the exertion, his hair slightly damp with sweat.

you approached, heart hammering, and when you handed him the bouquet, his eyes widened. “for me?” he asked softly, voice like velvet.

you nodded, suddenly shy. “you were… incredible.”

a faint pink spread across his cheeks. around him, a few of his dance friends whistled and nudged each other, muttering playful comments under their breath.

“damn, sicheng. didn’t know you had a secret admirer.”

“who’s this pretty girl, huh?”

he smiled awkwardly and turned to you. “don’t listen to them,” he said quietly, taking the flowers with both hands like they were something fragile. precious. “but… thank you. really.”

you smiled back, heart fluttering wildly. you didn’t know what any of this meant yet. but you knew one thing: for those minutes watching him dance, the only person in your mind was him.

or maybe not...

his friends were still teasing him behind their hands, but in that moment, it felt like you and him were in your own little world.

a quiet pause stretched between you.

then—

“want to go for a walk?” he asked softly. “i still feel like i’m floating. and maybe i need help grounding myself.”

you smiled, heart stuttering in your chest.

“yeah… i think i need that too.”

sicheng walked up to you with his face softly lit by the park’s lanterns, the same ones now catching on the edges of the petals he held between his fingers—the small bouquet you'd given him after the performance. his steps were slow, careful, as if he didn’t want to disturb the fragile stillness between you.

"thanks for coming," he said, his voice quiet, almost like a breath.

you nodded, still caught in the afterglow of watching him move on stage. the way his body floated, controlled yet weightless, like he wasn’t bound by the rules of gravity. you hadn’t expected it to affect you like this. but it had. deeply.

"it was beautiful, sicheng… really. i couldn’t take my eyes off you," you said, almost absentmindedly. your fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of your coat, as if trying to hold on to something more solid than your drifting emotions.

he smiled, just slightly, but didn’t look away.

"you were like a feather in the wind… so light. So fluid. i didn’t know you could move like that."

you kept talking, caught in the spell of the moment. and then, before you realized it, the words slipped out.

"that's why I liked you so much…"

silence.

sicheng blinked, tilting his head like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right.

"you liked me?"

your breath hitched, panic fluttering in your chest. "i—i mean… i used to. in the past. it was just a little crush," you rushed, trying to backtrack. "it doesn’t matter anymore."

sicheng watched you carefully, his expression unreadable. "so… do you still like me?"

you hesitated. "no!" you said too quickly, too sharply. then softer, almost afraid of the weight your own voice carried. "no..."

but his eyes stayed on yours, gentle but questioning. you sighed.

"maybe. i mean, a little. i think… the feelings are coming back. but i know you don’t feel the same way, and that’s okay. you don’t have to worry or feel pressured or anything like that, sicheng. i just hope this doesn’t change anything between us. i'd hate to make you uncomfortable. and if you want me to stay away, i will. just… please, don’t be upset."

you looked down, cheeks burning, heart pounding in your ears. you’d said too much, or maybe not enough. you couldn’t tell.

sicheng stood there for a moment, as if processing your words. the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze was the only sound between you, a small, peaceful distance that felt so wide in the silence. he stepped a little closer, his eyes soft but intense, and then he spoke, his voice steady and calm, but there was a hint of vulnerability in it.

"don’t worry," he said with a gentle smile, his hand reaching out to lightly touch your arm, offering comfort. "i won’t be upset. i’m not going to ask you to stay away. i'm your friend, and that won’t change because of this."

He paused for a beat, looking at you as if searching for something in your eyes, something more than just the words you’d said. He wanted to make sure you were okay.

"but…" he continued, his voice dropping a bit, "i can't pretend i don't care about you. i think i always have, even if i never said it before. it’s just… it’s complicated now, and i don’t want you to feel pressured either. so, let’s just take it slow, okay? we don’t need to rush anything."

sicheng's expression softened even further, and for a moment, it was like the world around you two disappeared. his smile wasn’t just comforting, it was full of understanding.

you were standing so close to him now, your heart beating loudly in your chest. the air between you was thick with unspoken words, with tension you couldn’t ignore. you hesitated, staring into his eyes, wondering if you were truly ready for what you were about to ask.

“now that you know… can you do me a favor?” the words came out quieter than you intended, the weight of them settling heavily in the air.

sicheng blinked, his eyes narrowing in thought as he processed your request. “a favor? what do you mean?”

your gaze flickered away from his, your voice catching in your throat. you weren’t sure if you could bring yourself to say it aloud. but the urge was too strong, the need inside of you too overwhelming. you exhaled slowly, almost in defeat.

“can i kiss you?”

his eyes widened, the shock registering in the brief silence that followed. for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped. his breath caught in his throat, and you saw the uncertainty flicker across his features.

“you want to... kiss me?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

you nodded, barely able to meet his gaze. "yes... i just... i need to know. i need to know how it feels, how your lips taste. it's... it's been eating at me, this feeling. maybe... maybe it’s just to push this feeling away. i don’t know."

he stood frozen for a moment, his expression a mix of shock and something you couldn’t place. he looked at you for a long, lingering second, his eyes searching yours as if to see if you were being serious. then, he seemed to shake himself from the stupor and scratched the back of his neck, nervous and unsure.

“i… i didn’t think you’d say that,” he muttered, voice a little rough, the words tangled in his throat.

he lowered his gaze for a brief moment, his hand nervously brushing his cheek. “i’m not sure what to think. but…” he trailed off, and when he met your eyes again, there was something unreadable in his gaze. “okay. but… make it quick.”

you felt your heart beat faster at his words, the rush of anticipation and fear flooding through you. you didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but the craving was too strong, and there was no turning back now.

you took a step forward, the movement slow, deliberate. you could feel the tension in your own body, the nervous energy that seemed to hum through the air. his body was stiff, unsure, but he didn’t pull away. he waited.

with shaky hands, you placed them on his shoulders, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. his breath hitched, and you swore you could hear the thumping of your own heart. you leaned in slowly, your lips brushing against his for a split second. It was a soft, tentative touch, like testing the waters. But the moment your lips met, something shifted.

the kiss wasn’t just a kiss. it was a question. it was an answer. you were both asking for something, craving something that neither of you could fully understand.

you pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, searching for any hint of what he was feeling. but before you could even process his reaction, he leaned in again, his lips meeting yours with more urgency this time. his hand moved to your back, pulling you closer. the kiss deepened, and everything around you seemed to blur, the world fading away except for the heat between you two.

the kiss was no longer short, no longer just a way to silence the burning question. it was desperate, as if you both needed more, as if this was something that had been building for so long that it couldn’t be contained any longer. his hands roamed up your back, fingers digging into your skin, pulling you even closer. you felt the heat rise in you, the growing need to touch, to feel, to be lost in him.

his lips moved against yours with a purpose, his body pressing into yours as if there was no room for anything but the two of you. the kiss continued, each second stretching into eternity, each touch, each brush of skin against skin, sending sparks through your body.

but then, reality hit. you pulled back, gasping for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. his breathing was heavy as well, his eyes wide, lips still tingling from the kiss. you couldn’t stop the rush of emotions flooding through you—desire, confusion, fear.

“i… i shouldn’t have done that,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

sicheng didn’t say anything immediately. he looked at you, his expression unreadable, like he was trying to piece together everything that had just happened. the silence stretched on, heavy between you. his hand brushed over his mouth, as if he were still feeling the sensation of your lips on his.

you couldn’t look him in the eye, the weight of your actions crashing down on you. the tension between you was unbearable now, and you didn’t know what would come next.

then, in the distance, you heard footsteps. jaehyun. he had finished his workout and was walking out of the gym, just as you and sicheng stood frozen in the aftermath of what had just transpired. jaehyun’s eyes caught yours and sicheng’s, and in that moment, you saw the flash of recognition in his gaze. he froze in place, staring at you both, the confusion and pain clear on his face.

his chest tightened as he processed the sight before him, and in an instant, something inside him seemed to break. all the thoughts, all the moments he had imagined between the two of you seemed to shatter. it was like a cruel slap to the face, reality crashing down on him, and he turned away, the pain settling into his chest, knowing that everything had just changed.

the sound of your footsteps felt heavier than they should have as they echoed through the empty apartment. you were packing your things, moving with mechanical precision, but your mind couldn’t escape the haunting image of last night. the kiss. sicheng. his hands. your heart pounding in your chest like it might explode.

everything about it was vivid. the heat of his body, the intensity in his eyes, the way he touched you... and now, as you stood there, surrounded by your things, you felt lost. something inside you had snapped, and you couldn’t figure out why. you didn’t understand what you had just done.

you had run. you hadn’t even thought about it. you ran from sicheng, from the confusion, from the storm of emotions swirling inside you. you ignored his calls, not because you didn’t care, but because you couldn’t explain something you didn’t even understand yourself. you felt terrible—empty.

you paused, feeling your body shake, your hands trembling. you bent over slightly, resting your hands on your knees, trying to steady yourself. the nausea in your stomach was unbearable, like it was rising from deep within you. it wasn’t the kiss, it wasn’t what had happened between you and sicheng—it was something deeper. something didn’t feel right. It felt wrong. simply wrong.

and then you remembered. the night before. the night you had been with jaehyun. you had been in his arms, lost in him, and it had felt real. sincere. everything about it had been intense, wild, and raw. but now, with sicheng, you felt nothing but emptiness. a hollow sensation that gnawed at you from the inside. why didn’t you feel the same way with jaehyun? why did everything feel so deliriously good with him? why had it felt like it was right, like you belonged there? now, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had just made a mistake.

you sank down onto the floor, your back against the wall, and buried your face in your hands. the dizziness didn’t fade. the weight of your thoughts was suffocating. you needed to breathe. you needed to calm down.

but how could you calm down when you didn’t know what you were feeling? you had been with jaehyun—everything had felt so right with him, so raw and real. and now… now it all seemed confusing. you had never felt this conflicted before.

you didn’t know if you could trust your feelings anymore.

and then you heard it—the silence, the absence of his presence. jaehyun. he hadn’t come home. you hadn’t heard from him all day. no messages. no calls. nothing.

he had left first. and you hadn’t even had the chance to reach him. you had tried, but it was impossible. the way he looked at you—the hurt in his eyes, the disappointment. you could feel it still. he had seen you, had seen the two of you together, and something in his expression had shattered. he didn’t want to see you anymore. not after what you’d done.

your stomach churned again. the truth was that you didn’t want to be in this mess, but here you were, trapped in a web of confusion, unable to untangle the feelings inside you.

you couldn’t go back. you couldn’t change what had happened with jaehyun or with sicheng.

and yet, here you were. lost in the aftermath.

jaehyun’s footsteps were heavy as he walked down the darkened streets, each step taking him farther from the image that had been seared into his mind. he had tried to push it away, tried to shake off the sting of seeing you and sicheng together, but the moment kept replaying in his head.

he hadn’t returned to the apartment. no, he couldn’t. not after what he had seen. not after the raw, aching pain that twisted in his chest when he saw you, your lips pressed against his. the image of sicheng’s hands on your body, his lips moving with yours, had made his stomach churn with a mix of anger and hurt. he hadn’t expected it—he hadn’t prepared for the jealousy that hit him like a punch to the gut.

his thoughts were scattered as he wandered aimlessly. he ended up at taeyong’s place, needing a distraction, anything to stop the storm of emotions that had overtaken him. he let himself in, muttering a brief greeting before collapsing on the couch. taeyong was there, of course, with a drink in hand, silently observing him. jaehyun didn’t speak at first, just grabbed the glass taeyong offered him and took a long sip, feeling the burn of alcohol slide down his throat. it was the only thing that seemed to calm the fire inside him.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” taeyong remarked, his voice laced with concern.

jaehyun let out a bitter laugh. "no, it's worse. i saw something i wasn’t supposed to see."

taeyong raised an eyebrow but didn’t push him further. jaehyun didn’t need to explain. taeyong always understood. he leaned back into the couch, his mind replaying the scene—your face, the way you kissed sicheng, like you belonged to him. jaehyun felt a tightness in his chest. he didn’t know why it hurt so much. he wasn’t even sure where he stood with you anymore. you had been so distant recently, and yet, seeing you with him, it felt like a betrayal.

it wasn’t that he hadn’t seen this coming—he had. he just hadn’t expected it to hit him this hard. and now, every drink he took seemed to make him forget for a moment, but the feeling always returned. the hurt. the confusion. the jealousy.

jaehyun’s fingers tightened around the glass, his mind swirling with thoughts of you. why didn’t you tell me? his chest ached, but he didn’t want to confront you—not yet. he wasn’t ready to face whatever was happening between you two.

he didn’t know if he was angry, heartbroken, or just lost. all he knew was that he couldn’t shake the image of you and sicheng together, and it felt like something inside him had snapped.

“damn it,” jaehyun muttered under his breath, taking another sip, his gaze distant.

the days passed slowly, like honey sliding down glass—thick, heavy, and impossible to stop.

you left the apartment the very next morning. you didn’t wait for jaehyun to return. maybe you were too ashamed. or maybe… you were afraid of what his silence truly meant. returning to your own place felt like stepping backward into a version of yourself you had outgrown. everything was still the same, but everything felt different.

unpacking was painful. every folded shirt, every book you placed back on the shelf carried the weight of disappointment. guilt clung to you like damp clothes. you had betrayed something you hadn’t even fully understood yet. something tender. something real. something that had bloomed quietly between you and jaehyun… and now was ruined.

yes, you were the one who ended it. you had been the one to say "we shouldn't" back when things got too deep. you told him not to catch feelings. and still—you had let him back in the same way he’d always slipped through the cracks in your walls. and now, after everything, there was nothing.

no calls.

no texts.

no late-night knocks on your door.

even though he knew exactly where you lived.

nothing.

you cried for the first few days. not because he hadn’t come, but because you didn’t know what you wanted him to do anymore. you were angry with yourself—for wanting him despite it all. for needing his arms when you had no right to ask for them. sicheng had kept his distance too. and you? you let him. maybe that was for the best.

your friends tried to distract you—girls’ nights, coffee dates, random gossip and karaoke—but they didn’t know. not really. they assumed you had fallen for sicheng again, that he’d rejected you for good this time. and you didn’t correct them. it wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

two weeks passed. fourteen days without a word from him. and you were slowly starting to accept it.

until—

it was a thursday afternoon when your paths finally crossed again.

you were at the university gym, dropping off some flyers for the art department's spring showcase. you weren’t expecting to see anyone. especially not him.

but there he was.

inside the training room, under the harsh fluorescent lights, gloves on, sweat clinging to his shirt. jaehyun. focused. sharp. fierce. every punch he threw looked like it carried a piece of the storm inside him. his coach barked something, and jaehyun adjusted his stance, but his movements were tight. frustrated.

you froze outside the glass doors, unsure if you should move or melt into the floor. but then he noticed you.

his eyes caught yours.

and for a moment, everything stopped.

he didn’t look angry. he didn’t look cold. he looked tired.

he stepped out of the ring, pulled off his gloves, and walked toward you slowly, wiping his face with a towel. you swallowed, nerves curling in your stomach like fists.

“hey,” you said, your voice barely audible.

he didn’t answer right away. Just stood there, chest rising and falling, eyes scanning you like he didn’t know whether to breathe you in or let you go again.

“i wasn’t sure i’d ever see you again,” he finally said, his voice low.

“i didn’t think you’d want to,” you replied. you bit your lip. “you didn’t come. or call. i thought that was your answer.”

he looked down, exhaled slowly, then met your gaze again. “i couldn’t.”

his voice cracked just a little. “i tried... every day. but i couldn’t look at you and not remember…”

you stepped forward, just slightly. “I know, i know it was... awful.”

“no,” he interrupted. “you don’t understand. i didn’t stay away because i hate you. i stayed away because i didn’t know how to stop wanting you even after everything.”

silence stretched between you. the hallway suddenly felt too quiet.

“i ruined it,” you whispered.

jaehyun shook his head. “maybe. maybe not.”

another pause.

“i have a fight in three days,” he added, softer. “it’s my biggest match yet. national-level. i’ve been training harder than ever. but… it hasn’t helped.”

you frowned. “why?”

“because you’re still here,” he said, placing his hand over his chest. “and i can’t punch that away.”

tears pricked your eyes, and your breath caught in your throat.

“i’m not asking for anything,” you said quietly. “i just… i missed you.”

his gaze softened. “me too.”

then, slowly, he reached for your hand, curling his fingers around yours like he wasn’t sure if this was a mistake. like touching you might hurt—but not touching you hurt more.

“you coming to watch me fight?” he asked, with the faintest of smirks. “or do i have to win without you in the crowd?”

you let out a soft laugh, choking on emotion. “i’ll be there.”

“good.” he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “because i want to win with you watching. not for you. just… with you there.”

and for the first time in two weeks, your heart didn’t feel like it was splitting open. it just felt full.

the crowd was louder than you expected. people packed the stands, their voices rising in a chorus of cheers, whistles, and anxious calls. the atmosphere in the arena pulsed with energy, but all you could hear was your own heartbeat.

and jaehyun’s name being called.

you were sitting near the front, just behind his coach, surrounded by other athletes, trainers, and curious fans. the lights dimmed slightly as the announcer’s voice echoed across the arena.

“coming to the ring now… jung jaehyun!”

you stood without realizing, eyes wide as he stepped into the spotlight. his robe slid off his shoulders, revealing the toned body you already knew too well, but now wrapped in determination. his jaw was clenched, his eyes locked forward. he looked powerful, composed—like a storm waiting to be unleashed.

but when his eyes scanned the crowd…

he found you.

for a split second, his expression shifted. just a flicker of softness in the middle of all that steel. and that was just for you.

you felt it deep inside—something warm, something alive again.

the bell rang.

the first round started fast.

his opponent was no amateur—he moved with precision, like a shadow in motion. jaehyun didn’t hesitate. he dodged, countered, landed a jab. then another. you gripped the edge of your seat, body tense with every strike. he was holding his own. no—he was winning.

but then the second round came, and it got messier.

the other boxer caught him hard—right hook to the ribs, then a left jab to the cheek that made jaehyun stumble. gasps filled the room, and your heart dropped into your stomach.

he got back up.

you rose from your seat, whispering his name under your breath like a prayer. come on, jaehyun… come on.

and he did. like a man possessed.

round three was war. each punch carried purpose, rage, and focus. his muscles burned, but he didn’t stop. he pushed through the pain, through the exhaustion, through whatever was still bleeding inside him. because you were watching.

he could feel you watching.

in the final seconds of the round, he landed a brutal uppercut that knocked his opponent clean off his feet. the crowd erupted. the bell rang.

and he won.

you didn’t realize you were crying until someone nudged you, telling you it was over. that he’d done it.

but all you could think was—he’s going to look for me.

and he did.

still breathless, sweat clinging to him like a second skin, jaehyun left the ring and walked straight toward you. no interviews. no press. no team celebration.

just you.

he reached you in two long strides, grabbed your face with both hands, and kissed you so fiercely you forgot how to breathe. the world fell away. no one else mattered.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered:

“i needed you there. i fought better because of you.”

your voice cracked as you whispered back, “i’ve always been with you.”

and in that moment—under the lights, in front of everyone, after all the silence and all the mistakes—he smiled.

because no matter how broken it had felt…

you were here.

and maybe, just maybe, you were going to be okay.

cbeargyu💭 hey! i’ve been super active here today LMAO. this post feels kinda different from the stuff i’ve been writing lately bc fun fact this was actually the first fic i ever wrote for the platform. BUT i never posted it tho, it’s been sitting in my drafts since 2023 🫣 but i finally decided to upload it today!! it was supposed to be just a one-shot but it turned out way too long, so i’ll be posting part two soon once i go over it and organize it properly :D hope you enjoy it! it’s inspired by a manhwa i absolutely loved called peach sorbet 🩷 totally recommend it btw! <3

[daisyblog]

No Complaints

Our Story Masterlist Summary: A fan catches a moment between Harry and YN, where she turns something innocent to sexual.

based on a tiktok between a fan and Harry (link in comments)

Harry was stood at the front of the stage, the microphone steady in his hand as he was about the place it back on the stand. Nyoh was standing next to him, the guitar heavy in her hand as she waited for Harry to perform the next song.

YN was stood on the floor area at the side of the stage. Close enough Harry could see her, but slightly away from the crowded barrier area.

Harry looked to his left to see YN standing there next to Jeff and Brad. YN had woken with a headache that morning and despite her insisting that she was fine now that she had taken a paracetamol, Harry couldn’t resist checking in on his girlfriend.

Catching YN’s eye, Harry brought the mic up to his lips so she could hear him. “YN? How’s your head?”.

Before Harry had chance to add anything to his question, YN voice shouted across the way filling the ears of everyone between them. “Never had any complaints!”.

Instantly Harry eyes widened as he realised the sarcastic response he had from YN. But whilst Harry shook his head with an amused grin, YN wore a bit smirk, very satisfied with the reaction she got from the screaming crowd and Harry’s blushed cheeks.

“Oh my god! That my friends is YN in a nutshell!”.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994 @macy-tpwk @mrs-anna-styles211994

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

this is weird but vigilante girlfriend and frank who needs her help with some mission and at some point he gets mad at her and scares her

weird but how do u think he'd act when he comes to find her again? just had this idea and i feel like you write really good and show his character well

That’s not weird at all I mean that’s Frank Castle in a nutshell! Thank you for the request too, I've been wanting to write for Frank but I had no ideas.

Summary: You’re a vigilante like him—just a little brighter, a little less bloodthirsty. You patch him up, you work together sometimes, and even though no one says it, you love each other in that aching, unresolved way.

The job had gone sideways. That wasn’t the problem, things always went sideways. What messed him up was you. The way you darted into the fire to cover his ass, reckless and burning with that same fury he saw in the mirror. You weren’t bulletproof. You weren’t him. But you acted like it. And when the dust settled and you stood there, breathing heavy, bleeding but grinning like the chaos was your oxygen, Frank snapped.

“You think this is a game?” he barked. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed. You think that would’ve been worth it? Charging in like some goddamn idiot?” Your smile died instantly, the light draining from your face. You flinched like you’d been hit—not by his words, but by the way he threw them. His voice had been too loud. Too sharp. Too much like every man who ever tried to make you small. You stepped back. One, then two paces. The expression on your face cracked something in him he didn’t know could still break. “Just trying to help,” you said quietly, and then you turned and walked.

Didn’t yell back. Didn’t argue. You just walked. And he just let you go.

+++++++++++++++++++

Frank didn’t sleep that night. Not because of the wounds or the heat still aching in his fists but because your face wouldn’t leave his mind. The way your shoulders curled inward, the way your eyes widened and brows pinched, the way you stopped looking him in the eye. The way you left like he was just one more man who didn’t see you clearly.

You weren’t afraid of danger. But you looked like you were afraid of him. That was enough to make him hate himself.

“Fuck”. He groaned knowing he had to go find you. 

He found you on a rooftop, wrapped in your own silence. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, watching your silhouette against the city lights. “I ain’t good at this,” he finally muttered. “Never really was” You didn’t turn. “Yeah. I noticed.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he added, voice lower now. Raw. Like gravel under water. He clenched his jaw when he still got no answer, no response at all from you. “I know what it’s like to be yelled at by someone who’s supposed to have your back,” he said. “And I-I did that to you. I—shit—I’m sorry.” That made your head turn, just a little. Frank Castle didn’t apologize. Not real apologizes, not like this.

You let the silence stretch between you, long and aching. Then, finally, “I wasn’t scared of you hurting me.” He nodded slowly, but he could feel his shoulder ease, feel his chest finally lighten after hearing that. Waited. “I was scared I made you hate me,” you admitted, voice tight. “Like I disappointed you. Like you finally got sick of me.”

His body tensed all over again, how could she ever think that? Frank stepped closer. Not all the way just enough that you could feel his heat at your back. “You’re not the problem,” he said gruffly. “It’s me. I saw you get hurt and I—” He paused. “I don’t have a word for what I felt. Just that it came out wrong.” Finally, you turned to face him. There were still bruises on your cheek, dried blood near your temple. But you looked at him with that same impossible soft heart, the one he didn’t think could still want him. And he saw it there, still.

Wanting.  Loving.  Trying.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he said, softer now. Like it hurts to admit it. You took a step forward, closing the space. “Then don’t raise your voice like I’m an idiot for caring if you live or die on me,” you said. “You don’t get to protect me and then punish me for doing the same.”

His jaw clenched. And then he nodded, “Okay, you’re right.”

Three words, honest and heavy.

You reached out first, fingertips brushing his wrist. “I’m not going anywhere, Frank. But I need you to stop treating me like I might break if you tell me you care.” He stared at you like you’d said something holy. And then, barely, he nodded. “I do care. I care too damn much.” You smile softly up at him, looking at him as if he was worthy of everything. “Then next time, lead with that.” And he would. He’d try at least. 

It wouldn’t be perfect, not right away at least but Frank Castle would do it the only way he knew how: fiercely, protectively, like it scared him, but tonight he realized nothing could scare him as much as the idea of losing you did.

If you like my work, please let me know! Reblogging, commenting, and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work, and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Requests are open <3

Tagging:

@malfoys-demigod

@sweety18

@iamsofabulous

@luvrgirlsworld

@blackhawkfanatic

@methodgurl

@creptolli

@hellskitchens-whore

@confetti-cakemix

[gorgeouslypink]

My Take on Manifesting + How to Use It to Wake Up in the Voidੈ✩‧₊˚

The Law of Assumption (LOA) in a nutshell is the concept that whatever you assume to be true is the truth. The most common and popular summary is: an assumption, though false, if persisted in, will harden into fact.

You've probably heard this a million times before, but I really want to explain this the way I interpret the law and I want to present it to you the way I wish it was presented to me.

The entire law operates on the principle that your 3d reflects your 4d. These terms are interchangeable with concious/subconcious, inner man/outer man, etc but basically that is the main principle that you should understand and accept: Your 3d reflects your 4d.

Now, here's where I deviate a bit into my personal opinions. If you know that your 3d reflects your 4d and you see something unfavorable happening in your 3d, why would you force yourself to pretend it doesn't exist? Deal with it in the 3d but KNOW that you can change things. Go and fufill what you want in your 4d.

Imagination Creates Reality.

You've probably heard this said a million times by LOA girls but it is such an important concept to understand.

Something that completely annoyed me back when I was trying to get into the void and had no grasp on LOA was people who would say that your imagination is your "true" reality or that you need to fufill yourself so much in your imagination to the point that you don't even care about it anymore in your reality. I do understand what they were trying to get at, but for me, I was just like if I want to manifest going to a concert, I don't want to just imagine it to the point where I'm fufilled, I want to actually watch it?

Let me explain my perspective now. Your imagination is not your reality. You can close your eyes right now and imagine yourself dating Harry Styles but once you open your eyes again, you're not going to be dating him. Imagining something doesn't make it magically appear in your reality, or else daydreamers would be living insane lives.

However, imagination CREATES your reality. To really understand this, we have to backtrack. Let's revisit LOA in a nutshell: An assumption, though false, if persisted in, will harden into fact.

I think most people understand the idea but acctually applying it is where everything comes crashing down. For me, there were so many times when I was super motivated, I listened to subliminals, I affirmed to myself, I was really assuming whatever I was trying to manifest. But then it didn't manifest and I was left disappointed.

I think this is a pretty common occurrence in the community and I know I've gotten hundreds of asks with people in this exact position. This ask that I answered covers this more in depth but I want to introduce a topic that isn't being pushed as much as it should: NATURALNESS.

"The time it takes your assumption to become fact, your desire to be fulfilled, is directly proportionate to the naturalness of your feeling of already being what you want to be – of already having what you desire."

-Neville Goddard

So basically, this is what I think the law should be represented as: An assumption, though false, if persisted in within your imagination until it feels natural, will harden into fact.

There are many ways that you attain this naturalness. Most people use imagination, just imaging themselves with their desire, really connecting to the feeling of having their desire so that it feels natural to them. This is when your desire turns into an assumption.

There are many methods within this; visualizing being the most popular one. Just visualizing normally or SATS allows people to experience their desire in imagination, making it more natural to them. Some people can't really visualize so they rely on scripting, pinterest boards, etc. The options are endless but the end goal is the same: making your desire feel natural so that it manifests into your reality.

Some people say you have to keep repeating your method for something to feel natural to you but I disagree. Just going to imagination once, truly feeling it and knowing its yours and knowing the law and that your manifestation has no choice but to appear is all you need to make something feel natural to you. I think the main reason that it takes some people repetitions is because they don't have a strong faith in the law backing them up so it doesn't feel natural to them but if you know the law is backing you up, your desire will natural to you instantly.

Now, if you noticed, I said most people use imagination. What about other people? Well, once you've experienced a few manifestations and really strengthened your belief in the law and acknowledged your power as the creator of your reality, you don't really need to imagine. You just know your desire will come. It's natural for you to manifest anything you want so anything you want will manifest. This kind of goes into what I was saying in the previous paragraph about knowing the law is backing you up. This is why states was and is so popular, it's knowing the law is backing you up and just occupying the state of whatever you desire and knowing it has no choice but to manifest. I love this post by @lotusmi explaining it and I highly recommend reading it.

Now, how to use all this to enter the void. There are 4 things you need to understand, embody, and assume.

1. You are limitless: Literally. You can manifest anything and everything. Seriously.

2. The void is real: One of the main things I've tried to do on my blog is getting everyone to a point where you might not fully believe in the void until you acctually use it yourself but you should know its real. In my Doubts post, I linked so much material across different platforms and groups of people and all of them are talking about the void. Recently, in my challenges, I introduced a book where the author talks about the void and how that's where your reality is created from. I even had a follower recently make a post about how they found their Reiki book talking about the void and how it creates your reality. There's endless examples and at one point, you have to sit down and wonder how all these different platforms and groups of people are all talking about the void if it's just a lie. It can't be a lie if so many people have come to the same conclusion.

3. You are going to wake up in the void state tonight: You understand manifestation now right? All you have to do is know you are going to wake up in the void, make it natural to you and that's it. I promise when you realize that the word operates on your beliefs and that your imagination is honestly what matters because your reality is just a platform for your imagination to project onto (your imagination creates your reality), your manifestations are going to be so quick.

4. Naturalness is all you need: All you're doing when you're manifesting anything, in this case; the void is making it natural to you. Once you do, it has no choice but to manifest in your reality. This really ties into the third point, but I want you to understand this because once you realize the third and fourth point, the law will be so easy to you. If you haven't entered the void yet, the only problem is that it was not natural to you. As a void blogger, I know this is a case because I've gotten so many asks about this and everytime I can tell that they struggle with seeing themselves actually enter the void. It's unnatural to them. But recognizing that naturalness is the problem is also the solution. Just make it natural to you. Know that you are going to wake up in the void tonight and really rest easy in this. You know you are limitless, you can manifest anything, waking up in the void is a peace of cake.

So here's what you're going to:

Starting this moment, know you are going to wake up in the void tonight. Just know it. Now, go straight to your imagination and do whatever method will help your desire natural to you. Know that your reality is just a projection of your imagination and that you are the creator of your reality. Deal with your 3d but know that your 4d is what triumphs.

If you don't wake up in the void, don't spiral. Your desire just doesn't feel natural yet, that's all. Just focus on making your desire natural to you. That is literally all you have to do and you know you're going to enter. If you're someone who might need some time to make your desire feel natural to you just because you struggle with staying firm in the law, do @littlemissprettyprincess 's void challenge: linked here.

The void is easy, you are going to wake up in the void tonight, and you are going to live your dream life. I know you are. Literally embody that and tell yourself that. Anytime a doubt or negative thought comes to mind, just stay firm in your desire and know the law is backing you up. Waking up in the void state is so natural to you and I can't wait for your success story.

[freakyformula]

Knight in shining armor

Summary: Readers car breaks down on the road and her friend Max picks her up.

Writers comment: Sorry for the inactivity, I had one of my wisdom teeth pulled and developed dry socket lol rip

Warnings: Some fluff

Word count: 2k

You had spent the last week away for a holiday with your family. You lived in Monaco while your family still resided in your home country. You had barely graduated college when you decided to work abroad. Living away from your family was tough, but the week after you moved in, as you walked home, you stopped by the harbour and that's where you met him. Max Verstappen. He was handsome and had the finest smile you'd ever seen. Stating that you fell for him then and there would be an overstatement but you felt something in your heart.

You thought you recognised his face but couldn't place him. When he laid his eyes on you, on the other hand, he stopped in his tracks and studied you for a moment. Then, he walked up to you and introduced himself. And the rest was history, you instantly hit it off as friends. Max was special, you two had something that you hadn't ever felt with anyone else. When he was home from his busy job in Formula 1, you would often spend time together, even sleeping at each other's apartments, although not in the same bed. You lived in the same district as him, Fontveille, only a couple of buildings apart.

"Yeah, yeah, Max! I'll be at your place in about an hour." You laugh as you hear Max's worried voice on the other end of the phone.

"Please drive carefully." He pleads.

He'd insisted on picking you up from the airport or ordering an Uber but you politely declined.

As you grab your bags, you walk straight to the car rental. You glanced at the cars available and decided on a small black Audi. You had to admit that you were tired. The long flight had taken its toll, and you started to regret insisting on driving home but you felt like you had to prove to Max that you could take care of yourself.

You pay for the car and drag your heavy bags out. Getting them into the small car was a task itself but you managed, somehow. As you started your 20-minute drive you felt the fatigue in your body. When you made it onto the highway you felt relieved, because you were one step closer to home and Max.

You'd barely made it halfway when the car started to lose power, leaving you stranded at the edge of the highly trafficked highway. "Fuck… What do I do.." You panicked, you didn't have any numbers saved and didn't know French that well yet so calling for a tow was out of the question. You didn't really care about the car at this point, but rather about how you were supposed to make it home safely. You had to think for a few minutes, listing your options in your head. Then, as if by a miracle, the phone called. Max. Shit, what was she going to say, that she was a damsel in distress and she was stuck on the highway?

"Hi, Max." You said.

"Hi lieverd, are you home soon? I was getting worried."

"Ummm, so, I'm kinda stuck on the highway… The damn car broke down. But I'm figuring it out, I promise!" You blurt the last part out. Silence. You waited for a reply for what felt like a minute. You hear the sound of keys clinging. "I'm on my way. Y/N, please for the love of god, stay in the car and turn your location on." Max quickly and shortly replies before he hangs up.

"I…" You start before you realise that he ended the call. You did as he'd told you and looked around. The cars drove past at such fast and close proximity.

This was Max in a nutshell, always there, having all of the solutions to the world's problems up his sleeve. You felt so pathetic at the fact that you couldn't even make your way home by yourself.

15 minutes later, you see a car that you quickly identify as Max's car speed by on the other side of the highway. He quickly makes his way to your lane and parks his car behind yours.

He walks up to your broken-down car, minding the traffic. "Need a ride?" He teases.

"Shut up!" You step out, giving his side a nudge. You open the trunk where the bags were, and Max drags them to his car, placing them in the back with care.

You lock the Audi and step into Max's luxurious and grand Aston Martin. It smells like him.

"Ready to go?" Max asks and grabs the wheel.

You take his hand into yours and stare into his eyes as he turns to look at you in confusion.

"Thank you, for this." You thank him, making him huff.

"Of course Y/N, I told you I should have picked you up. I want to spend all the time I can with you before the next race weekend." You smile at him and you start the drive to Monaco and Fontveille. The whole way home, he held your hand tightly, as if he was scared to lose you. The gesture made your heart even warmer than it already was.

Max parks neatly and effortlessly in his parking house and carries your bags out, insisting on handling them. You walk behind him like a puppy, letting him lead you to his apartment.

As you walk in, you instantly toss your shoes and crash on his sofa, with him following, laying down beside you.

"Wanna order some food?" You whisper, looking at him.

"Someone's hungry, I see. What do you want, princess?"

"Something really unhealthy, preferably. Pizza, maybe?"

And with that, you ordered your food with Max, playfully arguing whether pineapple was acceptable to put on pizza.

"Do you want to do something in particular tonight, schat?"

"Anything that includes you sounds good to me." You smile at him.

"Does snuggles sound good to you? You look tired." Max says.

You nod as an answer, as you switch on the TV, leaving on the random rom-com in the background. You grab a blanket that was left on the sofa and lie down with your head in Max's lap. You both sigh contently. He slowly rubs your head, giving you a relaxing head massage.

You loved his attention to your needs, he had always treated you with respect under this last year that you'd known each other. Max was always extremely clingy with you, holding your hand, and reminding you how much he likes spending time with you. You didn't think anything of it at the time but lately you started noticing how caring he actually was. He wasn't like this with anyone else of the girls from your mutual friend group either.

As you were thinking about the signs Max gave you, he must have noticed how distant you were because he took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

"You okay?" He asks with concern in his voice.

"Yes, I am, Max." You chuckled and gave him a squeeze back.

"How was your holiday? Tell me everything." Max asks of you.

As you tell him all of the gossip and details he starts to rub your hands, creeping up your arms. And then, he pulls you into his arms, leaving a quick kiss on the top of your head.

You pulled away. You weren't against the affection, but you needed some clarity. Max was like a closed book when it came to his feelings and emotions, rarely talking about what he felt, regardless of whether it was positive or negative.

You quickly gather your thoughts and Max seems to do the same.

"W-what are we doing?" You ask him.

He looks you in the eyes and cups your cheeks, unable to keep his hands off you. You didn't protest, vice versa, you leaned into his touch. This was new but it felt right.

He sighed. "What I'm going to tell you is something I've been waiting to say for the last year or so. I should have told you sooner but I was scared you would reject me. Y/N, I really really like you… More than as a friend, and I've been trying to ignore my feelings for you but I'm simply unable to keep this to myself any longer."

You were speechless, you had your suspicions but it still came as a surprise.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same way about me, but I couldn't keep it in." He continues.

"Max…" You break the eye contact. "I like you too, I mean… A lot."

Max eyes warm up with joy, and he gives you the warmest smile you'd ever seen. His smile reached all the way up to his eyes, and you thought it was the most adorable thing you'd ever seen.

You wake up in a bed. The sheets smell fresh, like citrus, and Max's cologne. You turn around, rubbing your eyes, but find no one on the other side of the bed. You find your way downstairs, to the living room and kitchen. Max is standing at the stove with his back turned to you. What is he possibly doing, you think. It's common knowledge that Max sucks at cooking.

You sit down at the kitchen island, getting lost in his beauty. It's quiet, the only exception being Max's swear words as he manages to burn himself and whatever is in the pan. After a while, he breaks the silence, "You know, Y/N, it's not polite to stare." He says as he turns around to face you.

You were embarrassed and sat there stuttering, not quite knowing what to say. "I-I-I swear I wasn't!"

Max laughs, "Uh huh..." And scoops two eggs onto each plate. One for you and one for himself. "Thank you, Max, this is too much..." You say, still blushing. He walks around the island and takes a seat next to you, giving your temple a light kiss while holding his arm around you.

"No, Y/N. This is barely enough." He smiles.

"So... What happened last night?" You ask. You really didn't remember, you must've dozed off.

"We talked about your holiday, and what happened last night, you know, you ending up on the road, and you fell asleep. I carried you to my bed, and I slept on the sofa. Nothing happened, by the way." He clarifies, holding his hands up. You look at him, and you can't make out if you were shocked or happy, or something else. One thing you knew for sure though, you were thankful for him. As he gets up again to get some juice and bread, you walk up to him, not saying anything. "Y/N, what's wrong?" He asks, worried.

You're lost in his eyes, and stand there like a fool. Just studying his beautiful stance. You had no idea what got into you, but you fall into his arms, holding him tightly, not letting go.

Max laughs nervously, "What are you doing?" While hugging you back, or rather squeezing you. You were unable to even breathe while he was holding you. You stay like that for what feels like forever, both of you fusing together, not being able to let go, not wanting to let go.

When you finally part, you're both out of breath from holding each other so hard. "Shall we?" Max asks, pointing to the eggs. As you eat, you don't say anything, neither does Max. You're processing what just happened and Max seems to do the same. You didn't regret hugging him, on the contrary, you were happy with yourself.

"I think I love you, Y/N." Max admits while washing the two plates, not daring to look at you.

Hearing the words, you freeze. You know exactly what to say, but the words don't come out. Max finally turns around to face you, and you're sat with the blankest of expressions, further worrying him. "Y/N?" He walks up to you.

"I... I think I love you too?" You ask yourself, already knowing the answer. You did love him, there was no question. You'd always loved him.

Upon hearing your words, Max lets out a sigh of relief, while walking up to you, and embracing you.

"Thank fuck." He sighs. You can feel him almost trembling, or rather vibrating from nervousness. His grip on you tightens, pulling you closer, before he lets you out of his grip. "Let me rephrase that, I don't think I love you, I love you."

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 7

Source for pic

Trouble 7

Word Count: 4814

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I told you guys this was going to get worse... and believe me or not... it STILL gets worse. Also, mind the red tag, above, please.

Masterlist

The police. 

You need to tell someone, and the police are the obvious choice. You've been tossing and turning in your bed for over an hour, and this is the smartest, simplest answer. 

Zoro is unreachable for a week, so the next best option will have to do. 

You remember your ex, Ichiji, once had a problem with a girl who loved and followed the Vinsmoke siblings everywhere. She was obsessed with the whole family, but mostly Ichiji, since he's the eldest. She resorted to possessive letters and creepy calls, and you've been trying to rack your brain as to how he dealt with the problem. You're almost positive he went to the police. 

And they couldn't help. 

That was when he hired the bodyguards. 

Maybe they took care of the problem? 

A shudder that has nothing to do with the cold travels through your body. Anyway they dealt with it, you don't have the resources to do the same. And Ichiji's bodyguards were real beasts: massive, bulky, scary. They were elite, all-stars. 

You don't have anyone like that to look out for you. 

Lies. 

You have Zoro. But you'll have to be very careful about how you'll tell him once he gets back. And even though the police did nothing to help with your ex’s problem, that doesn't mean they won't help now. 

Oh! 

You still have the picture he sent you of Rob Lucci, that has to get them to act! 

You sit upright in your bed and grab your phone. It's been muted and silent since you retired to your bedroom after closing all the doors and windows, including the door to your room. 

You left the light in your bedroom on anyway, too scared of invisible shadows, too frightened of unseen ghosts.

Obviously, there are texts waiting for you. You knew that, and that's why the phone was silenced. The dread in your stomach seems like it has come to stay, but it still manages to increase as you read the texts. 

Unknown: How are you feeling, Kitten? You barely ate dinner. You need to eat.  Unknown: Tucking into bed already? Don't be scared. You're safe. No one will harm you.  Unknown: You're mine. 

You don't know who it is, but that doesn't mean your mind doesn't conjure up the scariest, raspiest voice to go with the possessive texts. With a heavy sigh, you swipe the texts aside and search for the picture. 

It's gone. 

Just like that. 

You know you deleted some texts when you first started to receive them, but you didn't delete the picture, no matter how ghastly it was. But it's gone. 

With a shaky inhale, you return the silenced phone, face down, to your bedside table and curl up on your bed, comforter tucked high against your chin. You'll still go to the police. You have to tell someone. 

A creak of the old house brings desperate tears to your eyes and you stifle a sob. You don't dare turn off the light and you know sleep will elude you tonight. 

God, you miss Zoro. 

And he's barely been gone a day. 

-*-

Sometime during the night, you must've fallen asleep from exhaustion because the sound of the rooster’s call jolts you awake with a surprised gasp. 

Daylight seeps through the closed curtains, and you will your heart to steady to a normal beat. Nothing bad happened, you're safe, you're alone in your room. You're fine. 

Everything's fine. 

You refrain from grabbing your phone, trying to prolong the moment you’ll have to face the creepy texts, perhaps even new texts waiting for you, and instead head to the bathroom to freshen up and get ready to face a new day.

Your eyes are baggy and darkened, likely because you only slept two or three hours. A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you lay down your plans for the day: feed the animals and do the morning chores, then head to the police station and tell the cops about what’s going on. 

They will have to help you. And even if they don’t do much, at least you won’t feel so alone. 

As you finally gather some courage to grab your phone, a shaky laugh escapes your lips: there’s nothing new. No new text, no new photo, nothing. You were suffering from anticipation without any cause to do so. So, you take the phone off silent mode and stuff it in your pocket. 

The day already seems lighter and brighter. Perhaps you won’t even need to go to the police.

Grabbing a quick breakfast, you open the door, still chewing on your apple, ready to face the day. You don’t find it unusual that there are hardly any birds singing. 

Though you should’ve.

Because as soon as you open the door, you’re assaulted by a foul smell. The apple you are holding rolls in your hand and falls to the floor with a thud. Blood. There’s so much blood. 

Nausea turns your legs to jelly, and you grip the handle of the door tightly as your eyes widen and sweep the scene. There are countless dead birds, squirrels, rats, and even cockroaches. They’re scattered across your porch and thrown carelessly over the railing and the porch chairs. Blood is smeared and pooled everywhere, and the smell of rot and decay makes your eyes tear up.

You gag and fight for your breakfast to remain inside your stomach as your hand flies to cover your mouth. What could this mean?

Then, from the corner of your eye, you find your answer: there’s a cat - its fur an oddly close resemblance to the colour of your hair - dead, lifeless, gutted, and covered in blood, pinned to your door. The note attached to the poor animal is written in crimson words, and the message is clear as day:

Don’t tell anyone, Kitten.

You’re powerless to stop the retches and heaves as you fall to your knees. 

-*-

After what you found on your porch in the morning, you lock yourself in the house again. With the windows locked and the curtains closed, you curl into a small ball on the couch, put on your headphones, and will yourself to just disappear. 

Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

But he doesn’t leave you alone.

Unknown: I love seeing you scared, Kitten. The way your big, bright eyes widen. The way your chest heaves. Unknown: You’re so beautiful. Unknown: I hope you understood my message, darling. Don’t tell anyone.  Unknown: Not. A. Soul. Unknown: Or next time, it won’t be animals…

More threats. More possessive words. More praise.

The tears keep falling from your eyes, and you feel trapped and utterly alone. How did this happen to you? Who could this person be? He’s a man - you can tell because of the hand that was holding Rob Lucci’s eyes in the photo. That much is clear. 

But who?

Who would want to hurt you? Who would want to scare you?

Unknown: You don’t need to be afraid of me, Kitten. I won’t hurt you. Not you, never you. Unknown: I think your dad’s animals might be hungry.  Unknown: Are you going to be cooped up inside all day? Do you need me to feed them?

What? How sick is he? How can he say this? Is he close? How close?

A whimper escapes your lips as you clutch your face in your hands, shaking your head and shutting your eyes shut. 

He’s right, though. You need to feed the animals. You’ve been inside the house for around four hours already. The animals must be starving.

It takes you about fifteen minutes to gather the strength and courage to face the slaughter on your porch and then another five minutes to gather a trash bag and gloves. Then it’s with heavy breaths that you place your shaky hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly, your eyes still closed. 

The smell is still overwhelming, but it’s not as bad as you thought it would be after the dead animals were left rotting in the sun for hours. With another shaky breath, you finally open your eyes.

There’s nothing there.

No animals. No blood. No note or cat pinned to the door.

For a fleeting second, you think you’re going crazy. You have to be. But then your eyes fall back on the door. Your nails scrape gently against the dark wood: there’s a mark where the knife was pinning the cat and the note. 

You didn’t dream it, you didn’t imagine things. It happened.

And he cleaned it all up.

What is going on? Why is he playing these mind games with you?

Suddenly, you hear a distant noise coming from the treeline, just beyond the barn. Your blood runs cold, and a shiver filled with dread makes you tremble. With a shaky step forward you grip the railing, straining your eyes against the brightness of the day to try to discern if there’s something lurking there. 

Your breathing slows down, and your knuckles turn white with the force you’re clutching the railing. Dread rises from somewhere in the pit of your stomach and settles right in your chest.

There’s definitely something - someone? - there. And it looks big. Massive, even. 

The shadow moves forward, and you gasp at the same time your phone begins to ring. A scream climbs up your throat, and you stumble backwards, fumbling with your pockets to fish out the blaring phone. 

Nami.

You pick up shakily, your eyes already moving back to the place where the shadow had been. “Y-yeah?”  

“Hi!” Nami’s voice is bright, she might not have noticed the strain in yours. Your left hand grips the railing again as your eyes dart left and right. Nothing. “How are you, honey? Are you feeling lonely now that your broody cop left for the week?” She giggles, and you force out a shaky, fake laugh. Nothing! “I thought you might want some company. Want me to come over?”

Nothing at all.

Fear grips you again, and you stumble backwards, closing the door with force and leaning against it with heavy breaths. “Come over?” Breathe. Just breathe. There’s no way in hell you’re going to tell Nami to come over. No matter how much you want her company, how alone you feel, or how much comfort you seek. You won’t risk her getting trapped in this person’s web. “Sorry, Nami. I can’t today. Maybe another time?”

She groans on the other side of the line as you move to the window, your eyes scanning the trees again. “Fineee! I was just postponing some boring house chores anyway. I’ve been procrastinating since the weekend.” She giggles. “Talk soon, then?”

You let out a noncommittal noise, and silence fills the line. “Are you okay?” She asks, worry lacing her voice. Calm down! You try to force some semblance of control back into your voice. Nami always sees right through your bullshit, so you need to be a good liar. Just this once. One time.

“Of course I am! I’m just sooo tired! Ace couldn’t help me today, so I’m tending to all the chores alone. I need rest.” You let out another shaky laugh and hope against all hope she believes you.

There’s still nothing out there. 

“Hmm, okay, okay. I believe that. Farm chores are so tiresome. ‘K, gotta go. Call me later?”

“Sure, Nami. Thanks for checking in.”

She hangs up, and you grip the phone tightly. You could’ve sworn that the shadow was coming for you when you picked up the phone. And that thought alone is enough to make you stay cooped up inside for another hour. 

-*-

You don't quite know how you do it, but you force yourself to tackle your morning chores, even though they’ve now turned into afternoon chores. 

Every little noise, every tiny movement makes you tremble and whimper. Even the cows sense your discomfort, some of the older ones gently bump you as you pet them and whisper soothing words. 

How ironic is it that you're the one in need of soothing, not the cows. 

Somehow, you manage. And as soon as you're done, you rush inside, bolting the door and sighing as you lean against it. You did it. You're safe inside. He can't get in. 

He can't get in. 

You're safe. 

-*-

You take a quick shower and have a meager dinner. You wouldn't be able to eat anything different even if you were hungry. Your fridge and pantry are almost empty. You should've gone grocery shopping yesterday, but the sick cow threw those plans out the window and now the last thing you want to do is leave the safety of your home to buy food supplies. 

You can always survive on nuts and cereal. 

A groan leaves your lips as you finish cleaning the dishes. No, you can't. 

You place the towel on the rack to dry, then halt your movements, tilting your head to the side to listen for any noise. You’ve closed all the curtains, but you still feel watched. It's like someone is creeping in on you, watching every move you make, every sound, every thought. 

Shaking your head, you leave the kitchen, turning off the light and running towards the stairs like a child scared of the dark. Your stomach still rumbles a bit, though you're so nauseated and scared that, even though you're hungry, you know you can't eat anything right now. 

Plus, empty pantry and all that… 

So, tomorrow, grocery shopping will have to be. Get out, buy stuff, get back in. 

How hard can that be? 

-*-

Hard. So very hard. 

Considering you didn't sleep much last night. Maybe an hour, two at most. He kept texting you with praise and soothing words, telling you to turn off the light and rest. But how could you turn off the light when he was watching you, and every shadow felt like it was looming closer? How could you rest when your heart kept pounding with adrenaline? 

You don't know how much longer your body can function without sleep, with barely any food and under constant stress. But the truth is, you can't even bring yourself to worry about those things when the real terror hides behind creepy texts. 

And there are still three more days before Zoro returns. 

Trying to ignore the dread in your stomach or the way your breath leaves your mouth in shaky exhales, you open the front door, bracing yourself for anything. 

But there's nothing. 

A longer and much more relieved exhale empties your lungs, and you feed the animals before rushing to your car. The farm feels eerily silent, as if the animals can sense all the apprehension coursing through you. 

And they probably do. 

You drive a little faster than you should on the way to the store and as you park the car and exit with rushed movements, new texts greet you, and you grimace in consternation 

Unknown: Slow down, Flash. There's no one following you, don't worry. No one will get near you. 

Right. No one but this creep, whoever he is. There's no need to worry at all. 

Fear induces hurry, and you take little care in picking the prettiest vegetables or the plumpest fruits. You just want to grab your essentials, and get out. Rush home, and lock yourself in until Zoro returns and you can find some solace in his arms. 

Is that too much to ask? 

“Well, hello there, gorgeous. I see you're all alone today.”

Oh, no, no, no. 

“Hi, yes, I'm in a hurry, excuse me.” It's the store clerk who flirted with you when you returned. And his advances are especially unwelcome today. Even more so since Zoro isn't around to pretend to be your boyfriend. 

He places an arm on your cart, a cheeky smirk in his lips and you suppress a groan as his hand inches closer to touch yours. “I'll help you. What do you need? Besides my number?” He chuckles and now it's the urge to roll your eyes you suppress. 

You feel a faint vibration in your pocket and push the cart forward as you decide to ignore it. “I really don't need your help, thank you.” 

“Are you sure?” You nod and try to push past him again, but his hand moves, gripping your forearm instead of the cart. “Because I can be very… serviceable.”

Hell, no. 

A loud crash from the next aisle - that sounds like broken jars - echoes through the store, and the clerk groans. “Not the pickles, come on. They stink up the place!” He releases your arm with frustration, and you seize the opportunity to slip away, grab the rest of your essentials, and cash out. 

Your nerves are frayed to the breaking point, and all you want is to curl up and disappear. 

It's not until you finally get home, unload the groceries and lock the door, that you look at the unread texts on your phone. 

Unknown: Who does he think he is?  Unknown: He dares flirt with you? He dares TOUCH you? You're mine!  Unknown: Don't worry, Kitten, I won't let him bother you again. 

No! Oh, no!

A quick online search shows you the phone number of the grocery store and you're fast to dial it, your foot tapping the floor impatiently as guilt gnaws at your insides. 

You can't let anyone else get hurt because of you. It's not fair. Not fair at all. 

Someone picks up at the third ring and it's an older female voice. It's not him. You try your best to describe the clerk you wish to speak to and, thank God it's a small town, because the woman on the line knows who you're talking about and calls him. 

The phone buzzes in your ear and you glance at the text while you're waiting. 

Unknown: How selfless of you, Kitten, trying to save him.  Unknown: You can't, though, you know? 

“Hello?” He sounds pissed. 

“Hi! Oh, thank God. Are you okay?” You collapse into a kitchen chair, your legs wobbly all of a sudden. 

“Who is this?”

“Right! Sorry! Uh… I’m uh… The girl you were talking to earlier? Erm… The one you offered to help?”

He lets out a dry chuckle. “The gorgeous one? Yeah, I remember you. Guess you really needed my number, then.”

Bzzzz.

Unknown: He's gone, Kitten. Might as well say goodbye now. Nobody touches what's mine. 

“Good! Listen, you're in danger.” Your voice falters as you think about how crazy you must sound. How delusional. “I can't tell you much, but someone might try to harm you. Don't ask me how I know, I just do! Please don't leave the store alone! And go to the cops, please!”

There's a moment of silence on the line and you hope he's considering your words, listening to the faint edge of fear on your voice, something that shows him reason. 

“Wow…” He's not convinced. “This has got to be the most elaborate excuse anyone’s used to get me to back off.” He chuckles again, but this time in disbelief. “Listen, I get it, okay? I'll back off. You're not interested. I won't try again.”

“No, no, wait! That's not what I–”

“Don't worry, miss. I got it.” He sighs. “I got to go, some asshole spilled the whole aisle of pickles and that shit’s already spilling to the other aisles. Er… Bye, I guess.”

And he ends the call. You hold the phone to your ear, ignoring the beeping signaling the end of the call. This can't be happening. It can't. Someone will get hurt again because of you. 

You drop the phone, and it slips to the floor with a thud, your fingers threading through your hair and gripping tight. The walls feel closer now, the air thinner. You're alone. You're frightened. You're vulnerable.

And you will be responsible for another terrible crime. 

-*-

The chores that could be postponed, got postponed. Those that couldn't, got done half-heartedly. It will have to do. At least until Zoro comes back and you can rely on him. 

You miss him. You need him. So, so much. 

As per usual, you lock the door tightly and double-check all the other locks on the back doors and windows, though you haven't touched those since this whole ordeal started. Everything's locked, and though apprehension still grips your heart tightly, you feel as safe as you're going to feel for now. 

He won't get into your home. You're safe inside. 

You still rush up the stairs and lock yourself in your bedroom, lights on and covers pulled up to your chin. 

After you've settled, and after you've made sure there's nothing hiding in the shadows or inside your closet, you unlock your phone, skim through the new set of texts: ‘You're mine’, ‘Sleep tight’, ‘Drink water and get some rest’, and then open the website of the local newspaper again, dreading the time when you'll see the store clerk's picture or some reference to him. 

It dawns on you that you don't even know his name. 

And yet, you're going to be the one to blame for whatever gruesome thing that happens to him. Should you go confess to the cops? 

No… You can't. He doesn't let you go to the police, you got that message loud and clear: if you do that, somebody else will get hurt. And maybe next time it could be one of your friends. Or you. 

A shaky inhale leaves your lips as a new set of tears threatens to fall. How do you have more tears to cry? How are you still hanging on? How long will you last without fully breaking? 

-*-

Like all the other nights, you eventually give in to exhaustion and fall asleep for a few hours. Except this time, the events from the day before are still pretty fresh in your mind, so the first thing you do is grab your phone - no new texts. Yet. - and open the newspaper website. 

Nothing. 

A relieved sigh empties your lungs, and you actually manage a small smile. Maybe this person, this stalker, is all bark and no bite. 

Though even as you think this, you know you're wrong. He's very vicious. Rob Lucci, the dead animals… You feel he's capable of terrible things. But maybe, just maybe, this time he was just bluffing. 

Bzzzz. 

No. No. No. 

It's a picture. 

Bzzzz. 

Unknown: I always follow through on my threats, Kitten. 

And then there's an address. 

No. It's your fault again. You know you shouldn't open the picture, you already know it's gruesome, you already know you'll regret it, and yet… 

You still open it. 

The shop clerk is blindfolded and tied up with intricate knots, the rope is binding his chest, his legs, his arms. His face is swollen and barely recognizable. There's blood everywhere. And his hands… They're detached from his body, hanging on his neck like a necklace and holding a paper with a bloody note: Nobody touches what's mine. 

-*-

You used the address to make an anonymous tip to the police. You didn’t even know you could do that online, but apparently, there are specific websites that offer that anonymous service. 

You can’t bear to look at the picture one more time, but you hope he’s still alive. All he did was talk to you. Just like Rob Lucci. 

They aren’t guilty of any other crime. And that’s why you feel so responsible for what happened to them. 

The urge to tell Zoro all that’s been happening is stronger than ever, but then there’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind telling you that if the stalker managed to do this to men who only flirted with you, what could he do to Zoro, someone you’re actually interested in?

You know Zoro is a cop, and you know he can take care of himself, but still… 

You fear for his safety more than you fear your own.

And that is terrifying.

-*-

Shanks called and said he and Beckman are having a wonderful time, and business is blooming. Some of your father’s best horses have already been selected by breeders, so, unfortunately, Shanks is going to have to prolong his stay for at least three more weeks. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell him how alone and terrified you felt. So instead, you feigned happiness that all was going well for him and told him he could stay for as long as he wanted because you had everything under control. 

Lies, after lies, after lies. 

The rest of the week passes in a haze. You barely sleep, hardly eat, and are in a constant state of stress and nerves. The only time you leave the house is to feed the animals and clean the stables. And even then, there are times you manage to ask Ace for help, pretending to feel sick. 

The rest of the time is spent curled up, frightened, and being constantly harassed over text by this creep.

You’ve been wracking your brain as to who he is, but you have no idea. Absolutely no idea. And the fact that he could be some random person might even be scarier than if he were someone you know. 

Friday finally arrives, and as you down your third mug of coffee of the morning, sitting iyour couch, your phone rings. And this time you’re actually happy to see the name on the screen.

It’s Zoro.

But as you’re about to answer, the call disconnects suddenly. Did he hang up?

Bzzzz.

No. He didn’t. 

Unknown: Remember, Kitten, don’t tell him anything. You don’t want to see the cop pinned to your door next, do you?

Zoro calls again, and once more, the call dies before you pick it up. 

Unknown: You know by now that I don’t make idle threats. You do not want to see me mad, Kitten. I don’t want to hurt your friends because I don’t want to see you sad, but I will hurt him. 

Zoro calls again, and still you have no time to answer. 

“Shit!” You almost sob. “I won’t tell him anything… I won’t…” You mutter to yourself, tears already gathering at the corner of your eyes as the feeling of being trapped and alone overpowers you. 

This time, when Zoro tries again, you manage to pick up. 

“Hey, Troublemaker! What the hell is wrong with that damned phone?”

God, oh God, you missed him so much. His strong voice, his confident demeanour, the way that just hearing him speak to you makes you feel instantly safer.

It’s too much.

Too much.

You try to keep the tears and the sobs at bay, but you can’t. “Zo…” You sniffle, and it’s clear that he immediately stands at attention on the other side of the line.

“What’s wrong, Trouble? Talk to me. I’m still heading home, I’m about two hours away. What’s wrong?”

Bzzzz.

Unknown: Kitten… don’t disappoint me. 

“Nothing!” A wet, shaky laugh climbs up your throat, and you bring your knees to your chest, trying to feel smaller. “I’ve just been feeling lonely this week. Nami and Robin have been busy, I don’t want to bother Kaya and Usopp. Luffy is busy at the fire station, and… and… I’ve missed you so, so much… I’m such a crybaby, I’m sorry.”

Is this enough?

Silence stretches, and all that you hear on the other line is the sound of cars and chatter from his coworkers. “I’ve missed you too, Trouble.” At least his worry is hidden behind a semblance of softness. It might’ve been enough. “Are you sure that’s it?”

Another excuse, quick.

“Yeah… I mean, my dad just called saying he has to be away for more weeks than he initially thought, I guess that I also miss him…”

Zoro chuckles softly, and you sigh in relief. 

“You’re an emotional mess today, Trouble.”

You laugh softly and sniff, your hand cleaning the remnants of your tears from your cheeks. 

“I guess I am.”

“Well, Nami texted me earlier, saying the gang’s going to meet at Robin’s. Are you coming?”

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. You don’t want to put any of them in danger, but you don’t think you can spend more time alone inside a locked house. You need your friends, you need Zoro…

“Yeah, I guess.”

“See you soon, then?”

You hum, and before you can say anything else, the call ends again. Did he hang up? Was it the service? Or… maybe you should think about changing phones…

Bzzzz.

Unknown: Such a good girl, Kitten. I knew you could do it.  Unknown: I hope you think of me at the gathering later. I do want you to have fun, you know? But remember…  Unknown: Behave, Kitten. You do not want to see me angry. I don’t want to have to punish you.

Taglist: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000

|Chapter 8|

[rosy-crow]

Miniroth in Dragon Quest (Rough Recap)

Alright, I’m off work and I gathered as many of my translations as possible. A lot of these were just put through screenshot/google translate, so they aren’t perfect, but to avoid blatant misinformation, I double-checked with some of my Japanese mutuals on Twitter to see if my guesses were right and they helped out 🙏

Young Sephiroth arrives in the world of Orchestrra, which is full of monsters. Here was the basic summary translated.

Long story short, the other humans the second group of monsters and the human player (Master) eventually meet are Cloud and Co, who have their own quest to escape.

But Miniroth becomes the center of the story and I recapped the highlights of his bond with Monan, the cute pink monster, in these posts specifically.

As they gathered info, Monan told Sephiroth about her world and he listened eagerly, but he had some points where he was too mission-focused and poor with his communication. He apologized for this immensely after an incident where a monster caught him off guard and Monan rushed to protect him the attack and she got hurt.

It was after this point (shown above), that Sephiroth started to actually befriend Monan. Then he opened up and they had this cute moment where Monan called him a friend and Sephiroth just about melted.

This bonding subplot apparently developed more today and we got this scene where Monan calls Sephiroth kind/compassionate and he is moved by it 🥲

And Monan was just starting to want to ask Sephiroth more about his life after he told her about Team Glenn too!

So yeah, they became buddies over the course of a few days, but then the drama that I was last freaking out about came down to ruin it all.

Shown above, Sephiroth briefly teamed up with Cloud and co, which went well. But then Seph started getting weird premonitions and psychological attacks, which led to an extreme breakdown in the middle of a big battle. The screen turned purple and Miniroth started yelling in pain before vanishing into a portal that zapped him away.

Aaaaaand out came Dragon Quest’s adult Sephiroth!

Now we know where the purple came from :(

I loved the design though! It’s very OG/old Crisis Core!

But yeah, he burnt down the monster village. Can he stop doing this sjfjdjd 💀

Monan essentially just refused to believe it was the same Sephiroth and immediately helped Cloud and the others beat him.

That was the main event, and there were some other battles/conclusions that I couldn’t get all the translations for, but in a nutshell, everyone worked together to save the day. Cloud and co were fine and went home, but this is where the ending really upset me because. MINIROTH. DID. NOT. COME. BACK.

The last time we saw him, he got pulled away in the middle of his agony (which was caused by his older self…which is so fucked up because he basically ruined his own happiness 💀) and Monan worried about him!!!

THEY CLOSED THE WHOLE DAMN EVENT WITH MONAN BEING SAD AND MISSING SMOL SEPH AND THE LAST TIME SHE SAW HIM, HE WAS LITERALLY SCREAMING IN AGONY??? WHICH IS SO UNFAIR?? THEY ALSO DIDN’T GET TO SAY GOODBYE!!

And the screen faded to black with this FUCKING GUT PUNCH AJDHSJSJD

This lovely Japanese player translated it in detail for me. Monan and the others promised to explore more so that they could share interesting stories with Sephiroth if they ever saw him again — the stories that he seemed so delighted to hear. They hoped it would help him forget “painful moments.”

And they also said they’d never forget his awkward but joyful smile when Monan called him a friend, which was this scene 💔

WHY. WHY THE FUCK.

[skellseerwriting]

5 Times Iida Thinks You’re a Boy and 1 Time He Finally Realizes

Oblivious!Iida x Fem!Androgynous!Reader

Part 3

Part 4: Date

Word Count: 800+

Content & Warnings: rejection, slight angst (there’ll be a happy ending but not in this chapter), Iida and reader both make presumptions about each other

Summary: You’re at the library with Mina, and she convinces you to do something

“I’m telling you, that’s what he said!” Mina squealed, jumping up and down behind you with her hands on your shoulders. Sighing for more than one reason, you shushed her to keep her voice down as you continued to browse the library shelf.

“That doesn’t mean he’d want to go on a date with me.” You said, a little disgruntled. With Mina as your best friend, peace and quiet was a luxury you couldn’t afford. You wouldn’t have it any other way though, of course.

“Yeah but he said he likes intelligent girls who hold respect for rules and authority. That’s basically you in a nutshell!”

Hissing out another “shh!” Before the librarian could chase you down, you randomly pulled a book out and went to a nearby table. Sitting down, you opened the novel right up against your nose and did your best to ignore her. In truth, the words sparked a bit of hope within your chest, but the fear of it all crashing down scared you more than anything else.

“Come on.” She whispered to your left, sticking her nose between the edge of your book and your face. “There’s a good chance he might say ‘yes’.”

You slammed the book closed. Mina jumped back to avoid her face getting clipped. “Or he might say ‘no’.” You divulged to her your fear. It slipped through the syllables and conveyed exactly what you didn’t want to risk happening.

Placing a friendly hand down on your arm, she smiled warmly at you. Like always, she emitted guidance and trust. “And would that really be so bad?” She asked you in a heartfelt manner. It made you think.

Dipping your head, you let out a weak “no”.

“Great.” Her voice sounded solid. “Because now’s your chance.”

“What?” You shot your head back up, but it was too late. Mina had already zoomed out of her seat and away from your sight. Immediately, you understood what she meant. To your right, where you had just been before, browsing the same shelf on the same row, was Iida.

Sweat dotted your brow, and before you knew it, you stood up to make your way over to him.

“Oh, hey Iida.” You greeted, moving to slot your book back into its spot (which just so happened to conveniently be a foot away from him).

“Good afternoon.” He responded, smiling upon seeing you. The brief nervousness you had felt a moment ago seeped out of your body. Mina’s words coursed through you. She was right.

You could do this.

“Are you looking for something to read in your spare time?” You asked coolly. It would be easier to build up to talking with him about a shared interest. You liked books, he liked books, what’s not to like?

You, apparently. Or at least, that’s what you feared.

“Yes.” He confirmed. “I’m trying to find a piece of classic literature, but the author’s name appears to be evading me on this shelf.”

Following along with his finger as it reached where you were standing, you took a step back and pulled out the book you had just put back in. “It wouldn’t happen to be this one would it?”

His face lit up. “Marvelous!” He exclaimed. “I had no idea you were also into classic novels of this manner.”

You sheepishly rubbed the back of your head. Yes, you had randomly taken it out of the shelf, however, you had already read that book before. Multiple times, in fact.

“Yeah,” you told him. “It’s among my favorites.”

Iida leaned farther into your space. “If you like this one, perhaps you’ll enjoy some similar classic literature I have in my own personal collection of books.”

“I’d love that.” You gushed, then, saw the conversational opportunity and took it. “I would also love it,” you tried not to hesitate and just get the words out. “If we could go out on a date.”

You held your breath.

Iida’s mouth stayed partially open for several seconds. Then, he cleared his throat and straightened his posture. His eyes evaded yours and his cheeks turned pink. Despite his best effort to be vocally clear, he stuttered out his response. “I- I don’t-“ he vaguely gestured to all of you. “I’m not really into…”

Your eyes widened, quickly catching onto what he was saying. “Oh, I’m sorry for assuming. My bad.”

“No no,” he shook his head, still not looking at you. “It’s okay.”

“It’s alright.” You reiterated.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Now you were both standing there awkwardly. Another beat passed.

“Well.” You clicked your tongue. “I gotta go…”

“Right!” He said, arms stiff at his sides. “I shall see you in class.”

You did your best not to look at him forlornly as you quickly passed by. While attempting to exit the library, Mina intercepted you.

“What happened?” She asked gently, noticing the way you looked upset.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You said in hushed tones. She let you slip by her and through the door. You wanted to tell her the truth, but you couldn’t do that to Iida. If she asked again, you would just say that he rejected you. And that was true, right? Regardless of the reason.

He had rejected you.

Part 5

Tagist: Tenya Iida

@electronicexpertshark @ragdol-666

[arjwrites]

Take A Picture, It'll Last Longer- Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: While hunting with the Winchesters, you had picked up a disposable camera to capture some memories. Each photo represented an important point in your collective journey- all the while, hinting at a budding connection behind the scenes.  Warnings: None! Largely gn, but reader is occasionally referred to as "she." Slight language here and there, mostly just silly fluff! A/N: Another idea of mine that has been kicking around for a while. I hope the Sam crew appreciates this! <3

“Alright boys, hold up those shovels!!” You were perched on top of a neighboring gravestone, disposable camera held close to your face.

“You’re kidding, right? We are literally desecrating a grave, and you’re snapping pictures? This could be used as evidence one day!” Of course Sam was throwing sass. He could never just sit there and look pretty for you.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta preserve this stuff for posterity! Sam and Dean Winchester, in their natural habitat!” you laughed. 

Dean, in sharp contrast to his brother’s protests, instantly struck a pose, slinging the shovel over one shoulder and gazing dramatically to the horizon like an action hero. Huffing, realizing he was outnumbered on this matter, Sam limply lifted the shovel in one hand, popped a thumbs-up with the other hand, and slapped a forced, sarcastic smile on his face.

“Perfect! Now they’ll also get to witness each of your unique brands of bullshit!” 

Sam crossed his arms in a (slightly) feigned offense, looking to Dean for backup. Dean simply shrugged- “I mean, she’s got us there. That’s pretty much our bullshit in a nutshell.” 

Sam fought hard to stifle the smile that was working its way to the surface. She knew them too well. 

–

“What are you looking at?” Your voice broke the silence that had been dragging on for longer than you even remembered. The question had came out a little sassy, which you didn’t intend, but you were feeling a little defensive. There was no way Sam was staring at you for any good reason. You were nested against the arm of one of the motel couches, piled high in lore books, researching while sporting an unbrushed head of hair and last night’s pajamas. It was noon. Not your best look. 

“Nothing, nothing. Sorry.” He held your gaze just a moment longer before returning to his work, smiling down into his laptop. You hummed, satisfied, until you felt his eyes peek back up at you. 

“Hey, take a picture, Winchester! It’ll last longer!” You laughed, hiding your hint of insecurity with a bit of sass. It was a joke- completely a joke, and you thought Sam had taken it as such, until…

“You know what? You’re right. Don’t move a muscle.” Sam held his hands out as if to freeze you in your current position, turning on the dramatics as he backed away slowly before spinning on his heels to run to your side of the room.   

“Sam-”

“I said don’t move!” He taunted over his shoulder. 

You heard Sam rustling through your bag, but you didn’t dare turn to look- you figured you’d humor him and comply with the ridiculous request. Sam returned to his perch on the couch across from you, a grin adorning his face and the camera looking comically small in his large hand. He cranked the dial, lined it up with his right eye, and called out- “Say cheese!”

“Cheeeeeese!” You laughed, bathing in the blinding brightness- both from the camera’s flash and Sam’s mile-wide smile. If only the photo had been captured from your point of view- you could stare at that face forever. 

–

“Alright everyone, gather around!” Dinner was finished, the dishes were done, a fresh round of beers were cracked. What better time for you to call for a little family photo?

“Here we go again with the paparazzi,” Bobby gruffed, ruffling your hair as he passed you. 

“Excuse me, it’s called being the family historian. We need to record this touching memory!” 

“Alright alright, get over here, everyone,” scolded Sam with a lighthearted tone. Having him on your side was helpful- his long arms corralled the whole crew with ease, gathering everyone in front of the couch. You smiled a silent thank you, and he winked at you in return, sending your heart aflutter. 

While the team of men behind you figured out the ideal photo formation amongst themselves, you prepped the camera, winding the dial and propping it up on the tv stand while making sure to get the angle just right. After this there would only be one picture left on the camera- you had to make sure to save it for something really good. 

Dean stood behind the couch, arms draped over the shoulders of Bobby to his left and Cas to his right. While Dean was already cheesing, Bobby and Cas weren’t quite as natural in front of the camera- it was taking them a second to settle in. Sam, however, was sat down on the couch, arms outstretched to beckon you in. Eager to get the picture taken, you clicked the button to trigger the countdown.

“Alright, we’ve got ten seconds everyone!” You raced over to plop yourself down next to Sam, who almost instictively wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in as close as possible. You tensed a bit, nerves on fire due to your intimate proximity to him, but your face beamed with joy. In the last few seconds before the photo snapped, Sam pressed a sneaky, soft kiss to the side of your head, returning to his former pose just before the final flash went off. Though you were able to calm your bugging eyes in the nick of time, there was little you could to stop the searing heat that flushed to your cheeks. God, you hoped that wouldn’t show up in the picture.

–

It had been a few months since any of you had so much as thought about that camera. Life had gotten a bit busy, to say the least. The end of the world had brought with it plenty of trials and tribulations, and left very little time for photo ops. That being said, you had finally reached a long awaited moment of peace. Things had died down, and there was a brief moment for you and the Winchesters to catch your breath and lay low for a bit. 

It was well past midnight, and a quiet had fallen over the bunker- not the usual tense, fearful, impending-doom type of quiet. This was much more peaceful. Typically, at this hour of the night, the three of you would still be up researching or figuring out plans for your next move. Tonight, however, Dean had been able to hole himself up in his room for a while, trying to get some kind of sleep, which wasn’t usually an option for him. After dozing off and on unsuccessfully for a few hours, he emerged from his room, in search of something he knew would help knock him right out- a snack. 

Drudging down the hall, Dean was drawn away from his intended destination after noticing the blue glow and soft buzz still emitting from the television. Thinking Sam had left it on before heading to bed, Dean rerouted his path in order to switch it off, mumbling to himself that this was not his job. His frustration remained up until he was able to fully take in the scene in front of him. There on the couch lay you and Sam, fast asleep. Sam’s massive frame dwarfed yours as he held you from behind, face firmly planted in your hair. One of your arms curved in front of you to wrap itself around Sam’s, and the other flopped off the couch, the TV remote dangling loosely in your grasp. Dean felt far too sappy even thinking it, but he could’ve sworn he had never seen either of you two so peaceful. 

After smiling down on the two of you for a few seconds shy of creepy, Dean had a realization. He tiptoed out, careful not to disturb you two, and beelined for a little something he had recently discovered, stashed in a junk drawer. The disposable camera, long forgotten, with only the space for one serendipitous photo remaining. “Finally, you two,” Dean whispered, punctuating his sentence with the quiet click of the camera. He’d been betting on this for months, and now, you and Sam could never live it down.

[lizaluvsthis]

Do you still have lore for tag6? I dont think i have it :(

(Also hi i met your account in the old one and i saw fatal lavenders released back then i wanted to get to know more of it)

OH HELLOOOO! I see another person whose a fan of my silly fangirl! Dont worry I've got it right here!

And for some people whose not caught up with the lore or didn't caught up let me quick summarize you:

Tag6 is a normal girl who likes to go and game in with SMG4 she and him almost had the similarities from one another. This AU I've created was inspired from @itsajanea 's idea that originated how the plot goes.

Fanfic:

Summary: SMG4 has found someone new, much to Three's dismay. He couldn't help it but feel like something is wrong with his new "Girlfriend" and that there is something more going on with her than just being all 'kind' and 'polite' to people, especially with SMG4.

Will SMG4 still end up being inlove with the Lavender Girl? or does he end up with Three's open heart

LINKS:

Prologue

Chapter 1

TAG6 INFO LORE (old)

The first one is kind of old

MORE INFORMATION ABOUT TAG6

I would PRETTY much recommend you THIS updated version with more of tag6's information!

This link will ALSO redirect you to the place where I put my character lores in, if anyones ever interested!

IN TAG6'S NUTSHELL CHARACTER CONCEPT:

If I had to put it this way- Tag6` original design was to have SMG4's signature color of blue but pastel. I never found this idea close to what I've been wanting and threw it away and designed her from having 3's color just to make somewhat four remind her of Three in someways he could barely avoid that thought of.

Since tag6 is created from a goop and transported SMG4 and SMG3's USB inside to give her life, this could mean that it would make her their child. (Holy shitt sweet home Alabama indeed) although that's not how its supposed to be- It's just a cursed one ^^

[in1-nutshell]

Nutshell Summaries and Buddy Face Offs are closed!

Thank you everyone for asking and putting things in!

I will do my best to make sure the rest of the request are finished. Who knows, maybe I'll be finished by the 11?

No promises though.

Thank you again for being patient and kind!!

[happilysmythe]

are we friends, or are we more?

t. frederic x female mc

word count: 2.90k

requested: yes || no

summary: trent frederic is in love with his best friend of sixteen years, and he's finding it increasingly more difficult to hide it. so maybe it's a good thing that she practically forces him to go for a late-night walk in the snow.

i decided to play around with some third-person perspective this time. let me know what you guys think :)

“Mommy!”

The young girl shouted as her grip on the monkey bars slipped. Her mom, unfortunately, wasn’t close enough to hear. She fell from the metal and hit the mulch with a thud. Tears welled in her eyes as her nimble hands held her scraped knee.

A young boy — who seemed to be a year or two older — rushed over before her mother had the chance. “Are you okay?” he asked with a frown as he crouched down to her level. 

The girl shook her head and gripped her knee as she rocked back and forth. Her shoulders shook up and down with each small cry. The sight broke the little boy’s heart. He ripped his red bandana from his head and fixed it up neatly, then tied it around her knee — which was now partly stained red from the blood that dripped from her wound — and sat back with his hands on his hips.

“There,” he spoke proudly. “My mom taught me that. It should stop the bleeding!”

“Thank you,” the girl sniffed and finally lifted her head to make proper eye contact with the boy beside her. His red hair shone in the sunlight, and his face donned a proud smile.

“You’re welcome,” he replied warmly and held a freckled hand out to her.

”I’m Trent.”

That was sixteen years ago.

Since then, the two were practically inseparable. Their old friends at school often described them as being attached at the hip. It was rare that they ever spent a moment apart, from their childhood summer days at the local park to their late-night talks in her apartment. Even at their grown ages, their peers would always make it a point to mention their envy of how close their relationship was through so many years of growing up together. They longed to have the sort of bond they shared.

Trent was positively enamored by her. Throughout his life, he only had one serious relationship which lasted for just under one year, and that was when he was seventeen. It wasn’t inherently special — though it gave many firsts — but it ended with no real conclusion. She would often ask him about it, but he was dismissive. Trent never told a soul about the real reason their relationship didn’t work out, and it was because of her.

She, in a nutshell, was his world. She was all he knew for so long, and it was the fate he chose for himself. Growing up, Trent was the loud boy in class, always causing some form of disruption — never with malicious intent — or finding a way to fail the easiest test in the world. But where he was south, she was north. His polar opposite, she dedicated all of her free time to her studies — which ultimately landed her at college in Boston — and would spend most days trying to keep her best friend’s behavior at bay. She was…motherly, in the purest sense of the word. She was the one he could always go to, no matter what time of day, or how urgent it was. She understood him on a level that he could never put into words, and for that, he was forever grateful. He found solace in her, both spiritually and physically.

It was just before his eighteenth birthday that he realized he’d fallen for the oldest friend he had. To this day, he was never sure what exactly it was that delivered the final blow and brought his feelings to fruition. There was seldom a time he didn’t wish he could go back and prevent it from happening. Perhaps, if he could, he wouldn’t have felt so stuck. All he knew was that it was becoming increasingly harder to push down the feelings his soul desperately wanted to come out, and he was afraid of losing the single most important person in his life.

Reminiscing on the day they met, the pair sat beside one another on the Orange Line — aged twenty-two and twenty-three — and waited for their stop. She mindlessly scrolled through her phone, softly humming a song she heard in a store earlier that day. The sound system on the train boomed throughout the car, signaling to the passengers that they were approaching Back Bay — their stop. She slid her phone into her pocket and slipped on her leather gloves to keep herself warm once they stepped out into the cool, winter air.

Trent hadn’t been able to tear his eyes from her all day. He didn’t know what it was, but he could only assume it was because they were getting increasingly less time together with him playing so many games, and it was becoming harder for him to keep his feelings to a minimum. Perhaps it was that, or that she simply looked gorgeous, having used the eyeshadow palette he bought her for Christmas just a few weeks prior.

“I love winter, but man, I wish it wasn’t so cold,” she finally broke the silence as they approached their stop.

”I know, but there’s not many places like this that you can spend it in.” His optimism shone through, as usual, bringing light to the dim situation she proposed. The pair stood up, adjusting their jackets. Trent wore a tan trench coat, and she wore a similar-looking black one, along with black scarves and the matching black beanies they bought a few years prior at a pop-up shop in Boston. “At least the walk back to your place isn’t too long.”

“You really are a big softie,” she giggled as they stepped off the train and the crisp air slapped against their faces. “All bark on the ice and no bite off it.” It wouldn’t be long until their lashes were frozen and their noses and cheeks were tinted red, but they didn’t pay it any mind.

She lived in a small townhouse unit just near the Back Bay station. It was more upscale and had a larger-than-average rent, but Trent wouldn’t let her settle for any less. Many of the less expensive student-populated areas weren’t always safe when it came down to it. Oftentimes he would front some money up to her to make sure her rent was paid, and although she always tried to deny it, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Because they had such a close relationship, she didn’t think much of it, but it was almost as if he were trying to tell her something by making such large gestures as those. Alas, she never reached that conclusion.

As they walked down the sidewalk, she turned to him. “Remember when we used to go to the park between our houses back in St. Louis? When they had that hot chocolate stand in the winter?” He nodded in response. A moment passed, and a smile bloomed on her face as an idea popped into her head. “There’s a café at the end of my street and the park here is, like, three blocks away. Can we…”

Trent laughed softly and looked down at his feet, “Tonight? I thought you were cold.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s different. Come on, for old time’s sake,” she tugged at his arm. “I’ll even pay. Please?”

He looked at her for a moment with suspicious eyes, his brow threatening to raise, but he folded as usual. He knew that simple things like that made her happier than anything else, and he wanted nothing more than to be the person who made her that way. So he gave in, completely leaving out that he had practice in the morning — if she knew, she would call the plans off altogether — and feigned a defeated sigh.

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Thank you, T,” she beamed. Although her voice resembled her childlike self, her eyes said otherwise, as if to thank him because she really needed this; to get her mind off of things for even just a little while.

Together, they walked to the café — with her expertise guiding — and ordered their hot chocolates. The one who ended up paying was not her, but instead, Trent, who insisted on it and wouldn’t give her a chance to protest. The two made their way toward the park just a few streets away and sipped on their drinks — not before letting them cool down, of course — with warm smiles on their cold faces.

“Can you believe that you got drafted to a team that plays where I’ve dreamt of living my whole life?” she pointed out as the moonlight shone through the trees and lit up the path before them, coated with the fallen snow from a few nights prior. “I mean, what are the chances, you know?”

“I know,” he agreed softly. “I’m glad, though.”

“Me too,” she smiled.

Their gazes lingered on one another for a beat longer than normal before they both turned forward, and Trent got a glimmer of hope, although he could have been reading the situation completely wrong.

Before he could act on it — and likely foolishly, at that — he felt a drop of something ice cold touch his cheek, only to look up and realize it was a snowflake. The laugh that resounded from the girl next to him was laced with childlike happiness, and his face lit up.

“No way,” she giggled, turning to Trent as they walked on the empty dirt pathway. “It’s like a cheesy movie,” she took a sip of her hot beverage, “but it’s so pretty.”

“Yeah, it is,” he replied, his gaze locked on her walking just ahead of him. He gripped the foam cup in his hand — the heat suddenly feeling hotter against his palm — and the little voice inside his head told him that this was his chance, so don’t blow it.

“Follow me,” he simply instructed and guided her toward a tree just slightly isolated from the others. They tossed their empty foam cups and he stood next to the trunk to look out at the park. They could see everything from where they stood just under the snow-covered tree, and it was all so…perfect.

“Wow,” she marveled at the view.

“Hey, so uh,” he straightened himself out as she turned to face him. Her head tilted slightly as she looked up at him, her expression laced with what was a mix of concern and confusion. “I know Christmas basically just passed, but…”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small object wrapped in white tissue paper. “Here,” he softly spoke and handed the item to her without another word.

She wore a look of confusion and took the small gift from his hand. Her fingers gingerly tore the paper open to reveal what looked to her like thin, white cardboard. As she tore back the tissue a bit more, she was able to get a clear view of the purchase he made earlier that day.

It was a silver necklace with a pendant that was shaped like an angel. The diamonds in the halo glistened perfectly in the moonlight. It was a few hours prior that she first discovered the piece of jewelry, in a department store earlier in the day. The pendant reminded her of one that her grandmother had as a child but broke before she had the chance to give it to her. She explained it to Trent and spent what felt like hours admiring the pendant, only for it to be too expensive to purchase, so she had to leave it behind.

But Trent, of course, couldn’t bear the thought of letting someone else have it. A few moments later, she was admiring the dresses when he excused himself to the bathroom, only his feet carried him to the jewelry counter in place of it. Without a second thought, he dropped the money on the accessory and slipped it into his coat pocket, completely unaware that he would have the courage to give it to her that night, if at all.

“Oh, my god, no,” she gasped as her eyes caught sight of it. “You didn’t.”

“I know you couldn’t afford it, and I know it’s expensive. But I couldn’t let you lose it to someone else,” he explained softly. “Not when I saw how much it meant to you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she looked up at him with a vulnerability he’d only ever seen a few times in his life. She couldn’t find the words to express her thankfulness, or at least not enough to convey how grateful she was to him. Nobody had ever done something so sweet for her in her life, and it was only typical that he would be the one to do it.

“Turn around,” he quietly instructed and took the necklace in his hand as she lifted her hair. He took it from its packaging and draped it over her shoulders — allowing it to sit comfortably atop her scarf — then clasped it together. When she turned back around to face him, his eyes glazed over her with pure adoration. He swore she’d never looked more breathtaking than she did then, between the cold tinting her skin and the snowflakes adorning the tips of her hair.

“Trent, I…” she shook her head. “Why did you do this?”

He took a step closer, closing their proximity slightly more. A deep breath slipped past his lips as he silently took in her soft features for what could have been the last time if his cards weren’t played right. “It’s what you do for the people you love.”

The look in his eyes as they bored into hers was a silent plea. He wasn’t telling her he loved her like he had in years past — he was telling her he was in love with her, and he needed her to know. She matched his gaze and swallowed deeply as their surroundings faded into obscurity as if the snowfall had somehow blanketed them and isolated them from the rest of the world.

Trent stepped closer to her, and he could see the conflict painted on her face. He slowly lifted a hand — hoping to gauge her reaction — and placed it gently on her cheek. She drew in a sharp breath from the unexpected contact and he refrained, his hand just barely grazing her skin. He opened his mouth to ask for confirmation to continue, but she nodded before a sound could slip out. He couldn’t — and wouldn’t — resist any longer.

He leaned down and slotted his lips with hers. For a split second, she hesitated, but it took only a moment for her to melt into him as she settled into it and kissed him back. Every ounce of emotion flowed from their bodies and into their feather-light kiss. His tongue brushed against her plush, red lips, and they parted to allow him entry. He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss, yet keeping so gentle that it remained chaste and unhurried. She sighed wistfully against his lips, telling him without words that she was enjoying this shared moment.

They were completely dissociated from the world around them, only focusing on one another as his free arm wrapped around her waist and her hand found purchase on his shoulder. His grip on her rose-tinted cheek tightened slightly to pull her in closer as if this were all some sort of dream, and he had to take in as much as possible before he woke. And perhaps it wasn’t real, for the two never could have dreamt that they would ever be in a romantic embrace such as this.

Their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle, tailor-made for one another — conceivably by some higher power as if they were fated to be each other’s beginning and end.

Their lips parted from one another, leaving only a few centimeters of space between them as they slowly, carefully pulled back. Their surroundings began to set back in, and the sound and feel of the breeze wisping in the air around them slowly came back. Her eyes flickered up to his and their gazes finally aligned, both of them wearing soft expressions. Matching smiles adorned their faces, and his bare thumb — cold to the touch — gently ran back and forth against her cheek.

“Think you can give a guy like me a chance?”

She giggled softly — the sound so beautiful it resembled some form of a hymn to Trent — and opened her mouth to speak. “I think you’re the only guy that ever had one.”

His smile grew and he reached for her hand. Lacing their fingers together, he held their hands between them without breaking eye contact. The pad of his thumb rubbed the back of her hand — which could only be felt to a certain extent through her glove — and she looked up at him lovingly through her snow-coated eyelashes. They remained wordless for a while, letting the moment sink in as they studied one another’s features for the first real time. To him, she was perfect, and to her, he was all the same.

From then on, it would be Trent’s mission to make her as happy as she made him for all of those sixteen years. It all felt like a dream, and he was going to make sure he didn’t let her slip through his fingers. He knew he would never regret approaching her at the park that day. She was the best decision he ever made.

She just needed to give him time, and he would give her the world.

© 2024 happilysmythe

[blekitnyzamek]

When I was preparing my own reading summary of 2024 I was reminded of some awfull book - The Ladies of Missalonghi. Which is also known (and that's how I found out about it) as a plagiarised version of Blue Castle. I began reading that thinking, that it can't be that bad. Oh my lord, it was worse.

I don't usually write reviews on Goodreads, let alone analyzes, but that time I needed to let off some steam. So, I think now, it will be funny to translate and reshare it here for the blue castle book club.

Be prepared for a looot of piffle. Please, don't read it book yourself if you value your dear brain cells.

In a nutshell: The Blue Castle but in Australia, except that the main character is calculating goose, the clan is cartoon villains and the entire plot consists of a series of predictable plot twists and one that comes completely out of nowhere.

Our main heroine is Missalonghi Wright, a nearly 34-year-old spinster nicknamed "Missy" by her entire family (similar to Valancy "Doss" Stirling, a 29-year-old spinster, hmm…), who lives with her mother and her sister (much like Valancy with her mother and her sister-in-law!) in some completely out-of-town (hmmm) in an ugly, poorly heated house (HMM). She only wears brown and unfashionable dresses (HMMM). Missy is part of the Hurlingford clan, occupying the position of the weird and ugly spinster (HMMMM) due to the fact that she is one of only two people in the family (we'll get to that in a moment) with brown hair. No, I'm not mistaken, this whole mutual admiration circle is blonde, thanks to two great things: choosing blonde partners outside the family + inbreeding. Because it's so cool and okay, yaay!

The apple of the eye of the whole family is Alice, a beautiful, charming young lady, whose brown hair is probably not such a big deal, who mourned for a long time after her first fiancé died in tragic circumstances, but has already recovered from this ""tragedy"" and is about to marry her new admirer (does it sound like Olivia Stirling? It does, but unfortunately for us, the similarities will end soon, because it will only get worse). Alice's chosen one is her 22-year-old cousin Billy, the son of the main patriarch of the family. Oh, did I mention that Alice is also 34? And did she set her sights on Billy as her future husband when he was still a teenager? No? So I'm saying it now.

At the beginning of the book, John Smith comes to the town of Byron, whom everyone says is a troublemaker, a rable-rouser, and a killer (Barney Snaith, are you with us, HMMMM??). It turns out that he has purchased a valley on the border of Byron, which, conveniently for the plot, happens to be close to Missy's house. Why did he buy this plot of land? Because he liked it and he always wanted to own the valley (Is Barney I-Always-Wanted-to-Own-Island Snaith with us???). Whatsoever, by doing this, he ruins his relations with all the residents of Byron, because it turns out that only members of that cursed clan live there.

The Cursed Clan is rich because of the bottle factory where they later sell water, supposedly the tastiest in the entire universe. There's just one problem with this factory, or rather its management - someone is buying up the shares, some mysterious investor arranging share after share and increasing the percentage of the shares he owns more and more. I WONDER WHO IT COULD BE? The plot of this factory is probably the only original thing in the whole story, except that because of it we have a scene of a meeting of villains like from a bad cartoon:

"We have to get the share papers from our aunts, they don't know what they are anyway, they'll sell them us for next to nothing and we'll be able to continue cheating them out of money."

"Ask them nicely, they'll give them to you for free, after all, women are stupid."

"Oh yes, women are stupid."

"Women are stupid."

"Hahaha."

"Hahaha."

...good Lord. And in the meantime, the main character is standing behind a fern and eavesdropping on the whole vile plan. Divinely.

So we have a screwed main character, we have a screwed love interest, the rest of the family is a caricature of a caricature (in The Blue Castle the clan, maybe hermetic, but sticks together, and here everyone is scratching their own turnip and that's ok, you can rub your hands at the thought of a few pennies gained by buying eggs below market price from an aunt who is starving, but the Hurlingfords don't trade with strangers; I would wring all their heads). We also have the character of Una, who allows us to move on to the next character trait of the main character borrowed from Montgomery - a love of books.

Valancy read nature books because her mother forbade her from reaching for anything else. Here, too, the mother imposes such a ban on Missy, but already at the beginning of the book she states that, after all, it doesn't matter to her, that her daughter is an adult and she sees that she's messing around with these romance novels, so let the girl have something for life. These romances (during the novel two descriptions of such books are quoted and boy oh boy, it was something between harlequins and trendy now new adult books) are taken care of by Una, who, attention: is a ghost. She is a freaking ghost. Which the reader learns about in the last three pages AND OH MY GOD HOW MUCH THIS DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. SHE SELLS BOOKS. WORKS IN A LENDING STORE. GIVES MISSY A DRESS. NOTARIALLY CERTIFIES THE TRANSFER OF THE SHARES. HOW. All these events take place, they are not Missy's hallucinations, because everyone else saw the gifted dress, the documents were passed, it's such a shitty plot twist. So senseless. Ughh.

Just to make sure there are enough similarities, the main character ""has"" a heart condition. And if the plot twist with Una was absolutely stupid, this plot, damn it, this plot - I have no words for it. So the whole thing looks like this: Missy at some point gets chest pains. John Smith sees one such attack, picks her up in his arms, brings her to her house - because she fainted beetween entries to her own and his property - he brings a doctor. In the meantime, Missy, who sees the man for the second time - falls in love with him. Madly. To be held by those arms, to die in those arms, to kiss those arms, she would very much like all of it at once.

The doctor comes, says he can't see anything, asks her to come back for a consultation in a week. The other one comes, he still doesn't see anything, says: You'll go to Sydney, my specialist friend is there, he'll do something. Okay, she's going in two weeks. The other other doctor examines her, writes something down, then, by surprise, nurse catches her and twists her spine. Without warning, just for funsies. It turns out that she had a pinched nerve, now everything should be ok. He says that he'll send the letter he wrote to the doctor from Byron and that Missy should show up in a week for another check-up. Suddenly the phone rings, everyone leaves, Missy is left alone in the office and is super sad. Because how can that be? She already thought she was dying, but she wasn't, she won't be like the heroine of the romance she read recently, who died young, but had loved before (in general, at the beginning of the book she would do anything just to not be sick, but never mind). Instead of keeping her hands to herself, she starts reading what the Sydney doctor wrote about her. She finds a letter from her family doctor and, wait, I won't let this quote go, the doctor to the doctor in his review of the patient writes: She leads a stagnant, deprived existence (vide her breast development).

YIKES, EXECUSE ME? In general, throughout the entire length of the book, descriptions of physicality, erotic scenes, mentioning caresses or molestation as "hehe, what he touched was his" - I was thinking that I will throw up every d-- time. Coming back: she reads the next documents and finds an opinion about another patient, a heart patient who has 6 months, well, a year left to live. And this stupid goose takes this paper and puts it in her purse! Why does she need it, you may ask? So Missy has a plan, a brilliantly clever one. She goes to John. Something between 4 and 9 miles, so quite a long way from the threshold of her house to the threshold of his house, he has quite a lot of land around there. But she goes. With a suitcase. She left her mother a note earlier: Mommy, don't worry, everything will be great, I'll be back in two days, kisses xoxo. And here the mother doesn't abuse her daughter like Mrs. Friderick abused Valancy, I can even say that she was kind of a pleasant character.

But that's not important! Missy goes. She comes. She sits down. She waits for John to come back from the field. John comes back and she says to him as a greeting: Will you marry me? Let me remind you: they've seen each other twice before. TWO. Once Missy didn't say anything and the second time she was unconscious. John says that he was already married, he's 50, now he wants to be alone for a while, in the middle of nowhere, have some peace. What does Missy do? SHE TELLS HIM THAT IN A YEAR SHE'LL DIE, SHE LOVES HIM, SHE WANTS TO LIVE WITH HIM IN THE VALLEY, HER VALLEY, SHE WILL TEACH HIM HOW TO LOVE AGAIN. He says that she looks quite healthy, he doesn't want anything from her, he takes her home. What does Missy say to that? She goes to him the next morning and repeats the play. And he agrees. And they have sex. A lot of sex. Because Missy turns out to be some kind of goddess, despite obviously also being a virgin. Holy ravioli.

SO THEY GET MARRIED. And John says a few times how he's starting to trust our Missy, because women are liars, but she, she is in a different league. Meanwhile, after each of such a remark, she thinks that if she waits a year to reveal the truth, nothing will happen. That maybe they'll have children by then. Because she wants children. And John would actually make a good father.

The carousel of stupidity is turning, but it's not slowing down, it's only speeding up, we're getting closer to the end, stay with me. So the mysterious buyer of the shares turns out to be (!!!) John. And he, as it turns out, was also married to a Hurlingford woman in his first marriage. Only she was a bad woman, but he didn't kill her, she drowned herself, but the whole clan accused him of murdering her, so he decided that he would destroy them all later. Of course, now excluding the people Missy likes. Because he had such a trick with this factory that he now wants to have a 100% female board. So he's enlisting his mother-in-law and her three sisters, and they have to get four other people to make a full board. A board composed entirely of widows who sold at most a heifer to their cousins ​​at discounted prices. I love this business plan.

But wait, if John's first wife was also from this family… who was she? UNA. UNA FROM THE ROMANCE RENTAL. Una, who really wanted Missy and John to get together. Who gave her a dress for the wedding. And now, because the book ends with Missy and Una talking, when Una finally realizes that she's been talking to a ghost all this time, Una now just wants to fly to heaven and chill out. BUT! She has one last warning for Missy.

“Don’t ever tell him, Missy. Let him believe his love and care cured you.” Una chuckled gleefully. “He’s a darling man, darling, but he has a terrible temper! It’s not in your nature to provoke it, but whatever you do, don’t tempt fate by telling him about your heart trouble. No man likes to be the dupe of a woman, and he’s already had a fair taste of that. So mark what I say – don’t ever, ever tell him.”

“You’re leaving,” said Missy desolately.

“With knobs on I’m leaving, darling! I’ve done what I was sent to do, and now I’m going to take a well-deserved rest on the softest, fattest, pinkest, champagniest cloud I can find.”

“I can’t do it without you, Una!”

“Nonsense, darling, of course you can. Just be good, and especially be good in bed, and you can’t go wrong. That is, as long as you heed my warning – don’t ever tell him the truth!”

I am-- I am speechless. THIS DAMN PARODY OF A BOOK--

[shadowfalllen]

Locked & Loaded - out now on ao3

Pairing: Shadowheart x f!Tav Word count: 2,9k words

Summary: Tav's reckless driving earns her a stop from Officer Shadowheart. But instead of just a ticket, she gets a very thorough… inspection.

In a nutshell this is a roleplay fantasy between Shadowheart and Tav in a modern AU setting.

An excerpt:

A rush of adrenaline flooded through Tav’s veins as she sped through the quiet countryside roads in her old Toyota Corolla. The engine of her car revved as she put the pedal to the metal, while music blasted at full volume, almost drowning out the roar of the engine.

Fields and forests blew by in a blur; just a dust trail was left behind, and startled birds took flight as she sped down the empty roads.

Tav was so entranced by the speed that she didn’t notice a motorcycle taking after her. Soon, she saw red and blue lights flashing in her rearview mirror, signaling her to stop.

“You have gotta be kidding me…” she mumbled, pulling to the side of the road and turning off the car.

It was just her luck that there were police officers lurking around on this abandoned stretch of road.

She looked nervously from her side mirror as the officer parked her motorcycle behind the car. The officer’s leather-clad legs straddled the bike as she killed the engine of her black, sleek-looking sports bike. Then she slowly dismounted, a long, slender leg moving sensually over the body of the bike.

Tav’s gaze wandered from the officer’s combat boots to the tight leather pants. She was wearing a black leather jacket and black leather gloves as well. A pair of handcuffs and a baton were attached to her leather belt.

The officer stood to her full height and then removed her helmet in one smooth motion, shaking her head and making her meticulously braided ponytail sway. Her hair was dark in color, almost black. Tav couldn’t see her eyes as they were hidden behind a pair of aviators.

“Good grief, does she have to be hot too?” Tav grumbled.

She kept her hands on the steering wheel and watched from the mirror as the officer walked closer, slipping off her gloves slowly, revealing long fingers and neatly trimmed fingernails.

Tav gulped hard as the officer reached her car, peered in, and pointed down, commanding Tav to roll down the window. Tav obeyed, trying to give an innocent smile and swiping her unruly blonde hair behind her ear.

The officer leaned into the window, placing one hand on the roof while the other rested on her hip, close to the handcuffs. Tav’s eyes wandered and landed between the officer’s legs—her leather pants were tight around a slight bulge. She quickly looked up, the officer’s expression hidden behind the reflective aviators.

A scent of leather and something fresh, like mint, wafted from the officer as she leaned in even closer.

Tav swallowed hard, trying to appear calm. “G-good day, officer…?”

“Shadowheart Hallowleaf,” a sensual female voice answered. “You may call me Officer Hallowleaf.”

“You were going a little fast there, sweetheart. In a hurry?” Shadowheart stated, her tone slow and amused.

“Oh, was I?” Tav forced out a cheery laugh.

“Uh-huh. License and registration.” Shadowheart held out her hand, waiting.

“S-sure,” Tav said and scrambled to reach the glove compartment where she kept her car registration papers and wallet.

She felt her breasts squish against the material of her dress as she reached, suddenly acutely aware of how revealing her neckline was and how the hem of her dress was hiking up. She quickly grabbed the items and pulled back, blushing profusely. She almost dropped them but somehow managed to catch them at the last moment.

When she turned back to Shadowheart, she found the officer staring at her intensely, her gaze roaming over every inch of exposed skin, Tav’s tight clothing, and finally, Tav’s mouth, making her nervously lick her lips. One perfectly manicured eyebrow was slightly raised, a lopsided smirk pulling at the officer’s lips.

“Ah… um, here they are.”

“That’s a good girl. You stay put, and I’ll go check if everything is in order,” Shadowheart’s voice was low and sensual.

Read the rest on ao3 ❤️

[projectcookiekingdom]

House of Cards AU: Snake Fruit Doodles

Featuring: Longan Dragon, Affogato, and Espresso because I made these four "family" LMAO

Close Up Versions!

The Ivory Dragon Family:

Longan Dragon is the parent who used to be a heartless mafia boss, but lo and behold, they decided to quit one day and adopt these three goobers. Tsundere no. 1 because ew, affections. (They actually love being the parent, but they can't help but sometimes regress back to the old mafia days)

Snake Fruit is the older sibling by two years and would never admit that they love their family. Tsundere no. 2 because also, ew, showing affections. (Most likely to throw hands at people insulting their family because only they can insult them!)

Affogato and Espresso are twins. Both don't know who's older, and they don't care. Espresso is Tsundere no. 3 because, eugh, affection. Meanwhile, Affogato is the Kuudere because he's traumatized and has amnesia. (Do not mess with the twins or else... well, they're scary when they're angry)

The family dynamic for these four is so random and very OOC, so please don't attack me with Canon Lore. I'm just having fun with these goobers for my AU (*T^T)

Anyways! Snake Fruit likes anything related to the Dragon Clan because they think they’re cool. Meanwhile, the twins don't have any strong opinions on them.

Snake Fruit is also the last one to get adopted since they had an argument with Longan Dragon that one time (it's a joint mission between the House of Cards and their new allies, the Dragon Clan. Longan Dragon was forced to chaperone the Jokers because "they're not busy." Needless to say, Longan only agreed on the condition that they get to bring Affogato with them for an afternoon tea that a certain tree forced them to attend to. Why? Probably hoping to sneak some poison in the tea.)

They reconciled at one point, so all's well that ends well. (Let's say thank you to Snapdragon and Pond Dino's misadventures)

Snake Fruit gets a Dragon Gem as a proof that, yes, they're accepted to the Dragon Clan. (The twins have their own Dragon Gems, too.)

Their overall sibling relationship in summary: Endless bullying out of affection... and fighting over who gets to be Longan's favorite child.

Espresso doesn't care. He just wants to mess with Snake Fruit.

Snake Fruit, on the other hand, just wants to be spoiled rotten. They love affection, and they're being a tsundere about it.

Unfortunately, Affogato is the favorite because what do you mean he can eat and make poison? Do you know how valuable that is?

Longan Dragon's relationship status with the trio in a nutshell: If you need anything, just bring out the weapons in the basement, and then we'll plan our course of action. Yes, we need Affogato's poison. Snake Fruit, don't get too cocky but yes, use your dragon form to show them who's boss. Espresso, just do your thing and be the menace to society. And no, Millennial Tree, this is a family bonding, not an orchestrated assassination plan.